Reflection by Brother Usama A.
What even is bush crafting?
Honestly, I didn’t even know what bush crafting was when I signed up to go. So as an FYI, bush crafting is the art of living in the natural world by using the resources around you for sustenance, safety, and comfort with minimal equipment. It’s a skillset built on understanding the land, how to move through it, how to use it, and how to respect it. Many of these abilities mirror what early Muslims practiced in their daily lives: navigating rural terrain, identifying water sources, hunting, tracking, building shelters, tying knots, and crafting tools. These weren’t hobbies; they were part of what made them strong, capable, and self-sufficient.
What was my mindset going in?
So… I live a very comfortable and cozy life — central heating, warm clothes, food whenever I want it. The idea of stepping into the cold and wild wasn’t naturally appealing to me and never really has been in my life.
But I kept hearing from brothers that a strong Muslim should have bush crafting or at least basic survival skills. Not because we plan to live in the woods, but because these skills bring something out of you as a man: patience, grit, proactive preparedness, and reliance on Allah. And it made sense: the Prophet ﷺ used to retreat to Ghar Hira for reflection and solitude.
I recall a hadith that was brought up by one of the brothers:
The Prophet ﷺ said:
“The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer…” (Muslim).
This strength includes physical preparedness, resourcefulness, and the ability to take care of oneself and others.
Dr. Omar mentioned to me how, when he was young, programs like scouts helped build these basic human competencies so to him this was more about a Muslim father doing this with his son. It reminded me that what we were learning wasn’t just for fun; these were skills that used to be passed down generationally, father to child, shaping character along the way. As a new father myself and someone who never got this opportunity with his father, seeing both Dr. Omar and Dr. Syed do this with their sons was a big deal.
As a carryover from my camp sunnah experience, I was super excited to once again be with a great group of Muslim brothers. Even if I didn’t love the cold, I figured the company alone would make it worthwhile. Brother Pranto told me afterward that he never thought he’d sign up for something like this either, but is now glad he did, which in retrospect makes me feel like many of us were entering this with similar uncertainty.
What did we do?
We started the session by meeting our instructor and going over basic safety rules — mostly centered around knives, spacing, and protecting ourselves and others. After that, the next day and a half became a blend of learning, trying, failing, and trying again.
We learned:
- different types of knives and how to use them safely
- how to carve wood to create small tools
- fire-starting techniques with minimal equipment
- useful knots and their real-world applications
- how to make cordage (ropes) from natural materials like cattail leaves
Fire-making was where I struggled the most. It was frustrating — my hands were cold, the materials weren’t cooperating, and it made me very aware of how soft my everyday life has become. On the other hand, knots came naturally, and making cordage was surprisingly intuitive and fun. You could immediately see how practical some of these skills were.
I wasn’t the only one struggling, though! Watching each brother struggle in some way and then how the other brothers rushed to help, guide and teach was amazing to see! As Hamdi put it, “with unity we can build strength.” And he was right, having brothers around who encouraged one another changed the whole experience.
It’s weird to me how in this individualistic society we are told to be self-sufficient and be able to handle things on our own to the point where it can feel shameful to ask for help. I caught myself feeling this shame a few times. But what is the point of brotherhood and riding under one banner (Islam) if you don’t rely on each other and ask for help?
After a full day full of activities we spent the evening with a charcoal cooked dinner and a night of watching Toronto lose the World Series in the cabin, with intermittent Islamic trivia during commercials.
How did I feel afterwards?
The biggest realization I had is that these are basic human skills. Knife handling matters everywhere. Fire-making isn’t just for survival; even starting a backyard fire pit uses the exact same principles. Knots are incredibly useful when tying down a load in a truck or securing something for travel. I also felt like I tapped into something deeper in myself — a sense of masculinity, competence, and readiness that society doesn’t encourage anymore. Tapping into this also revealed just how much I lack in each of these areas, which doesn’t cause anxiety but does internally push me to prioritize these skills more.
As the years go by, I struggle to remember much of what I have done each specific year, save for a few memories. This experience was a memory that I know I’ll remember the rest of my life. Partly due to the intentionality with the time spent but also the last impact it had on my mindset.
Going home after the course, I felt a strange mix of humility and eagerness. Humility because nature exposes your weaknesses instantly. Eagerness because this was only a small set of skills that I learned and now know there are many more to delve into in the future.
Spiritually, spending time in the cold, in solitude, with brothers, reminded me of how Islam encourages reflection in nature. It’s a place where you feel your dependency on Allah more clearly, and where the dunya feels quieter.
