HOUSEKEEPING

Yesterday, Michael and I rode our bicycles over to Kelly’s for some camp prep stuff. Then we rode our bicycles to a new ice cream place that just opened on Troost because bicycle rides equals ice cream time. On our way home, we were pedaling up a fairly steep incline and normally I would not be having a good time, but because I now have pedal assist the incline was easy. I just pedaled up the hill. Then I passed Michael and I said “Okay….I like my bicycle now.” The E-bike was not an immediate sell for me. The sudden increase in speed when you pedal took a whole lot of getting used to and I felt wobbly on previous rides. Sunday’s ride was different. I finally felt comfortable. Maybe this will be my two wheel ride to work vehicle while I wait on the next scooter. See? Things are already looking up. I’ve received some very important text reminders that joy is not a thing; it’s a feeling. I have all of the things that V taught me.

Last night I had terrible dreams. They were all versions of Chris’s last few weeks with us and in each one, I would start sobbing. My sobs would wake me up. I would change positions, fall back to sleep and start all over again. I finally crawled out of bed Monday morning with a stuffed up nose and puffy eyes. I looked at my swollen face in the bathroom mirror and said to my reflection “Enough.” I’ve had enough of this moping about. Camp Wildling starts for me on Wednesday and even though the weather forecast predicts rain for most of the time and the temperatures are going to be down right chilly, I am ready for all of it. I want to be in the woods with my camp friends no matter how soggy it might get. Laughter and joy will keep us warm.

What I learned from June camp was that accessing the internet or getting any kind of cell signal required standing at the top of the hill, near the entrance and holding the phone above your head. So, I am not even going to try to post while I am away. I’ve backed my new journal, my new pen (both of these gifts are from Karen as part of the Lightmaker’s Team) and The Lightmaker’s Manifesto. I’m going to bundle up and snuggle in close to a fire pit and do some thinking about the whisper I hear every time I pick up this book and what that whisper means in regards to activism. My goal is to return from camp a little bit wiser, little bit rested, and a little bit more joyful.

Have a great week everyone!

CAMP WILDLING

Every summer as a tween and teen, I attended 4-H camp. I was a camper and then in my teens, I was a counselor. Camp was always set for the hottest month of the summer. Usually we were nowhere near water and cabins were not air conditioned. The food was basic cafeteria camp food and the shower situation was iffy. Despite all the sunburns and bug bites and general discomforts of camp, I always had the most fun. There were water balloon wars, prank battles, and sneaking out after curfew shenanigans. We sang silly songs around the campfire and we formed bonds with our bunk mates that seemed like forever bonds. Everyone cried at closing ceremonies because we did not want the fun to end, we did not want to leave these new friendships.

This was Camp Wildling.

For those of you wanting to know what adult summer camp looks like, it looks just like the above except with a swimming pool full of floating devices and a package of yoga and meditation wrapped in a self care ribbon. We floated in the pool. We did yogad. We crafted. We star gazed. We bonded. We laughed (I thought Kelly was going to choke on her veggie burger) so hard and we cried so much. We saw each other. We heard each other’s stories. And it was FUCKING AMAZING. At closing ceremonies, we went around the circle and shared what we got from camp and almost every single one of us started with “I didn’t know what I was getting into when I signed up for this.” None of us knew what to expect from camp, but almost every single one of us ended with “this was so much more than I could have expected.” And the gratitude for what each camper experienced was immeasurable.

I came back to work on Monday, still drunk from the Kool-aid that was summer camp and fell right into a bucket of freezing cold water. Re-entry to life was a breathtaking shock to my system and when I peeked over to Facebook, I noticed that I was not the only camper struggling with a return to this life. I think it is because all of us at camp shed the mask of ourselves that we wear for the general public. Camp allowed us the freedom to be our true authentic selves. We each brought an extra bag of grief, strain and worry with us and we each took turns to help carry each other’s extra bag so that we could have moments without so much of the weight, the heaviness that comes with grief. I don’t know about the others, but I found that when I tried to replace that old general public mask, it no longer fit quite right. Even though I know how right it feels to be my true authentic self, it also feels a little bit scary and a lot vulnerable. Though, I’m not scared or vulnerable enough to stop this version of me that has emerged from this camp.

I came back from camp a more confident Cindy.

These next two days are going to be a blur of work and packing. We leave Wednesday early early to head out west. I promise to return from those adventures with some stories to share.

COUNTDOWN

I woke up this morning and the first though in my head was what if I can’t get my laptop to connect to the projector or the wifi at camp. How am I going to get a slideshow to work? What about music? What if I have a tech failure? I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m a liar. A fake. A fraud. I’m a gosh dang imposter, but I have a tent and a whole carton of eggs and some snacks. So maybe no one will notice the whole fraudulent part. They’ll all be too dazzled by the pretty multicolored eggs from my chickens.

I am about to step into something that is a little (okay… a lot) outside my comfort zone and make myself vulnerable on purpose. Last night, Kelly (the camp director) asked me how I was doing and my response was “antsy”. I am not packed but I have neat stacks of things I plan on taking scattered around the house. While, I’m gathering stuff into piles, I am also thinking about the Grand Canyon and how unprepared I feel for that trip. Instead of focusing on right now, I am thinking about what I need to get done in the two days that I am home before we head out for Arizona. I feel like I’m standing in a doorway with one foot in the room that leads to summer camp and the other foot in the room that goes west. I know I need to step into the summer camp room but I am just sort of stuck with indecision. One minute I feel like I have everything together and the next minute I’m breathing in bag.

I don’t even know where I’m going. I have yet to download a map. This realization has me tilting my head like a curious puppy because it does not sound like me. I am a planner. I mean my weekly meal-plan/grocery lists are legendary. My daily life is organized. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays are X-tend Barre class and smoothie days. Tuesdays and Thursdays are rowing and avocado toast days. Tuesday evenings are declutter and dust days, while every Wednesday I clean the bathroom. Laundry starts on Friday evening and is finished by Saturday evening. When I attend a science conference, I start reading abstracts and talk lists weeks before I leave and I have made a list of talks that I specifically want to attend. This is why I am really surprised that I have only taken glances at the camp schedule or only have a basic idea of where I am driving to on Wednesday.

The space between my brain and forehead feels tight. I am sure that if someone held a crystal pendulum over my head, my crown chakra would cause it to spin wildly out of control. There is a whole lot happening inside my head and it isn’t really all summer camp. It’s mostly all the thoughts on the rest of my life. In fact, summer camp might be the best place for me to be this week. I’m so mentally distracted that last week I failed to secure anything in my scooter crate and lost a sweater (Michael found it for me) and my work badge (lost forever). Four days in the woods with sketchy cell phone signal and a group of campers to keep track of (I’m a camp counselor too….I’ll be channeling those 4-H days) might just be the thing I need to settle my head space. I just need to throw everything I can think of into my car and drive far far away. The only downside is that I can’t take Josephine with me.

I just want to be there already with my tent set up, and all settled in. Once that happens, everything will fall into place. The doubts will float down the river and I will have some space to breath proper without the need of a bag.