When twilight drops her curtain down and pins it with a star, remember that you have a friend though she may wander far.


Sunday, March 28, 2010

love them anyway.

11 weeks down. 93 to go.

I'm about to hit my three month mark, and I'm told that there's a wall that comes along with that milestone. I feel the wall coming and hope to jump over it effortlessly instead of crashing into it headfirst and falling on my rear end.

About a year ago, I made a list of things about me, so that I could be more "self-aware." One of the things on the list was that I hate change, but love starting over. I have loved the last 11 weeks because everyday is a new day, every weekend off has been a new adventure, and I continue to learn more about my job and my kids all the time. Alas, there is change in the air, and I am suffocating in a world of dislike. Change sucks. I am transitioning prematurely into the chief-in-charge of my group, more new kids are joining the group, more kids are graduating, and I am standing in the middle of it all as the winds whip around me, shifting my world around, challenging me to comply with the change.

Change is pressure for me. Change is uncomfortable for me. Change is not my friend. I feel as if I've been so distracted by the changes, that I haven't embraced the freshness of it all. I have a group of campers that need me to know who they are, and each time a new camper comes into my group, I have a chance to start over. I missed that chance with a few of them, but hopefully there's time to recover and begin to build a relationship where they can trust and respect me as their authority, but an authority who cares.

Matthew Fox comments on Pierre Boulez's definition of what life is about: "The goal of life is not happiness; it is living." And living implies suffering. In fact, the creative person--and that hopefully is all of us--takes on additional burdens of suffering by entering fully into living.
-A Spirituality Named Compassion

It's a tough thing each week to commit to living fully for these kids and for myself, to put their needs ahead of my own, but to satisfy my needs enough to be healthy and capable of loving them and taking care of them. It's a delicate balance that I haven't mastered, and may never master, but somehow each morning, I need to remember that it's important.

It's important even when they cuss me out all day everyday when I hold them accountable for their negative behaviors.
It's important even when they run out of bounds for three hours, forcing you to re-focus your entire day towards getting them back in group.
It's important even when they say they hate me and sit in problems for an entire week.

People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Be good anyway.

Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People need help, but may attack you if you try to help them.
Help them anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.
-Mother Theresa

Sunday, March 21, 2010

dogwoods in bloom.

10 weeks down. 94 to go.

Spring has come, and it is most obvious that it has arrived. The grass is turning green, flowers are popping up along the road, and most impressively and spectacularly, the Dogwoods are in bloom. Rows of trees that only a week ago were barren and brown are now covered in white blossoms. The earth is transforming around me, and I have a front row seat to watch the presentation.

As the earth transitions, I'm feeling some transition in my world as well. A few counselors have left the program. A few new counselors are coming in. I'm no longer the newest counselor, and spent the last 10 days of work alone in group. That alone made for some interesting stories.

More than all of this, though, my group is in transition. 5 of the 11 campers remain who were in group when I first arrived. 5 new campers have joined the ranks. With this many new campers, the dynamic of the group is changing, and most worrisome is that my oldest camper, my leader, is graduating within the next month.

Everytime I think about this, my heart breaks and my brain explodes. Camp is successful when it functions the right way, when the standards are upheld. This camper knows and holds standards better than I do. He's taught me just as much as my co-counselors and my training. I don't want him to go. I fear what will happen to the group when he leaves. I wonder if there's a camper that is ready to step up and lead the group, and I wonder if that next leader is the leader this group needs.

What worries me most is whether or not I am ready to develop a new leader. I am still learning, still mastering the routine, still finding the happy medium between what is black, white, and gray so that I can be consistent for my campers. For camp to run well, it needs counselors to be consistent and to stay. As this transition commences, I know that when the dust has settled, I will be the chief of my group, and I hope I don't fail my campers.

What gives me hope is this: I have the heart to do this. I have built up some emotional strength to get me through the hard times. I am learning the patterns of problems and am gaining the experience to handle these problems. And so very important: I am supported by my peers and supervisors.

I have survived the winter. Challenges are still to come, but the Dogwoods are in bloom, the skies are blue, and things are going to be all right. It's the little miracles in life that keep you going, and I am surrounded by miracles each day. The sun that brings light into the night sky, the Woodpeckers in the distance, the playful Cardinals in the trees, the laughter of my kids on a good day, the accomplishments of my kids on a bad one, the slow creep of darkness into the day, the light of lanterns at night, and the sounds of the woods at night once the kids are asleep. God is all around me, and I am tuned in.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

flying logs and trust walks.

8 weeks down. 96 to go.

I'm sitting in a coffeshop in Chapel Hill, NC. Chapel Hill is a very, very neat town. Home of the UNC Tarheels, the town has a lot of pride in the beautiful school and has a lot of pride in itself. The thing I love about towns like Wilmington, Wrightsville Beach, and Chapel Hill is that they really do try to keep the charm of their cities alive. That's the perfect word for them: charming. I've been charmed by them, at least.

I find that these cities are my safe haven after a hard week of work. This week was hard. My co-counselor went on vacation for two weeks, leaving me alone with my campers. Just writing that sentence made my head hurt. Being alone with my campers is tough, tough, tough. When I'm away from them, I can start thinking about how I can better communicate with them and lead them, but when I'm with them, all of those thoughts go down the drain as it turns from an educactional program to a survival challenge. When I wasn't dodging flying logs and traffic cones or asking someone to sweep the floor for the bajillionth time, I think there were a few small victories. One being a trust walk. I may or may not have forced my campers to walk back to campsite in pairs with one partner blindfolded. They refused to do it until we threatened to pack them out for dinner if they didn't participate. While they didn't quite stay settled or respect the "trust" aspect of the walk, they completed it, survived, and even thought about what they learned for more than 5 seconds.

I have three days off this weekend because I'm working a six-day on, one day off, four days on shift in the next 11 days. Ouch. I'm going to sleep all day tomorrow.

For now, though, I'm enjoying Chapel Hill. I went "contra" dancing last night with counselors from another camp in NC; it's beautiful outside; there's an Ultimate game in 40 minutes; and there are new friends to meet and new experiences to be had. Life is good today.