Kid #2 (but clearly speaking for all 4): But mum, why do we have to go up the mountain?
Mum: So what we can do down the mountain.
Kid: But why do we have to go down the mountain?
Mum: So that we can go up a mountain
...
I've done it again. I forced my children off their phones and into nature. We walk up a hill, chasing goats. Down a hill while being stunk by plants. We visited a cave (Kid # 1: We can't go there, look at the gate. Mum opens gate).
But the hardest part was the mountain. 1420 meters of rock, and (burned) trees. Fortunate for all , we were already at 890m. Kinda half-way up. This did not gain me browny points with the kids.
Walking up 530 meters, even if most of it wasn't that tremendously steep, takes mental effort. Especially if the whole endeavor looks pointless. There is nothing to see or do once you reach the peak. Only to take in the view, and begin the ascent. It is also nothing to brag about to friends - at least not for the kids. They've spent their Saturday being stung by plants, seeing a cave that was locked, getting partly sunburned (should have listen to me), chasing goats, and driving back in a car that smelled like vomit and sweaty feet.
Why do something that looks at pointless as what we did: Walk in a circle. Uphill.
It is a forcing function. I'm forcing myself to disconnect fully. I'm forcing us to spent time together. I'm forcing them to test out how much they can do. I'm forcing myself to be a leader, putting safety above achievement. There is so much of our daily living that is just a pure repetition of the previous day. Pushed to go on for another 24 hours. Sleep, work, eat. Rinse and repeat. Where are the breaks? And don't you dare say school holidays are break. There are an utter joke to (working) parents.
What I'm talking about are true breaks of the mind. Being jolted out of your day-to-day trek, out of everything that you know. And so I have this routine to drag my kids out of the city, up and down mountains. The irony of developing a routine to break another routine is not fully lost on me.
