Camp Introspection
As a kid, I used to go to summer camp for a week every year. I loved it. I got to hang out with my friends and spend time in nature. We had campfires, told stories, had a talent show, put on skits, hiked, went swimming in a lake, did arts and crafts, fun activities, and usually ended the week with a dance. So, when I heard there was a summer camp for adults, I was super jazzed and had to go!
Last summer, before camp, I was in a really bad place. I was living in a very tiny apartment that cost way too much for me and was a 45-minute drive away from work. I hadn’t been doing much acting, and I was still getting over a broken relationship. The timing was perfect to get away, out into nature and try to re-center myself. I counted down the days and was raring to go.
The camp specialized in “digital detox”, getting people off their phones and computers, and interacting with others and nature in real life. We didn’t have watches, and only used money in the sense that we gave our names at the store and got charged afterward. The camp was super crowded, I think roughly 400 people, including all the counselors. It also offered a ton of activities throughout the long weekend, plus a dance and color wars.
As I mentioned, I was in a bad head space. I had gotten into the habit of staying out and keeping super busy because I didn’t like spending time in my closet-sized apartment. I ran myself into the ground to not have to think or deal with residual emotions from the break-up. And, unfortunately, I took that tactic into camp with me.
At camp, we were free to roam the grounds as we wanted. We could partake in any of the activities they offered, or none at all. They had active events and more introspective events. A creature of habit, I signed up for everything active I could - archery, capoeira, the color wars, tai chi, and even a morning workout. I ended up neglecting the part of myself that needed a break. The part that needed nurturing. I now regret not taking a step out of my comfort zone and going to the cuddling teepee, or the one-on-ones with a counselor, or laughing yoga. I needed quiet time to recharge and refocus, but I didn’t realize that until it was too late.
Being burnt out makes me more of an introvert, and while I was able to talk to people, I was pretty much on my own the entire weekend. I would talk to people at activities or dinner, but I was solo for the rest of the time. I found myself writing letters to my friends at home, building puzzles, or reading in the grass. But I really wasn’t okay with that. I was just trying to keep myself occupied so I didn't have to face myself. My soul needed nourishment, and I didn’t seek it out. Amidst so many people, I have never felt more alone.
On the last night, there was a silent dinner. We all dressed in white and ate as a group sitting on the grass. Then, we were encouraged to walk the grounds silently until it was time to meet up as a group again and go to the dance. The silent dinner was my favorite part of the camp. I didn’t feel like I had to push myself into being sociable. I wasn’t distracted by any activity. I was quiet. And present. And I felt in myself what I really needed. I needed peace and nature. By the time the dance started, I realized that I wasn’t up to going, and that was okay. After giving the dance a once-through, I went back to our cabin and wrote a bit more. If I remember correctly, I also roamed around and talked to a few people, getting some hot chocolate from the store. I went to bed when my body was tired and didn’t try to push myself farther than I was able to go at that time. Usually, I’d feel bad about not going to something, but I really needed the space to be alone.
The next day, I was ready to leave. I was anxious to sleep in a warm bed and focus more on my own well-being. I was excited to give my true friends big hugs when I got home. I was ready for a thorough shower.
We had mail boxes set up for us during our stay, and when I went to pick mine up to go home, I saw someone had left me a necklace. It was a shrinky-dink of a colorful capybara. My "name" during camp (we didn't use our real ones) was "Noble Capybara". A cabin-mate of mine apparently told someone at her activity about my name, and then that complete stranger made me a lovely necklace just because she liked capybaras too! I was thoroughly moved (I admit I might have cried), and I still keep it safe and sound with my other jewelry, what little there is.
While I waited for my parents to pick me up, I sat on a swing out by the parking lot and watched everyone leaving. A random guy came over and started gently pushing me on the swing. We chatted about our experiences at camp, what activities we did, how we felt and only a little about what we were going home to. This was the best experience of the weekend. Just really talking to someone and connecting with them. During our 20-minute chat, he never once stopped pushing me on the swing. And since we didn’t use them, I’ll never know his real name. But that moment of being open and vulnerable with someone, especially one I’d never met, was just what I needed after all that sadness and introspection.
Although I wouldn’t say I had a “good” or “fun” time, I don’t regret going to camp at all. I was able to point out the broken parts of me and find out what I needed to do to repair them. However painful, it helped me realize what I could do better for myself when I got back to the real world. And the surprise necklace and making such a connection with that guy pushing me on the swing made up for feeling so lonely the rest of the weekend. Because that’s the whole point. To connect with other people, but most importantly yourself.
