I thinks it’s easy to go online and see beautiful pictures of perfect people on mountain tops. Or hear stories of couples going on grand adventures. I think almost everyone wants an adventure in one way or another. I am one of those people. Or so I thought.
I just got back from Adventure Kamp. I flew a plane, went scuba diving, rappelled kids off a 300 foot bluff, taught countless survival classes, built a water proof shelter out of sticks, leaves and vine, killed, cleaned, and cooked a rabbit, hiked in rain, sun, cold, and hot, found my way with a compass, prepared devos and tried my best to counsel the great kids I had, slept in a hammock 33 nights of the summer, saw the milky way, watched 35 shooting stars during my fire watch at 2 in the morning, and killed a copper head. Six hours of sleep a night, cooking, taking photo and video, driving, teaching, and counseling. It a summer of firsts. First time in a small plane. First time cliff bluffing. First time being a counselor. First time navigating an airport. First time camping. First time backpacking.
And yet, it all felt very unspectacular. It wasn’t that it was because it was my job or that I was overtired (although both would have been true). No, it was something else. How could I go on such wonderful adventures and it feel so ordinary? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had the wrong idea about what adventure meant.
~an unusual and exciting experience or activity~
~to engage in hazardous and exciting activity, especially the exploration of unknown territory~
After this summer I realized I could go everywhere, do everything, learn everything, be everything I wanted to be, but still be empty. This summer, I went on journey. An exploration. And what I discovered? I really need community. People to experience life with. People to share struggles with. People to take in a moment with. To laugh with and cry with. The more I thought about it, I’ve had adventure upon adventure washing dishes with my small group back home. Or explore my home town with my besties.
Yes, I long for adventure, but even deeper than that, I long for connection. And I’d rather share a mundane life with people than have the grandest of adventures alone. I hope to make life my adventure. No matter where I am or what I’m doing. So here’s to life. And here’s to loving people.
Spring break was absolutely amazing for the sole reason that I didn’t have to go to school. I got a break from the drudgery of lectures and a butt ton of work. I never had to set my alarm. It was amazing. Of course, going down to St. Louis to visit my sister and bro-in-law was also a delight. One of the things I was most looking forward to over this particular trip to St. Louie was a visit to the Thaxton, a speakeasy downtown complete with 1920’s decor, a live band, back alley entrance, and a good time. Or so I’m told. Nowhere on the website did it say 21 or older, nor had my sister and her husband ever been carded when they went. But when we all went, there was a different doorkeeper, and he asked for IDs. Thanks Mr. Doorman. I just want to dance. All dressed up and nowhere to go. So we all journeyed back to the much smaller St. Charles where my sister resides and went to a coffee bar for a late open-mic night.
