Feeling the Seasons

There are some battles you just have to negotiate on. With a growing son we see him find his own voice and identity more and more each day. In the early years, going outside in all seasons was just a something-we-did-each-day kind of thing. As he’s getting older though I’m starting to understand that these seasons play more of a part in our day-to-day than I gave them credit for. Especially when it comes to our son feeling into his body.


Feeling the weather in all seasons is a process of decision making, patience and understanding.
 

From freezing fog to torrential downpours, grey days to bursts of warm winter sunshine; there’s a whole lot of decision making a child needs to go through when they’re playing outside. And here in the UK, the unpredictable weather means we're having to think a little more about where we choose to move our bodies, for how long and what we wear. We take the ease of summer adventures for granted when we're in the midst of yet another rain shower, having to put on all the waterproof gear yet again. So how do we support our young people outdoors as we hand over the reins of decision making in the winter? 

 
Even grown ups get it wrong

Firstly we're all human, that goes without saying but still we often get it wrong even as adults. For example, I was happily chopping wood for the fire just this weekend; finding my flow, my body warm from the work. I looked up to see the horizon was disappearing in a foggy dark cloud, the rods of rain visible even from afar. I told myself I must get to the shed to get my coat before the rain began. But, my body was happy and my brain was in a loop of positive feedback seeing the growing stack of kindling piling up beside me. Before I knew it I was trapped under our woodland shelter as the rain began pouring down around me. My cheeks were warm and rosy red from working hard but my body was beginning to feel the temperature dropping quickly. Those frontal lobes of my brain, responsible for decision making, knew that I needed to stop what I was doing and make the move to the shed. That day I didn’t do my best decision making, I carried on chopping and when inevitably I needed to go inside, I was greeted with a beautiful Yorkshire deluge, wet, windy and cold. 

A child's frontal lobes don't fully develop until after puberty, so it goes to say that big decisions; especially where playing outside is concerned, takes some real work in those middle-childhood years of 6-12. When you watch a child in the throes of their play, the younger the child, the less they’ll want to take a short break to attend to their own bodily needs, and especially if a well meaning parent has suggested it. For children 12+ years the task shifts, their understanding of the world and their own body begins to knit together in a beautiful connection; forward planning and reasoning become a little more refined. Their success rate for making good decisions is much higher. Experience of course being a main player here. 

Chilly fingers and wet toes

We’re in the transition between seasons here at the moment. Our bodies feel the tug of winter layers with some resistance after the wonderful freedom our bodies felt in the mild autumn. But the land asks it of us and if we’re not listening we get caught out with chilly fingers and wet toes, a sure fire way of putting the brakes on our adventures.

There are often big learning curves to experience when it comes to making good decisions. Our lives are dictated by the choices we make. If you think of all the decisions we as parents make on a daily basis no-wonder we’re more adept at it than our growing children. Our minds are constantly flowing from one thing to another, forward planning and making decisions about our days and beyond. But for a child, the decisions they need to make are so beautifully simple and innocent and us adults constantly underestimate their abilities to make good decisions. Our foresight to potential risks can be limiting to a growing child ready to flex their own decision making skills.

We all know the best way for our children to actually make good decisions is like most things, by actively practising and living the consequences both positive and negative. Our job as parents is not to chastise our children for the wrong decisions but to guide them through the outcomes offering support, encouragement ....and a shoulder to cry on if needed. Of course championing our children for the great decisions THEY made with grace and reverence. It’s impossible to make good decisions if we don’t have the opportunity to practise. Yikes, even as adults we don’t have a 100% success rate as I shared with you before, but we practise and we live the outcomes making changes on the fly where needed.

Feeling the edges of discomfort is something we don’t talk enough about when it comes to outdoor adventures for our youngsters. If we’re constantly in a state of comfort, how will we know what to do when our bodies are feeling the effects of the elements? It’s actually vitally important to tip toe into the edges of uncomfortable feelings for children. When bodies become chilly (or equally in the depths of summer when we’re hot) we need to know what that feels like and before we start making decisions about how to bring our bodies back into a happy state. It gives us a set of “rules” then we can use, for example;

I have cold fingers, my options are… 

1. Put gloves on 
2. Put a jacket on
3. Move my body
4. Hold something warm
5. Rub them together/blow on them

And when the child learns of these options it becomes incredibly empowering. It’s useful to work on learning the options rather than just telling them what they need to do. 


One day at a time

So coming back to our winter adventures and how we dress to survive the days outside. We’re practising making decisions one day at a time. That’s all we can do when the weather throws something different each day, the question to our children however is consistent,

"What is your body telling you?”

Those all important bodily cues are sometimes so muddled amongst the flow of playing. A little nudge, (or sometimes a big shove if it starts hammering it down with icy cold rain) to say, “it’s time to put some layers on” is an act of compassionate collaboration. It doesn’t take away the autonomy but it gives us a chance to check in and pre-empt the inevitable fall out. 

Like any parent knows, there are some battles you just have to negotiate on. From a child’s perspective, the winter layers can feel restrictive and claustrophobic after the freedom of shorts, t-shirts and trainers of summer and autumn. The fabrics can be scratchy or uncomfortable, especially those hard working wool layers, no wonder our children have a hard time putting them on each time they head outside. It’s our responsibility as an adult to become part of a feedback loop. Checking in, listening, feeling, hearing and reporting back. Find those alternatives to scratchy woollens, slip a cotton layer underneath if need be or ditch it in favour of something soft and comforting. The aim isn’t for perfection, the aim is to be comfortable long enough to experience the outdoors. 

If we want our children to experience the world and all its wild weather, they need opportunities to make a range of decisions in real life situations. This means we hear their requests and negotiate, finding solutions to suit their needs. Our job as parents is to provide those moments whilst all the while, doing quick risk assessment. Sometimes it still all goes to pot and the best plans, negotiations and forward planning don’t work out. In my experience, having a bag of spares and a mug of hot cocoa ready are the next best thing. Ticking off the deep comfort, basic human needs and a hefty dose of humility, we’ll figure it out eventually. Take stock, manage your own expectations and abandon ship if need be. There’s always tomorrow. 

Our role is to protect our children whilst also providing the opportunities to experience the world, and sometimes that will mean getting cold and wet.

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