So, this weekend I was at Happening #71 at Camp Gravatt (or, Gravatt Conference Center, but it's the same thing in the end). Happening is a "mountaintop experience" weekend for high school youth (particularly of the Episcopal denomination, but we welcome all). I got to be on music staff, rockin', rollin', praisin' the Lord and whatnot. That was fun and refreshing, indeed, and the other guests at the event surely would agree.
It was also nice to turn off my phone for the duration of the event from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon, as I got more time to concentrate on the beautiful facilities around me and to do some writing. Or, by writing I mean that I grabbed an old memo pad and started jotting down non sequitur thoughts in as small handwriting as possible. I concluded that this form of short, impulsive-thought based writing to myself was just a surrogate for Twitter (which I have now gone without for almost two weeks). Yeah, it was kinda weird, all my friends who gave me curious glances as I jotted away on the memo pad will be pleased to know that I planned on adapting most of those thoughts into blog posts. And I am doing that now.
So, as a lot of you who have read previous posts might recall, a big motif for my Lenten venture is relationships with other human beings. Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe that other people exist. This is especially true at events like Happening, which throws you into a crowd of complete strangers that become close friends through your mutual experience. An experience that few others can understand. But I digress.
People who go through Happening almost always face concerns about leaving the "mountaintop" and life not being quite the same back at home. After all, home doesn't always have Gravatt Squares. But there is a real concern about leaving the close friends that guests have formed within a matter of days, who they open up to and feel such a strong, unspoken bond.
As much as I would hate to bring up something so negative about an event that has changed the lives of thousands of youth for decades, including myself, this is a topic that intrigues me. People we know, coming and going, even as we hope to know them forever. Last night's How I Met Your Mother also addressed this topic (a show that I have dearly loved and will be very sad to see conclude in two weeks. Again, this is a motif that intrigues me). It all kind of makes ya think, don't it? More specifically, it makes you think this:
I might not see any of these people I know again. HOLY SHIT WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
It really is a hard thought, and I've been holding it in my mind for quite a while. This is mostly due to the large quantity of close comrades I have who are seniors, and I will have to cope with their increasing absence from my life. However, it also becomes very real and, frankly, quite frightening when I consider that I'm about a year and a half away from having to start again myself. Even more folks will fade away from my life, going in completely different directions that I can't stray from my current path to follow.
I want to be able to say that I have an answer to this fear. I have been able to come out of other blog posts with answers, but I cannot give a resolution to this one. This is something that I cannot change, this is something the people I know cannot change, and this is something that you cannot change in your own life. And it ruttin' hurts to think about it.
It sucks hard because you want to try and do as much as you can for others when you realize that you have such a limited amount of time with the people around you before they vanish from your life, but you can't seem to make time or effort, or even your best feels unsatisfactory.
There are sudden pangs you have where you begin feeling this early, as if everyone is already gone. It's just an impulse, typically fueled by rage caused by, say... frustratingly attempting to complete unfinished work in the wee hours of the morning, but you can't help but remember it.
It attacks in so many ways. There's no sole point of entry of these feelings into your mind. And I want to say "seize the moment you have now," but, again, how can you do that when you barely find yourself able to reach out to others in your own hectic life (and to an extent, your self-absorption). You even begin to question whether you truly matter to these other people who you consider friends-on-a-timer.
Holy. Shit.
So, as you can see, my brain works in a funny way while jotting down on a notepad. It can actually be quite cynical. I am not the only person who has had paranoia like this, and I expect that a few people who read this will sympathize. I won't try and answer these concerns, but I will express some optimism. I mean, I've gotten to talk to a few people I hadn't in a long time, and I think shit is actually going pretty well for me at home, as a whole. And, I have to admit, even as superficial and vice-forming as they may seem, social media has lessened that burden, albeit by a small amount. And, if nothing else, we can always hope to find new people as the old ones fade away.
I guess there is only one answer I have now:
Don't even think about it.
It's mostly angst anyway, right?
Mornin' Hays, signing off. Especially because Mornin' Hays has to start signing onto doing some deferred Pre-calculus homework.
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