How I survived 48 hours alone in the wilderness.
And what it taught me about asking for help.
šš¼Ā Hey, IāmĀ Anna! Iām a founder and operator in an ongoing relationship with writing. Welcome to my weekly newsletter where I share business, career and life lessons that Iāve learned over years of trying hard, failing often, and on occasion, succeeding too.
When I was fourteen I spent 48 hours in the wilderness completely and utterly alone.
It happened during a five weeklong school camp called āTrekā, where fifteen friends, two camp leaders and I fought our way to the tops of mountains, soaked our blistered feet in bubbling streams and spoke about every topic under the sun as we pounded our boots into endless dirt tracks.
Halfway through the trip, we were individually dropped off at random locations in the bush with no instruction other than to stay put and survive. My campsite was eerie, the branches of the surrounding Eucalyptus trees hugged each other tightly, blocking out most of the fading afternoon light. As soon as I arrived I ripped opened my bag of supplies. In it were a box of BBQ Shapes, a tube of sweetened condensed milk, a sleeping bag, a rope, and a faded fluoro orange tarp whose colour reminded me of a boiler suit worn by jail inmates. As the sun set I got to work hoisting up my tarp; a shelter for my two days of solitary confinement.
That night, rain pelted down viciously as sticks and leaves pummelled the tarp above, but despite its ferociousness I managed to stay warm and dry. I was grateful for my shelter, and looking up, it struck me how many people across time and space had contributed to my tarpās existence. I saw the scientists whoād discovered the plastic compounds it was made from. I saw the industrial designers whoād come up with its specs. I saw the hands of the factory workers whoād made it, and the captain of the cargo ship whoād navigated its container to Australian shores. I saw the hundreds of miles it had travelled. The thousands of hours in its creation. The unmeasurable innovation and invention and effort that led to me sitting alone in the wilderness, sheltered by the rain.
That night almost two decades ago I had a revelation: that even in our most isolated moments weāre never really alone. Weāre always cradled by the collective efforts of others.
Thereās no such thing as self made.
I mistakenly thought my survival in the bush rested solely on my shoulders, but I was wrong. In life too, itās easy to think that those around us are wholly self-sufficient, successful because of their work ethic, natural talents and grit. But everyone has a team of supporters who exist in the shadows, and we all stand on the shoulders of the inventors and innovators whoāve come before us.
Take this newsletter: Iām able to write it thanks to Steve Jobs who created the Apple Mac, and Bob Cahn who invented the internet, and Samuel Johnson who collated the first edition of the English Dictionary, and the thousands of people Iāve met whose insights and ideas are now enmeshed with my own. Their legacies, and millions more, are the threads woven through every word on the page.
The truth is that every business thatās ever been created, every book thatās been written, every artwork thatās been painted, every governmental policy thatās been inked, every peace deal thatās been brokered, every song thatās been sung, every image thatās been captured - theyāre only made possible through the contributions of us all.
Ask for help, loudly.
If human progress is the result of collaboration and connection and if our most basic needs - like food, water and shelter - are met via the contribution of others, then why do we (and by we, I mean me) think that itās possible to do hard things alone?
How can we build businesses or create art or enact change by ourselves?
The answerās simple. We canāt.
We need great people to do great things. We need their input and influence. We need their ideas. Their guidance. Their skills. Their experience.
We need their help.
My toxic trait is that I know this deeply, yet find it hard to ask. I wear my independence like a badge, Iām a goddamn martyr of my own making. But Iām trying my best to stop being my worst enemy, and these prompts help me when I struggle to reach out:
Iāve always been impressed with how you approach XYZ. Do you mind if we jam on this problem together?
Iām feeling a bit overwhelmed, can we talk this over?
Youāre experienced in this area, do you mind sharing your thoughts on where to go next?
And the good olā classicā¦
For the love of God, help me!
Human progress relies on us being able to ask for help. Your progress in life depends on it too. So ask for help daily. Ask for it loudly. Ask for it proudly.
Because weāre designed to rely on the hands and minds of others.
Just like all those years ago, that faded fluoro orange tarp was designed to shelter me from the storm.
š Let me know what you think
Does this newsletter resonate with you? Leave a comment below.
š«¶š¼ Subscribe for more ideas
To receive a dose of thought provoking career, business and life lessons in your inbox each Friday morning, you know what to do.
'But everyone has a team of supporters who exist in the shadows, and we all stand on the shoulders of the inventors and innovators whoāve come before us.' A great insight, and one that is truly humbling. It makes us realise the folly of genuine originality.
But I'm not too sure the camp organiser would pass a WHS check š
What a great way to rethink "self made", "self taught" and all its iterations, which we toss around way too often. We stand on the shoulders of giants... and occasionally, an Australian campsite.