We recently picked up Will from a week at church camp. Despite only becoming a teenager a few weeks ago, the transformation is underway. When Jenny and I asked him how the week was, he said, “Good.” When pressed to elaborate, Will said he was too tired to tell us anything. Since we have had two previous teenagers, we knew better than to press. He would share on his own time.
Fifteen minutes later, we couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Stories abounded. Exhaustion temporarily subsided. Will told us about every activity, every song, every discussion. He mentioned learning every kid’s name this year, admitting he did a poor job of it the previous year. And he told us about a leaf bug named Jeff.
On one of the first days, Will discovered this remarkable bug perched high near the restrooms. The other kids gathered around and marveled at the curious creature. The following morning, when it was still there, the kids affectionately named him Jeff. Throughout the week, they regularly talked and checked in on him, making him a part of their group and camp experience. Jeff quickly became the highlight of their day.
But then, one of the girls wanted to touch him. Ignoring advice and to the dismay of her peers, she reached up high and tapped the bug with her finger. Jeff fell. The bright green insect hit a large rock and tumbled to the ground. Now, there was a question about whether the fall killed Jeff or not. Some kids believed he was already deceased before the infamous touch. But the impact was the same regardless of the exact time of death—a shared sadness spread among the campers.
Delicately, they picked him up and constructed a leafy bed where they laid him. The youthful procession made their way to a wooded area where they dug a hole and buried their friend. Each kid then took a turn offering a eulogy and prayer for Jeff and his family. Yes, there were even some tears.
There are so many lessons and bits of wisdom I took away from this story. There was the deep sense of friendship and empathy the kids demonstrated toward this creature. There was their respect for all life, even toward a humble bug. And then, their appreciation for the beauty and diversity of creation and the awareness to truly “see” what’s around them.
Consider the keywords I just wrote—empathy, community, respect, appreciation, beauty, diversity, creation, awareness, and truly seeing. This kind of deep wisdom is only cultivated through life experiences. When Will (or any of us) is at home, lost in digital and virtual realities, scrolling from one YouTube or TikTok video to the next, it robs us of these lived experiences, and the opportunity to cultivate deep wisdom. Our disconnection from reality, especially in kids, diminishes the chance to grow deeper and wiser as fully integrated, fully alive human beings.
Whether they realized or appreciated it or not, Will and his friends learned that breaking free from their self-induced technological shackles allowed them to be more creative, imaginative, and cooperative. Leaving behind their phones and video games enhanced their interactions with each other and the natural world, enabling them to discover Jeff and form a community through loss. These kind of formative early experiences are essential for growing into healthy, resilient adults who can function and thrive together through the highs and lows of life—something technology will never give them.
Question
How can I create more opportunities for real-life experiences that foster empathy, community, and a deeper appreciation for the world around me?
Peace,
Brandon