Unlock-down-ing our sense of adventure - and why it's okay for it to take as long as it takes

‘If I don’t text by 8am, these are the coordinates of where I am’, I text to my friend as I start my solo wild camp

‘If you jump far enough out, we’ll avoid the rocks and hit the soft sand’ I say before we leap into the water

‘Asante, kaka’, I say as I board the bus alone in Tanzania, meeting the surprised and smiling eyes of people

‘I’m committing to this business for at least five years’ I say to myself and everyone around me

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I travelled in the Peak District last week, sleeping in my little car camper with my rescue dog, Nya. I’d built the sleeping platform two months before, with the help of a friend but it had taken me until now to try it out.

It was always a bit too cold, or I was too busy, I said. But really, I just didn’t feel like it. This thing that I’d been so excited about, the version one of the campervan adventure dream, was sitting outside the house and I didn’t feel any incentive to head out in it.

As I lay in the camper bed last week, looking out the window at Mam Tor, and feeling completely in love with my mini-adventure, I reflected on the process that is unlocking or unlock(down)ing my adventure mojo. Like so many of us, I’ve felt that the woman who said all of those words above, and many more, was someone else.

The woman who skipped and ran and jumped (often with fear, but doing it anyway) was instead plodding and being safe and routine and small.

I felt a sadness and a longing for that woman, even though I knew that she could and would come back. There felt such a disjuncture between me and her.

While this hasn’t been the case for everyone, we’re learning anecdotally and from research that this is a common experience at this time.

Through necessity, our worlds became smaller and quieter, more routine and, fundamentally, far more risk-averse.  Novelty is an essential need for humans, and this was far less readily available.

Of course I was plodding. I had started plodding in lockdown 1, and it had become really ingrained in lockdown 3, especially as impact of the isolation of living alone in this context really took hold. While I was loving my work and building my business, I also protected myself. I turned outwards to friends and family, and also turned inwards into myself . While there were undoubtedly benefits to slowing down, I lost so many of the experiences that make my stomachs flip in excitement.

(I should say at this point that I am enormously aware of my privilege in working from home and that I was not on the front line during this pandemic.)

As the world opens up, we know there is a period of transition, we know there has been collective and individual trauma and this takes time to heal.

Really feeling into this, being fully compassionate towards myself and my experience, compassionate to our experiences, acknowledging and allowing the fact that I haven’t been feeling the excited yearn towards adventure, has been key to allowing exactly that feeling back in.

How did I start to build my adventure mojo again?

I made commitments to myself that I would find that river to swim in tomorrow when walking in the Peaks. And I did

I told myself it was okay to sleep in the safe, quiet country pub car park, where they welcome campervans, as an entry point before parking in the layby with the glorious view

I practiced daily with my breath, not only to down-regulate (calm) but also to up-regulate (enliven)

I built fires and let their flames magic their energy into my being

I spent time outdoors with the stars and the full moon

I invited friends on mini-adventures, so I had to go and so we could co-regulate

I recognized that adventures come in many different forms

I worked with my phenomenal coach and counsellor

I remembered that there is no comparison needed, with either others or with pre-pandemic Rowena

There’s some way to go, I feel. There’s always some way to go, from wherever we are.

There is more wilderness to be embraced, in both my internal and external landscapes.

My arms, that have largely been protectively closed this past 18 months, are unfurling, opening to invite in adventure, opportunities, to lead more boldly, to connect even more fully, to lean forwards and skip and dance again. I do this knowing that I’ll build in pause, restoration, and comfort, that balance is the way forwards.

I’m enjoying starting to feel that little flip in my stomach again, that one of excitement and anticipation, with some fear blended in. It feels familiar and new at the same time. It’s so very welcome.

I wonder if this chimes with your experiences? How has your relationship with adventure changed? Where do you want to go from here?