Camping: A Metaphor for Life
photo credit: todd trapani/unsplash (not our tent…)
My husband, Chris, and I initially got together in early 2014 and reveled in getting to know each other and in establishing our collective interests and pursuits. Chris has camped since childhood: slept in tents, hammocks, under the stars; cooked “traditional” camping food over fires; explored the wilderness on foot; showered rarely, if ever. There were lots of fun (and a few not-so-fun) times, and he loves the simplicity of this type of camping. I, on the other hand, had previously camped twice in my life, not counting the few times I and my childhood friends made tents out of sheets and blankets over tree branches in the backyard before coming inside to sleep in beds. My first real camping experience was a few nights in Yosemite National Park at age 10 with my family of camping novices and some seasoned camper friends; the second time, at age 23, was on a small island in a tiny tent overcrowded with three people in an hours-long downpour. Chris was eager to show me camping and I was leery of another go at living uncomfortably in a tent in the wilderness.
Over the past nine years, our collective camping life has evolved. We started with the experience and equipment that Chris had amassed and adapted it as needed. Initially, I insisted upon a better mattress for increased sleeping comfort, as well as an expansion of what was considered appropriate camping food (did you know you can grill polenta on the fire grate?); and a bit later the portable potty was incorporated, a must for my middle-of-the-night needs. Chris was eager to have me along and comfortable, and also apprehensive about elevating his camping vibe; I worried about my comfort desires detracting from his usual experience and preferences. We worked together to test things out, suspend judgment, speak our truths kindly, listen openly, give and receive gratitude, and meet each other where we were whenever possible. There were definitely some tense moments as well as physical and emotional discomfort for each of us; however, we stayed on the wilderness path together and have developed a pretty good groove as partners.
photo credit: lance anderson/unsplash (not our camper…)
Last November, we bought a pull-behind camper–the price and model were the right fit for the next leg of our partnered camping adventures. Winter in Wisconsin is not ideal for any type of camping (even with a heater!), so we stored our camper and set about planning for an inaugural trip in the Spring, where we would get familiar with its layout and systems, apply what we already knew about ourselves and each other, and configure things as much as possible for our collective comfort.
If you ask either of us, we would each say that we have given and taken and that we are pleased with the current outcome that gives each of us enough of what we need and want. There are certainly times that Chris would prefer his back-to-basics approach, and he does that on his own or with friends that also better appreciate what I consider “roughing it”; and there are times I want the ability to be completely out of nature, which is when we arrange for a cabin rental with full plumbing. We have each learned a lot about ourselves and each other and what ultimately matters most. By staying open, setting and respecting boundaries, being flexible, understanding the others’ viewpoint, and compromising when helpful, we have built a camping–and broader–lifestyle that we truly enjoy. Maybe our approach to camping can help you navigate a situation or relationship in your life–give it a try, see what you learn, and discover how much peace and joy you can achieve by focusing on the priorities and adapting along the way.
