Readers of Outside’s summer skills package: I envy you. As you read stories about starting a fire, or sharpening a knife, and put those lessons into practice, you’re entering an entirely new world full of exciting discoveries, curiosity, and abilities. The process of learning is one that too often feels intimidating. But being bad at stuff isn’t just a necessary part of the skill-learning process; it’s also often the most enjoyable.

　　One of the things you experience as you learn new skills is freedom. The freedom to be bad at something. Without the weight of other people’s expectations, or pressure to perform, you’re free to simply to focus on the experience.

　　These days, when I start that fire, or hand someone a knife, there need to be flames and that knife has to be sharp. If there’s not or it isn’t dinner, will be delayed and let downs will be felt. Events will transition from smooth progress into a problem. The time is no longer there for a mistake or an oversight during preparation. But you are given that time try stacking the wood a different way, or going back to your car for a different form of fire starter. Your project can become a fun activity for the entire group. Like solving a jigsaw puzzle with friends—one that won’t be spoiled if you end up serving the hot dogs cold alongside it.

　　You also get to look at everything in that campsite with fresh eyes. That rock over there? That could help support a fire ring! Will this log light better than another because it feels lighter? That’s discovery. The humble experience of building a campfire feels like nothing but, because it’s exciting and new.

　　Challenge is a feature in the learning process, not a bug. Shit happens, and learning to deal with it is the learning you need to master a skill. Discovering your firewood got soaked in an overnight downpour is a reminder to store it out of the weather, sure, but it’s also an opportunity to learn to split it open with your knife and expose its dry center. A slip during the process is a chance to practice first aid and a reminder to be a little more careful.

　　As those lessons add up, you’ll be able to take them further and rely on them more. A simple car camping trip to a site with picnic tables and metal fire rings might feel like a big adventure now, but after making some mistakes in that relatively safe environment, or forgetting to bring something in a place where goods can still be purchased or borrowed, you’ll be equipping yourself with the knowledge you need to scale into new environments that involve more consequence.

　　A night out in a commercial campground is great. With stars in the sky and marshmallows (hopefully) roasting over a fire, the simple pleasure of time outdoors doesn’t get much more pure. And you have total control over where you take things from there. Want to start that fire away from other people, worn out from walking all day? Maybe you’ll throw on a backpack, learn some lessons about water purification, and start a fire way out in the woods, where you’ll know what kind of sticks to pick up to get one going as easily as possible. Or maybe you’ll push your camping trips further into the fall, when there’s risk of snow, and your newfound ability to ensure everyone can get warm starts to feel less like a novelty and more essential.

　　As you stare at your campfire, feeling safe and whole inside an unknown environment, you might find yourself contemplating the countless generations of human who have done just that before you. Or maybe even the importance of ensuring future generations will be able to do the same. As the outdoors becomes a part of your life, you may start considering how you can help protect it.

　　Somewhere between the excitement of that first campfire and forgetting there was a time when you did’t know how to make one, you may also discover a desire to share the experience with other people. To teach them the skills that you learned, and that will bring an excitement all of its own.

　　Inherent to the task of teaching is the responsibility to keep pursuing mastery—and the opportunity to see the outdoors and all its wonder through a fresh set of eyes. In taking that on, you give yourself a reason to keep learning and keep finding novel solutions, along with the more immediate satisfaction inherent in watching someone learn.

　　And as you help someone else hone the skills necessary to enjoy the outdoors, you are also creating a fellow traveler. Someone you can enjoy experiencing nature with, of course, but also an ally in helping you protect it. Because, as you learn the skills necessary to go from a novice to an expert, you’re also learning about your own place on this planet and the important role we humans play in nature. Its a role you now know the importance of fulfilling.