Rites of passage and learning to let go

According to Wikipedia a rite of passage is a ritual that marks a change in a person's social status, which was exactly what I was realising last night as I attended my son's first formal as a gentle bouncer stationed on the edge of the light, to keep wayward souls in, while another layer of professional security behind me in the darkness seemed to not only do this, but keep wayward strangers out!

The concept of learning to let go, as a parent, first came to me from another parent of older children about 18 months ago. Since then I've been sort of waiting, hopefully prepared to handle myself well, while reviewing my strategies in life and in the outdoors - my hope being that in the outdoors' environment with it's lessons [so far consistently non dramatic] we'd be paid back for the investment.

The process is speeding up now though, and two weekends ago I was jolted out of my comfort zone when Dougal asked if he could float down the Clutha with friends from the outlet of Lake Wanaka. The trip is gorgeous and so was the early evening, and as the trip is basically obstacle free, I went into check list mode to help him prepare well - the ritual gave me some comfort!

Looking upstream up the mighty Clutha...


After I'd dropped him off and they'd launched their array of rafts and lilos I came home for a cuppa then drove down to the pull-out spot at Albert Town and waited and waited.

Did I mention how I waited!?? I had to learn the lesson of patience and tried some landscape photography, but the camera only really got used in earnest for this shot of them coming into view with the lower Dean's Bank in the background...


Contemplating the past I've realised the whole game now is more subtle, but that the rules are just same.

It was easy a few years back - just state the activity, ask if it was OK and then lead, letting them think they're leading, while we hover nearby...


Preparing for a short 100m trip along an historic mine shaft in the Dunstan Mountains, in Central Otago, but near home...


We're parked up waiting for cousin Michael while near Moonlight, on our way out from Ben Lomond Station behind Queenstown...


And all of a sudden last night I wished him well - now a young man embarking on "a rite of passage"


By 3 am I was throughly confused as we never agreed on what time, in regards to daylight saving changes, he'd be back from the after-party [held at a secret location], and he'd not shown up. The plan was hourly buses would drop them back at Mt Aspiring College - thankfully only 10 mins. walk from home. So I drove around the block a couple of times and never saw a soul except one parked/hovering police car in my street. So realising the futility of it all I turned in thankful for all the time we've spent together in the hills and otherwise - the mileage gave me trust.

The trust was not misplaced - minutes later he turned up, and said he'd missed the first bus, and that he enjoyed the "formal" formal, but found the after-party "interesting". Elaborating this morning he said it was his first time observing the affects of alcohol, and how it changed the behaviour of many people he knows quite well.

I guess wilderness values and concepts have taught us both to trust, detach and observe!

We're off on a Rees/Dart 4 day tramp next weekend. With any luck we'll do a side trip up, past the Dart Glacier, to Cascade Saddle.

More on Fiordland, and teenage years, wilderness, relaxation and life

The last week has been quiet as autumn kicks in. As well as yoga I am doing something different lately in the form of getting a series of reflexology treatments. I've not had any for a couple of years - my old friend Rika used to give them to me, but she's passed on. I react well to these and I've now found a new person Danielle who comes over from Queenstown regularly. The treatments help me sort of rebalance physically for starters, and this can be hard on the odd day. However the overall effect is profound, and well... right now, life is looking a bit different already, and the serendipitous keeps on as a welcome part of it all. And who knows where this fits in...

During the week I became aware that my son Dougal is being quite challenged by life lately. He's 16 and dealing with things as they come along, but its almost as if these insightful and intelligent young men are seeing the world as it really is for the first time. With all it's injustices, difficult relationships, pollution and stupidity, it's selfishness and pain, that it all gets overwhelming for them.

Dougal at the helm of Elwing back in July 2005, steering us to Breaksea Sound...


I reckon teenagers like Dougal don't want to go forward into adulthood, they want to go back to innocence, but can't. He told me this back at about the time we were heading to Breaksea and onto Dusky Sound.

This is probably New Zealand's wildest coast line, yet on this day Fiordland was calm beyond imaginings...


One of the reasons I've embraced these expedition voyages for Dougal and myself has not only been my love of wilderness and his of natural history, but the mentoring that occurs for him on such adventures.

One such man who has had a huge beneficial influence has been Elwing's skipper, our good friend Arthur...


It was much different for me at the age of 16: I wanted to be an adult as fast as..., perhaps because I perceived them as having more fun and especially freedom.

Maybe Dougal is of a wiser generation though - one that knows better how to mix creativity and relaxation, and if the moment happens along, with wilderness...


For many young people currently they apparently start with dark sad thoughts and get into a pattern of returning there. It's a pattern worth breaking for all of us!

Water, bush, mountains and wilderness - for me this simplicity holds many of the ingredients for a healthy life. Among them I find it's a lot easier to be grateful for all we have. On this occasion we're afloat in a beautiful calm evening well on our way. It's hard to think other than being grateful...


We made Breaksea in the dark and with the aid of spotlights and rocks this was what we awoke to...


To know that wilderness exists - this I think is a very important thing in life, and we must strive to bring this into consciousness [and to protect these environments]. For in time of turmoil it's a reference point, and if we can regularly go there physically or otherwise, it's a place of reflection and healing.

Arthur prepares to haul up the anchor amidst the exhaust of the diesel warming up - not only do we need these in life, but how interesting that water is the symbol of emotions...


Enthusiasm for life and some adventure also seems to be a good ingredients for a happy time. When times are tough giving our children, and those of others, unconditional love is all the more necessary.

It's easy to love when your son gets up, grabs some toast, and heads for his fishing rod...


One thing I've learnt the last week is to take more time out to relax - work at it! The reflexology has been indicating this quite strongly, and so to the tendency to worry about teenagers.

These seals have the right idea about relaxation, and it's not called Seal Island for nothing...


They also know a thing or two chilling out as they do, near the pantry...


Blog of the week: Headroom by Gregor Ronald

Thanks to Arthur, Helen, and Dougal for the inspiration for the above words, people and landscape photography.

Fiordland: a place where you can find pretty near anything lost