In the forest, your nose becomes a dust vacuum. — Photo by Trevor Brown on Unsplash

8 Life Lessons From Being Stuck in a Forest for 6 Days

Gabriel Sachs
Jul 22, 2017 · 9 min read

“Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men [and women].”― Seneca

The past six days mark one of the most rigorous, trying experiences I’ve ever been through. They also mark one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had the privilege to go through.

When stuck in the middle of the forest with the same people for six consecutive days with ‘managerial’ responsibility — of which you were informed two days before — you learn a lot about people, leadership, and especially yourself.

I learned that people impact me much more than I’d previously thought. I learned how a bad mood as a result of an actual disaster can just as easily be the result of sleep deprivation and uncomfortable temperatures. These revelations about myself are extremely helpful and will reap practical benefits.

I also learned some really important lessons about leadership, and life a whole.

Here are some of the most prominent lessons I’ve learned from my experiences, and mostly my mistakes, at the camp:

1. Unlike what you might think, other people are often just as scared and clueless as you are.

You’re given a management job with a shady description for which you have little to zero experience. As if this weren’t enough, you’re informed of this only two days before, with hardly any time to prepare.

Constantly throughout the camp, I found myself set aback by the question of ‘what am I supposed to do?’ to which the answer was often ‘I don’t know.’

At first, I felt alone in my cluelessness. Subtle feelings of fear, helplessness, and shame emerged in the wake of this isolation.

It was only after three days at 3 a.m., when we had night guard in pairs, and I had my first real conversation with someone in the camp, when I realized I wasn’t alone in my fear. She said the exact same words that were in my head: ‘More often than not, I have no clue.”

“People will choose unhappiness over uncertainty.”― Timothy Ferriss, The 4-Hour Workweek

Studies show that people prefer to definitely get an electric shock now than maybe be shocked later. Uncertainty is the confidence killer. It paralyzes, it hinders, and it halts progress.

What we often forget in life is that, when trying something new or productive, people around us are often just as uncertain as we are, and are therefore just as scared, if not more.

Knowing this can be extremely liberating. It can help you to make quicker judgement calls, forgive yourself for making mistakes, and be humble enough to ask more questions; which leads me to the next lesson.

2. Ask questions.

More often than not, you won’t be the only one in need of an answer. Asking questions is one of the most important skills a person can have, no matter what field they work in or what position they hold.

But it’s not enough to just believe in questions, you have to believe in the reason too.

In The Confidence Conundrum, Mark Manson talks about confidence not as being sure of success, but rather as being okay with failure. Confidence isn’t knowing you’re going to get it right all the time — that’s just narcissism; rather, to be confident is to know you won’t always get it right, and that’s okay.

It’s okay to not know the answer. It’s not okay to pretend to (false-confidence). Ask for it.

3. Be a butterfly.

‘A butterfly’ is what my co-staffer called me on the last day of camp with a wide smile, ready to hug me.

At first, I thought I wasn’t keen enough on slang to get what she was saying, so I asked her, “What’s a butterfly?” “A butterfly is a beautiful insect with wings,” she said, “You’re such a butterfly.”

It was a weird compliment, but, in hindsight, I think I get why she said it. If I can give myself credit for one thing in this camp, it was keeping my cool. (By the way, I have meditation to thank for that.)

We were all stuck in this dusty forest, exhausted, running on two hours of sleep each day, constantly on the move, under lots of pressure. These were all pretty good reasons to wanna punch a tree, which someone did do, by the way.

We were also anxious (see the first point for why). We had little certainty or relaxation to hold on to. We were grumpy, focused and robotic. People I would be so excited to see on a regular week were the same people whom I wished to headbutt in this week.

But I kept my composure. I stayed calm. I smiled to people, because when people smiled back — and they often did — it felt so good.

Receiving that compliment was very valuable to me, because it helped me realize that staying calm and smiling to others (see point 7) really does help the people around us.

Being that calm person in the room, being a source of balance amidst chaos and disorder is extremely helpful for the people around us.

We have so much power to make or break our environment. Don’t underestimate this.

4. You are going to piss people off, and that’s okay.

I have been somewhat of a people-pleaser all my life, and confrontation is pretty foreign to me.

I quickly learned in camp that management positions do not suit people-pleasers. Sometimes you have to convince people of things, say things people don’t want to hear, give blunt requests, and get people to do things they don’t want to do. And that’s okay.

Thankfully, I’ve been aware of this problem of mine for quite a while now, and have been working on it well before the camp. The camp has helped me bury it deeper into the grave, though.

My first confrontation in the camp was intense. My heart-rate skyrocketed. I’ve rarely seen a guy this upset to see me. It didn’t feel good. Afterwards, however, he and I sat down, calmer than before, and we opened up. I realized he wasn’t mad at me per-se, rather, it was his stress and pressure that I happened to be a part of that frustrated him.

You are not a prostitute. You are not here to please people. Often, especially in managerial positions, we have to tell people they’re wrong (and be told we’re wrong) and confront people for it. The key is to not let it get to you.

5. Match expectations ahead of time.

My God. If I could go back in time and tell my past-self one thing before this camp, it would be to match expectations and make clear boundaries ahead of time. So much needless bickering and frustration would be prevented by doing this.

By clarifying expectations — telling people that they’re going to have to do so-and-so at now-and-then when they might not feel like it ahead of time — people will be less reactive when the time actually comes. They’ll be more open to do what you say and hate you less for it.

I learned this the hard way. I pretty much lost a potential friend because he didn’t understand the amount of commitment his job was going to take, so I had to constantly chase him and tell him to get his act together. If I could, I would have fired him — you can’t fire people from youth movements though. I’m certain in retrospect that this would not have happened, to this extent at least, had I set clear boundaries and clear expectations ahead of time.

6. You are not here to be thanked, appreciated, or even liked.

Chasing that insubordinate subordinate was a stressful experience. I had to chase many others as well (who, thankfully, cooperated much more), and I was often the bad guy. That’s what the job required. I hated it. I hated feeling unliked, disrespected. Truly, that was the hardest part of this whole experience — the emotional turmoil of feeling unliked.

I believe it was on the fourth night, when I spoke to my friend for advice about this, when he said something that hit hard: “Gabriel, none of us are in this to be thanked. We’re doing this because we believe in it, because we care about it. Thanks are of lower priority here.”

Oddly enough, the guy who told me this was arguably the most liked and appreciated person in the camp. Hearing this from him was extremely impactful. I realized that, although I don’t need people to thank me all the time, I have a great desire and longing to be liked and appreciated. This dependance often prevented me from doing or saying what’s necessary. Why would one in their right mind appreciate or respect me for not doing what’s necessary?

“What does not benefit the hive is no benefit to the bee.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

7. Stay human.

It’s so easy, when going up the ranks and going under increasing stress, to lose one’s humanity. It’s so easy, when sleep deprived, hungry, hot, and away from civilization, to lose one’s humanity. By humanity, I mean the attributes that we associate to being human: friendliness, humor, empathy, sensitivity, etc.

So many people at camp, especially the older people, lacked these attributes. They didn’t care who you were or how you felt. They cared that they get their job done. Hell, even when looking at this from a purely logical standpoint, it’s not even being effective if you only care that you get your job done. Sometimes it’s important to help others with their job, too.

But, even more important, we ought to maintain a level of humanity. We are not machines. Our job is not our lives, and it shouldn’t be. Friendship, love, compassion, sensitivity — those are things that lie in the root of our being human. The moment we forget these traits in favor of serving our goals, we beat the air.

One of our staff-members was very human. He constantly suggested and said things to help others cope. He was genuinely considerate — it was incredible. This wasn’t just so reassuring to see, it also helped us to do our jobs more effectively, because we felt appreciated and felt like we weren’t giving ourselves up in the process.

The friend I mentioned earlier, who gave me advice, was also a constant, shining example throughout the camp. He never lost his sense of humor, no matter how tired, cranky or focused he was. Sure, sometimes he said now isn’t the time to joke or even to talk, but you knew it was because he had something truly of urgency.

And, side note, urgency and importance are not the same thing. One thing can be more urgent than the other, but that doesn’t mean it is of more importance.

Your job may seem more urgent, but your humanity is way more important.

8. Above all, be yourself.

When you’re stuck in a forest with the same people for six days, you better have room to be yourself. Otherwise, you’ll suffer immensely.

If I were to sum up everything here, it would be the title of this point. What does being yourself have to do with management? Everything, actually.

Every journal entry I made throughout the camp has reached the same conclusion: “stop trying to be funny/nice/clever/right/(insert positive adjective here).”

The moment you stop trying to be X, you give yourself the freedom to say what you need to say and do what you need to do without fear of the consequences or reactions. Had I simply been myself, I would have had no problem asking questions, being unsure, pissing people off, being unliked, and staying human. The mind, when left to its own devices, can be an extremely effective tool. It is only when we throw desires and fears into the mix that the mind stops working effectively.

Obviously, ‘be yourself’ is much easier said than done. Mindfulness and meditation, as well as Stoicism have been some of the most important and effective tools for helping my brain to be clean and clear again.

Stop trying to be something. Just do the right, true thing. The rest doesn’t matter.

I’ll end this with a quote from Marcus Aurelius, one of Rome’s greatest emperors, as well as a Stoic:

“Just that you do the right thing. The rest doesn’t matter. Cold or warm. Tired or well-rested. Despised or honored. Dying…or busy with other assignments. Because dying, too, is one of our assignments in life. There as well: “To do what needs doing.” Look inward. Don’t let the true nature of anything elude you. Before long, all existing things will be transformed, to rise like smoke (assuming all things become one), or be dispersed in fragments…to move from one unselfish act to another with God in mind. Only there, delight and stillness…when jarred, unavoidably, by circumstances, revert at once to yourself, and don’t lose the rhythm more than you can help. You’ll have a better grasp of the harmony if you keep going back to it.”― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

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