Full Circle: A Return to the Peaceful Desert (page 2)

For the next month I sat in the wintery Wasatch mountains wondering when I would have an epiphany. After a few weeks I didn't have any clearer sense of what my next step would be. The epiphany that I was sure would come was nowhere to be found. It was during that time that I reconnected with Shayne and Sheri Gallagher from WinGate/Expanse.

I have known Sheri for most of my life. She would babysit me and my brothers when we were little, and she is very present in many of my childhood memories. Whether it was taking us to the water park or letting us run wild on Boulder Mountain, she was (and continues to be) very close with my family. Sheri is one of the original wilderness field staff, and worked for my dad in some of the first wilderness programs. As such, she continues to be one of the most experienced, gifted and authentic teachers and leaders in the wilderness therapy industry. Reconnecting with her felt easy and familiar after not seeing her or Shayne for a number of years. The three of us spoke on the phone for a little over an hour and they invited me to visit their program. I accepted, more to spend time with the Gallagher's than to really consider another program.

So, here we are…I am in the vehicle with Shayne, driving into the Grand Staircase to visit a couple of groups. To be honest, I didn't think I would see anything new or different. Afterall, I have been around these groups most of my life. So, I sat back and just enjoyed the desert air and scenery. No sooner had I convinced myself that this was going to be a typical cookie-cutter group visit, did I start to hear the whispers and feel the pull of the desert.

Immediately I Notice Something Different

We arrive at the first group and park amidst the sand and juniper trees and gather our things as we prepare to go to the group. Shayne slings his handmade buckskin quiver around his shoulder, complete with long tamarisk arrows, with hawk feather fletching. We walk the short distance up the hill toward the group. They are camped at the base of these beautiful white sandstone mesas. Five adolescent boys are sitting in the sand cooking, eating, and talking. Immediately I notice something different about this group.

Although a cold and stiff breeze blew through camp, I didn't hear any complaining. I couldn't remember the last time I was in a group of adolescent boys and not heard complaining, and wonder if this is first time that I've experienced such an anomaly. I notice that none of the boys had their shoes on. They were in their heavy winter socks, feet nestled in the sand…they were connecting with the earth; and they were grounded. They spoke openly about their journeys; where they had been prior to coming to WinGate/Expanse, and where they were now that they were here.

The boys were eager to share, and were excited to talk about their paths of self-discovery and growth; none of which was prompted by staff. Absent any friction or defiance these adolescent boys took ownership of their journey. Soon, they started to ask Shayne about his quiver and arrows. Shayne explained how he had made them from materials found in the desert, and passed his gear around to the boys. They held the arrows, quiver, and other primitive (hand-made) tools, admiring the craftsmanship and detail. Shayne then asked them if they wanted to learn how to throw these long arrows with an atlatl (a primitive spear-throwing lever).

No One Was Forcing the Program on These Boys

Excited, the boys stood up and gathered around as Shayne went through the mechanics and motions of throwing these spears. Not only did he show them how to do it, he explained where he had gathered the raw materials, and taught the boys how they too could make their own atlatls. I sat in the sand, on the periphery, amazed at what I was seeing. I was transported back to my youth. To a time when the kids in the wilderness were invited to participate, where they were seen, understood and not forced into any sort of behavior or change. The boys participate because they wanted to. There was no checklist, no expectation, and no consequence or punishment if they did not. No one was forcing the program on these boys. Furthermore, here was the founder of the program, getting down on the ground with them, seeing them, encouraging and inviting them to be a part of their own process. He knew each of them, and was in tune with their therapeutic process.

I had never experienced anything like this in the past fifteen years. Shayne and the staff acted as guides, as a support system. The boys did the work, because they found their own inner motivation inside. They accepted the wilderness, and embraced it. They accepted the challenge. They didn't give up when they couldn't, at first, throw the spears. They tried and tried, again and again.

I found that I was silent, I had no words. In all of my years of experience visiting hundreds of groups in the desert, I hadn't seen anything like this. In those moments I saw, felt, and experienced something new. That experience was not an anomaly. I found the same level of engagement, awareness, and investment when we went to the adolescent girl's group. Shayne knew their names, what they were working on, and where they were in their processes. The girls were excited to show off the flutes they had made. Shayne sat down next to them in the sand, and helped them troubleshoot and rework some of the flutes that weren't working. Again, I was silent.

Students are the Agents and Authors of Change

As we left the field that afternoon, I told Shayne that being at Expanse felt like coming home. The Expanse environment reminded me of all the times I was a kid in the desert, all the joy I felt, and how meaningful those experiences were, and still are in my life. I asked him why the groups were so peaceful, and why they were so motivated when staff weren't standing over them getting them to "check boxes." All of my questions were answered the same way. At Expanse it is about seeing the students, meeting them where they are, and inviting them to change or participate in their therapy. It is not the staff or program, but the students who are the agents and authors of change.

The Expanse difference is simple, yet profound. The focus is on relationships and individuals. There are no sticks, and no carrots. There are, however, invitations. Absent power struggles or ego, the staff create a safe, supportive and caring space where the students get to be themselves and grow in the ways that they choose. Never forced into a box, or made to fit in the program, the students at Expanse are offered the same priceless gifts that I received from the desert as a child. They are invited to grow, to explore, to embrace a sense of awe and wonder. They are invited to experience adventure and new things. Just as I experienced a sense of homecoming at Expanse, the students experience the invitation to come home to their true and best selves. It was here, in the Grand Staircase on a cold February afternoon that I found the missing piece, and came home.