Hi, I'm Dan Trotter.

If you've arrived here, you might be wondering what this is all about.

The way I see it:

Modern life demands that we work hard, strive, build and succeed. That's what it takes — and there's real pride and satisfaction in that.

Hard work earns us the freedom to choose how we live. And the greatest thing that freedom can buy isn't more. It's time.

Time to fall in love, laugh, dance, hug family and friends, eat great food, enjoy a delicious wine now and then, and travel far.

And time to go slow. To get back to our true nature — in nature — and remember what it was all for.

Because sometimes we have to go slow to do more of what we love.

—

For thousands of generations, our ancestors lived in harmony with the natural world — the turning of the seasons, the pull of the tides, the coming and going of the light. That knowing is still in all of us, just buried under the noise.

Wild Like Life is an invitation to dig it back up: to step into magnificent country and reconnect — with nature, with each other, and with the wilder, truer part of yourself you didn't know you'd lost.

It’s about aliveness — a celebration of all that you are.

Want to know more?

(Or read on.)

Hard work earns us the freedom to choose how we live. And the greatest thing that freedom can buy isn't more. It's time.

Time to fall in love, laugh, dance, hug family and friends, eat great food, enjoy a delicious wine now and then, and travel far.

And time to go slow. To get back to our true nature — in nature — and remember what it was all for.

Because sometimes we have to go slow to do more of what we love.

—

It’s about aliveness — a celebration of all that you are.

Want to know more?

(Or read on.)

Your home away from home.

A little about me.

I'm fifty-something now. Sun-loved, a bit battle-scarred. A doer of deeds, a traveller's traveller, a fisherman's friend. A fantastic fuck-up at times; a life-loving liver for most of it.

I've won, I've failed, I've loved and I've definitely lost. Most importantly, I have lived.

—

I’ve also had hard times that took me to the depths of my soul — sad, scared, alone and hurt. For months on end I couldn’t find a way out of the darkness I had descended into.

A relationship had ended. The business I’d built was dwindling. Coming up to fifty, I found myself in the arena of heartbreak, loss and fear — marred by dust, tears and the scars of old wounds — wondering what came next.

At some point I decided that rather than sit around being maudlin, I’d go wandering.

I forgot what day of the week it was. I fished, travelled, met strange people, did weird things, laughed and cried. I spent a lot of time alone looking inward, and a lot of time looking out at the wild beauty of the world around me.

Slowly, I found my way back to possibility, to love, to purpose, and to what it feels like to be truly alive.

Wild Like Life grew from there.

Interested in a conversation?

—

Barefoot in this country since I could walk, I’ve spent a lifetime exploring — learning to read landscapes and the subtle signals of water, weather and light, and learning to slow down.

I know where the good water lies. I can see the displacement of ten thousand fish just beneath the surface, and the way missing trees reveal the gully below. I’ve driven down a lot of wrong roads to find the right ones — mistakes I made so you don’t have to.

I’m a marine scientist by training, and for twenty-five years I built and led creative businesses across broadcast television, video production and ventures of my own. More recently, I completed Firekeeper — Thirteen Pines’ intensive eight-month men’s facilitation and leadership training — along with rites of passage training through the Rites of Passage Institute, and Australian wilderness first aid.

All of it shapes how I approach Wild Like Life: with responsibility, preparation and deep respect for what can happen when people are given the time, place and space to meet themselves more fully.

Sounds great. I'd love to connect.

(Who’s this for? Read on.)

A little about me.

I'm fifty-something now. Sun-loved, a bit battle-scarred. A doer of deeds, a traveller's traveller, a fisherman's friend. A fantastic fuck-up at times; a life-loving liver for most of it.

I've won, I've failed, I've loved and I've definitely lost. Most importantly, I have lived.

—

I’ve also had hard times that took me to the depths of my soul — sad, scared, alone and hurt. For months on end I couldn’t find a way out of the darkness I had descended into.

At some point I decided that rather than sit around being maudlin, I’d go wandering.

Slowly, I found my way back to possibility, to love, to purpose, and to what it feels like to be truly alive.

Wild Like Life grew from there.

Interested in a conversation?

—

Barefoot in this country since I could walk, I’ve spent a lifetime exploring — learning to read landscapes and the subtle signals of water, weather and light, and learning to slow down.

All of it shapes how I approach Wild Like Life: with responsibility, preparation and deep respect for what can happen when people are given the time, place and space to meet themselves more fully.

Sounds great. I'd love to connect.

(Who’s this for? Read on.)

… reconnection, anywhere you want to go,

… reconnection, anywhere you want to go.

… reconnection, anywhere you want to go,

Who is Wild Like Life for?

For anyone who wants to begin the lifelong practice of feeling fully alive.

People who’ve worked hard and built much, who’ve won and also know what it is to lose. People who have wondered:

There’s got to be more to all of this?

It’s an adventure into the majesty and magic of the Australian wilderness, curated around whatever makes you come alive.

Time with me should feel like time with an old friend you never have to explain yourself to.

Somewhere you can let your guard down, be unapologetically yourself, and trust that I know where we’re going, how to keep you safe and — most importantly — how to have a ripper of a time together.

What I hope you walk away with is simple.

Your breathing slows. Your gaze moves from near to far. You start noticing the rhythms of nature: the flash of colour in the beat of a wing, the way light moves across water.

The things you were worried about seem less worrisome.

And then you go home to the same responsibilities waiting for you. The challenges don’t go away, but the way you see them, feel them and respond to them will be different.

This sounds like what I’ve been searching for. Hook me up.

(Still here? Thank you. Just one more section below.)

… crystal-clear mountain streams.

My designed intention.

More than anything, I want to open up the idea that your future can be whatever you want it to be — and that with heartfelt effort, and by facing down your fears, anything is possible.

So that when you reach the end, you can look back across the whole of your life and say out loud:

Well, that was fucking awesome.

A great life, well lived.