By Stephen Le Quesne
WE must not lose the joy and glue of community. The uniqueness of feeling settled, grounded and being connected cannot be replicated by a screen.
Last week, I had the privilege of being a part of the Creative Summer programme organised and run by Jersey Heritage.
As part of the summer-long event based at different Jersey Heritage sites, I was at La Hougue Bie, providing nature-based activities for families and children (of primary school age).
As part of the week, we offered activities that provided creative freedom, were child-led and allowed the children to play and create with nature in mind and to take whatever they created home with them. The normal focus of my business is more bushcraft and wilderness skills, based with a focus on themes such as fire creation and shelter. So to offer activities such as leaf printing, nature weaving and a “stick workshop” was a little different, allowing families to sit together, chat and play outdoors.
One of the things I cherish the most about my work is that I regularly see the same families, the same children, whether this be every few months, once a year or every few weeks. It is something I am incredibly grateful for and is the core of working with families outdoors therapeutically. I am grateful for their trust in me, and the more I get to know the children, the more I can extend their outdoor experiences, ask more challenging questions and provide activities that extend their knowledge and skillset.
What I also noticed during the week is that there was not one single phone in sight, no phones were being used to scroll, check emails or browse social media, it was a phone-free zone, accomplished entirely by accident, and I would say that everyone who attended were relaxed and present within the environment that we had created.
The week-long event, which we have called Wild Play Days, has been running for almost ten years now and it makes me feel a part of something – a small jigsaw piece in a larger puzzle. For me, that is one of the greatest joys that we can have. I feel like I am helping families, providing warmth and joy and gently encouraging children to embrace and explore the natural world around them.
A natural growth element from this is that at the end of June, I started a qualification in Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Approaches. Hopefully, in 18-months’ time or so, I will become a qualified therapeutic practitioner (not a therapist) and I will be able to offer therapeutic programmes and interventions that are impact assessed and have nature and wilderness skills at their core.
So far, the course has involved a week of lectures and practical elements within Lyme Park, Cheshire. Before the course started, I did not know anyone, and I was going in as a stranger to all, just like everyone else. But once we had finished our first full week (we have another to complete), we had all changed within ourselves.
We had continuity with the locations, the structure and timings and we also had an outdoor space that was dependable, nurturing and isolated enough so that each attendee could work on themselves.
Nature as a therapeutic partner does not judge, it does not apply pressure or expectations and, when healing, is what you need it to be. It amazes me that we do not treat nature seriously enough when it comes to our health, but I suppose we are at the beginning of this journey.
Both the Wild Play Days events and the therapeutic course have reminded me what it means to feel connected, settled and grounded within an environment, and how important these things are to be able to feel content and to not rush to social media to voice opinions about X, Y or Z.
The internet, our phones and social media have fundamentally changed how we think and how we communicate with each other. We are encouraged to judge quickly, to overload on information and look for the bad as well as focus on the details that suit our beliefs. It is not healthy, and democracy is creaking under the pressure.
To combat this and to provide something different, I am currently searching for a permanent outdoor location where I can base my outdoor practice. A place to teach, to learn, to think, to ponder and to connect. A woodland space that provides stability, security, a sense of belonging and a renewed sense of connection for all.
We cannot change the world by ourselves, but what we can do is act positively and kindly for the benefit of ourselves and others.
By doing this, we may find a sense of belonging and hopefully help to soothe the ever-growing conflicts around us.
Stephen Le Quesne is a naturalist and outdoor learning instructor.
