Flow in the Wild

Wow.

We're backed up on adventures lately that we still haven't had time to share.

Just back from speaking at a psychedelic conference at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver with folks like Dennis McKenna, Wade Davis, Paul Stamets, and Bruce Damer (the NASA astrobiologist and inventor of the leading new theory of life's origins).

Fun conversations with old friends, colleagues and mentors and a heartening conversation with folks deeply dedicated to helping set things right. Indigenous elders from the rainforest and the arctic forests. Scientists. Researchers. Farmers. Craftspeople and Community Builders. Homegrown Humans in word and deed.

Also got to share content from my new book which I'm in the push to submit the proposal to my editors by the end of year. Super fun to test drive some of the material and see how it lands for folks. But basically it's an anthropologist from space's explanation of consciousness, evolution and humanity on this little blue marble. A way to anchor on Hope in the midst of the hopeless. Stay tuned for more to come. It's shaping up to be a really fun tale to tell.

But right before that, we just wrapped another fantastic training adventure in the canyons of Utah that I wanted to share some highlights and reflections from.

Anytime we set aside the chatter and noise and go deep into the wilds, we return with gifts (earned) and if we're lucky, some Grace (never earned, but always welcome).

And this year was no different as we tromped into the San Rafael Swell and the Little Grand Canyon of eastern Utah. First off, it was cold, and a big ass snowstorm came ripping through the day we were heading in. Nighttimes were legit mid 20's F and learning to sleep warm and dry was an exercise in practical self management.

But getting out of our bags in the early morning light, dusting off ice, and waiting for the sun to come up, was a ritual that we realized we could endure (mugs of rich mocha java didn't hurt). And by the time afternoon hiking was on the cards, with maps and compasses and navigation challenges, the warm sun burned away any of the memory of Linus-shivering-in-the-pumpkin-patch.

It was positively Zen to realize "ah, all of those 3 am sufferfests were just phenomena, coming, going, impermanent, and here I am (in the full sunshine later in the day) fed, hydrated, connected, engaged, so what was all that "suffering" about?"

Some folks go to the trouble of ice baths and various contrivances to feel that kind of contrast, or you can just go out and engage nature on its own terms.

Something else happened out there too. We were given the challenge and the privilege of actually relying on each other. One group had a fair whack of folks under the 120 lb mark, which saddled each of those featherweights with a proportionally higher load than their Clydesdale companions.

For the group to progress on some of the harder days with big elevation or mileage, we had to share the load. Literally. And that's on top of carrying extra water on some days to ensure we had enough at a high and dry camp. But folks gave and received with grace and generosity. Not a bitch or moan to be heard.

Another group, tackling a particularly challenging day, had to climb out of one canyon, navigate across open mesa to nail a single entry point to a second canyon, and then get everyone safely down, passing packs, managing steep staircase rocks and finding their slickrock camp before nightfall.

Which they did, fantastically well. Until 400m before camp, well past the actual crux of the day, when one strong hiker had an accidental slip of a loose boulder and pranged their ankle badly enough they couldn't bear any weight.

A helicopter couldn’t have landed in that narrow canyon, so the next morning, they decided as a team to self-evacuate, with a combination of splints, piggy backs, raft floats and all other means. Curt said that the worst punishment for SEAL training was to carry men for 100m. This team did it for 9 miles across boulders and uneven terrain. "There's no way team guys would've done this" he reflected afterwards.

When we all got together at the end, you could see the earned valor, the pride in having been initiated into something bigger than themselves. To have found each other, tested, and dug deep, not because "I" felt like it, but because "we" needed it. That's a rite of passage you can't make up. It only comes from the requirement of the moment.

We also did some rad thinking, growing and learning. Reading Plato's allegory of the Cave and actually having class in a cave! (see below). Studying the neuroscience and psychology of getting lost in the wild. Reading National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize winning poems and short stories particularly geared to the moment. Gathering around a fire with ancient rock art on the walls behind us, singing songs, reciting poems, speaking truth in council.

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And for anyone wondering about the "Flow Genome" part of our organization and how to get more of it in your life. This is how. This is real Flow training. Not contrived huff and bluster masquerading as transformation.

That shit might play on Instagram. It doesn't hold up one minute in real terrain. It's time we all started to be able to tell the difference.

Put yourself in a Rich Environment like the backcountry, engage your entire physical self in Deep Embodiment, and ride the razor's edge of High Consequence so you know you're alive and can learn from direct feedback.

NOLS founder and legendary mountaineer Paul Petzoldt once said "in the mountains, feedback is instant!" And those learning laps tighten our frame and drive us into the Deep Now. The only place Flow ever happens.

By doing the hard things well. By thinking ahead, and minimizing risk across multiple domains all at once. By giving and receiving the best that's in us (and then some).

So while you wont find us slinging powerpoint slides in a hotel conference room, you will find us camped on a slickrock ledge, with two massive sandstone sentinels on either side of us. The crescent moon setting to the west, as the Big Dipper and Orion duke it out for prominence in the night sky. Reaping the fierce grace and quiet pride that comes from doing the hard thing, from doing the right thing, from dropping into the Deep Now, together, and for always.

If that sounds like a calling, it is.

The only question is will you heed yours when it comes?

We've got a full roster of guide candidates in our guide certification training who just passed their canyons selection process. Now they’re onto the rest of their year long adventure in becoming rock-solid reliable leaders of leaders.

We will be accepting another cohort in the spring (if interested you can learn more and apply here).

And we’ll also be running a backcountry ski adventure in the mountains near Vail late March (for skiers and snowboarders as well as snowshoers and lovers of nature). Hit reply to this email if you’d like to be on the waitlist.

There's plenty more to come, as we get increasingly clear on what folks are yearning for, and what's ours to do, so stay tuned, and ask yourself

"Do I have what it takes to heed the call, and will I find the courage to step up when that moment finally comes?"

#dontdiewondering

J

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