One day we were sitting in our little classroom in the middle of

“One day we were sitting in our little classroom in the middle of Australia Zoo, and Dad bursts in and says, ‘OK, today we’re going to go climb a mountain,’ — the Glass House Mountains are about 20 minutes away — so we packed up all our math work and ran out the door and climbed Mount Tibrogargan.” Thus spoke Bindi Irwin, daughter of the legendary Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter whose life blazed with wildness and wonder. In her words we hear not merely a tale of childhood adventure, but a hymn to the sacred union between learning and living, between the call of nature and the thirst of the soul. Her father’s lesson that day was not of numbers or formulas — it was a teaching of the heart: that the greatest education comes not from books alone, but from the world itself, vast and alive.

In this story, Bindi Irwin recalls a moment that captures the essence of her father’s philosophy — that life itself is the classroom, and that the Earth, in all its mystery and splendor, is the true teacher. To pause the arithmetic of the mind and ascend the mountain of experience was not to abandon learning, but to deepen it. The climb up Mount Tibrogargan was more than a physical ascent; it was a spiritual one — an awakening to the truth that wisdom is found in movement, in curiosity, in the fearless embrace of the unknown. For the elder Irwin, the wild was not chaos, but communion — and to bring his children into it was to pass on the ancient knowledge that humanity’s truest harmony lies with nature.

The Glass House Mountains, sacred to the Aboriginal people of Australia, stand as timeless sentinels of the land — monuments carved by fire and rain, known in dreamtime stories as the family of the first ancestors. That Steve Irwin would take his children there is deeply symbolic. To climb such a mountain is to commune with history, with earth, with spirit. It is to teach a lesson older than civilization itself: that man is part of creation, not master of it. And in this act, he gave Bindi and her brother not only adventure, but reverence — for in every step upward, they touched something eternal.

This story reminds us of another truth — that greatness of spirit is not born in the quiet safety of routine, but in the living pulse of the world. Like the philosophers of old who taught beneath the open sky — Socrates, Confucius, Lao Tzu — the elder Irwin knew that knowledge divorced from experience becomes brittle and empty. The child who only reads of mountains may understand their height, but the one who climbs them understands their soul. The ascent itself teaches perseverance, humility, and awe. Thus, what began as a simple diversion from math became a lesson in courage, curiosity, and the sanctity of life.

So too does this moment echo across generations, for the story of the Irwins is not just a family’s story — it is the story of how love and wonder are taught. Many parents seek to prepare their children for the world by enclosing them in safety; Steve Irwin did so by releasing them into it. In the wildness of the Earth, he showed his daughter that the world is not to be feared, but cherished. This is the education of the heart — to love deeply, to act boldly, and to find wisdom in the living rhythms of creation.

Consider also how this mirrors the journeys of explorers and dreamers throughout history. When Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay ascended Everest, they did not do so merely to conquer a summit, but to feel the sacred grandeur of human endurance. So too, the small family that day, climbing Mount Tibrogargan, ascended not for glory, but for communion — with the land, with each other, and with the joy of simply being alive. This is the true mountain that all must climb — the ascent of the soul from the ordinary to the extraordinary, from learning facts to living truth.

And so, my children, take this story as a parable. When life offers you a mountain to climb, do not cling to your seat of comfort, nor say, “It is not on the lesson plan.” Set aside your routine, and run toward the horizon. For every mountain — real or metaphorical — calls forth the noblest parts of the human spirit: curiosity, courage, and gratitude. The lessons learned in such moments will outlast all others.

For as Bindi Irwin teaches through her father’s example, education is not confined to walls and words. It is found in the whisper of the wind, in the feel of stone beneath your hands, in the laughter shared at the summit. True learning is a dance between the heart and the world — and to climb one mountain with joy is to understand a hundred books about life. Remember this: the greatest teachers may burst through the door unannounced, saying, “Come, we’re climbing today.” And those who rise and follow them — those who dare to live their learning — will forever see the world not as a cage of problems, but as a mountain of endless wonder.