Comments on: There and Back Again, Part Three

By: les

les — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 06:31:27 +0000

Unfortunately no, the blog is limited only to people who have a profile on the site. Haha yes. That’s sounds like a good niche actually.
Also, my stomach is bubbling…. it feels very weird.

By: Kenton Whitman

Kenton Whitman — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 23:43:46 +0000

Hello les,

Thanks for sharing all of this — it’s amazing to see another’s experience shared so freely. Do you have a link to your blog? It would be nice to include it if you’d like so that readers can learn more about your experiences.

Isn’t it interesting how we can often miss the immediate experience in favor of worrying about the opinions of others? =) It almost seems that we’re taught to be so concerned about what others think, and the result is that everyone is worrying about what other people think about them, and no one is really paying attention to anyone else. I remember once reading something like this: Everyone’s worried about what others think about them, but the truth is that no one else is paying any attention to you at all. They’re too worried about what other people are thinking of them!

I also empathize with you regarding the costs of these programs. I recently took a young man into the woods for 10 days of ’survival therapy’ — http://kentonwhitman.com/2009/09/14/the-beeches-and-the-oaks/ It was an amazing experience, but not one that you could find commercially unless you paid a LOT of money. It would be nice if there were some less expensive, quality options available. Maybe that’s something that needs to be created! Perhaps you’d even be the one to do it . . . =)

Hugs,
Kenton

By: les

les — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 19:16:23 +0000

Well I wrote a short blog entry on going to camp afterwords. It’s so weird to read it again because my writing style is really different now.
Excerpt:
It’s something you really have to experience for yourself. No words can describe those experiences, those feelings. Well maybe they can, I’m just not a good enough writer to find the ones that’ll do it justice. It was like joining a cult, taking a drug. I had so many firsts. Jumping off a ledge, seeing the view from atop a mountain, swimming in a lake, being assaulted by my camp counselor with a burnin (h-o-t) hot marshmellow, square dancing, screaming crazy stupid camp cheers in the lunch room, hiking, caving, rock climbing, being totally alone with all kinds of new people from all over the world (mostly the US though), no sunscreen, not washing my face for days after sweating like a pig in the scorching sun(and oddly, my skin has never looked better). Don’t even get me started on the everyday idiosyncrasies like screaming MONK everytime we go over monk’s overlook. I moved forward in a state of self-progression. My true character was starting to come out and live. There was no make-up, and my other outer mask started to wear away. Dumb matters that were presssing mind on the first day totally evaporated. It was time to wear the same shirt for 3 days in a row and eat off the ground without a care in the world. I’d never felt so in-tune with nature. Thousands of trees were surrounding me, filling up my lungs with fresh oxygen. But alas it was only for one week. You see, these camps are what you’d call mucho-expensive. It was riveting week of fun, experiences, myself, and nature. I wanted to stay another week so badly. But now at least I can call myself a camp kid.

Thoughts now and things I recognize from the article:
I felt so insecure when I was at camp. It was my ego though, trying to grasp a hold of something because I was in a new boat with all of these strangers who didn’t know a thing about me. I didn’t want them to think I was a loser. I had always felt overshadowed by my other family members and it was one of the first times that I had something all to myself where I felt like an individual with others. They didn’t know my history (I live in a small town and extended family owns a restaurant.), personality (who am I supposed to be?), or anything which was a bit unnerving.
My father actually didn’t want me to stay when he saw the camp and later I found out it was because once he had spent a summer in something similar where he was bored out of his mind.
Yeah I would like to go again next year (though I may not because my father would like to go to China), and whatever experiences I feel, I may comment and tell you…. Next time I’m equipped with this knowledge so instead of struggling as much as last time, I’ll just let go