This past summer, I was provided the opportunity to create an adventure therapy component for my treatment groups. I put together a series of eight day-long hikes that all youth enrolled in my Monday group, which has a focus on motivational enhancement, went on.
Hikes included the Snoqualimie Tunnel, Denny Creek, Boulder River and Twin Falls, among others. None of these would be considered especially challenging by an experienced hiker. However, many of my clients were stepping outside their Comfort Zone just by participating. I felt choosing accessible hikes to enjoyable locations provided an effective introduction to adventure therapy for these youth.
My principal goal for the hikes was to integrate nature experiences into the treatment process. Just being in the wilderness was a powerful and therapeutic experience. In addition, I hoped to provide my clients opportunities to experientically discover the inherent spirituality of nature, and increase group cohesion. Having led adverture therapy outings with youth before, I was also looking forward to the many opportunities to explore nature as an amazing metaphor for recovery, sobriety, change and moving forward.
More than that happened. These hikes built group cohesion and trust within the participants that transferred from the outings and into the group room, leading to more meaningful treatment experiences. This is true not just with the youth who participated, but even with their group-mates whom have experienced the positive modeling of the hikers.
Occassionally during adventure outings amazing personal breakthroughs occur. I've witnessed them in the past and know these can be powerful. This didn't happen during Summer 2008. What I did clearly observe, though, are slow, steady steps--the steps that take you up the side of a mountain, through a glacier-fed creek, or into a pitch-dark tunnel. Those are all places the participants didn't think they could go, maybe didn't want to try, but went anyway this summer. All while taking slow, steady steps toward a life free from substance abuse.
On hikes, I'm generally goofy and spin sometimes over-the-top metaphors about rocky paths, slippery slopes, the destination being worth the journey, and--well, you get the idea. Slow, steady steps, though, now that's the real life stuff of recovery. That may be the best possible metaphor to leave lingering in the minds of the youth who spent the summer hiking with me.
