For those of you who lack attention spans or have issues with my usage of curse words in bold print, here's what I essentially had to say in the past: when everything is going right somewhere, but then you have to go home, you start doubting whether you can have that same happiness you had again. I talked about how much I feared all of my friends disappearing due to graduation, distance, or just a gradual falling by the wayside due to lack of interest. I had no answer to the issues I presented other than repeated profanity and one rather unhelpful statement.
"Just don't think about it."
I mean, hey, that ain't bad, right? Ignorance is bliss? Don't worry, be happy? #turnup?
Well, you are going to have to think about it at some point, and achieving ignorance is not always an easy thing to do. So, let's get some freaking answers today.
Back in the last entry on this topic, I talked about Happening, an Episcopal youth retreat designed to be a mountaintop experience to its guests. Having first gone as a guest last year and serving on staff at the next two Happenings (and hopefully at least one or two more, pending my application and the call from the rector... Claire, if you're reading this, no pressure). Anyone else who had been to Happening would get where I'm coming from, but that doesn't necessarily amount to a large number of people. This time around, I want to talk about another mountaintop that I just had to climb down this week.
A more relatable and easier-to-describe mountaintop would be in the realm of theater (or, "theatre" for thesnobbier more refined person, but it's the same anyway). When you're doing a kickass play for a long time with such an awesome cast, you immediately begin to suffer withdrawals (and not "withdraws," as my peers seem more inclined to say. Please stop saying "withdraws," guys). Even those in the filthy plebeian non-acting crowd should be able to relate to this phenomenon.
I was just in one of these shows, of course, and it's pretty clear that the majority of the cast is feeling the pain of separation right now. Aida. An old Verdi opera that Elton John and Tim Rice adapted for Broadway, and that School District 5 managed to land the rights to. Man, that was a ton of fun. Everyone got into it, emotions ran high, and the crowd loved every minute of every show. There's so much I could say about it, and I'll be damned if I don't talk about it again in the future.
Now its over, and as the Edmodo group stays alive and very active, a lot of folks still haven't adapted to the change. (Side note: For those of you who aren't familiar with Edmodo, it has been championed by teachers as "Facebook for schools," obviously because they think that teens need a new gathering place after old folks like them started bogarting Facebook. Probably). No one wanted it to end.
So, how do we live in the valley after coming down from the mountain? Well, there will always be chances to reunite with people who shared the mountaintop experience. You can't see them all the time like the past, but if they had an impact, then they should remain in your heart. Focus on how your experience has shaped you as a person, and use your experiences to continue a better life. It's trite as hell to say, but all good things must come to an end. And I've found that good experiences are hard to leave at first, but once you're traveling down the highway, you don't need to look back. No fright or hindsight, leaving behind that empty feeling inside.
If you long for the past and have doubts about the future, "just don't think about it" is not a useful directive. At some point, worrying will cease, but you don't have to erase the memory from your mind. I've found that mountaintop experiences return to me in fulfilling flashbacks (and, believe me, I've been on a lot of mountaintops in the recent past). Even if you don't stay in contact with your friends from the mountain 24/7, there can still be other ways to be have a satisfied mind.
To close out, just remember to keep doing what makes you happy. And in remembering the people on the mountain, recall the "spirit is always burning though the flesh is torn apart." This may not have been the most thorough response, but it's what I got for now.
Mornin' Hays, signing off. Aida lives on.
A more relatable and easier-to-describe mountaintop would be in the realm of theater (or, "theatre" for the
I was just in one of these shows, of course, and it's pretty clear that the majority of the cast is feeling the pain of separation right now. Aida. An old Verdi opera that Elton John and Tim Rice adapted for Broadway, and that School District 5 managed to land the rights to. Man, that was a ton of fun. Everyone got into it, emotions ran high, and the crowd loved every minute of every show. There's so much I could say about it, and I'll be damned if I don't talk about it again in the future.
Now its over, and as the Edmodo group stays alive and very active, a lot of folks still haven't adapted to the change. (Side note: For those of you who aren't familiar with Edmodo, it has been championed by teachers as "Facebook for schools," obviously because they think that teens need a new gathering place after old folks like them started bogarting Facebook. Probably). No one wanted it to end.
So, how do we live in the valley after coming down from the mountain? Well, there will always be chances to reunite with people who shared the mountaintop experience. You can't see them all the time like the past, but if they had an impact, then they should remain in your heart. Focus on how your experience has shaped you as a person, and use your experiences to continue a better life. It's trite as hell to say, but all good things must come to an end. And I've found that good experiences are hard to leave at first, but once you're traveling down the highway, you don't need to look back. No fright or hindsight, leaving behind that empty feeling inside.
If you long for the past and have doubts about the future, "just don't think about it" is not a useful directive. At some point, worrying will cease, but you don't have to erase the memory from your mind. I've found that mountaintop experiences return to me in fulfilling flashbacks (and, believe me, I've been on a lot of mountaintops in the recent past). Even if you don't stay in contact with your friends from the mountain 24/7, there can still be other ways to be have a satisfied mind.
To close out, just remember to keep doing what makes you happy. And in remembering the people on the mountain, recall the "spirit is always burning though the flesh is torn apart." This may not have been the most thorough response, but it's what I got for now.
Mornin' Hays, signing off. Aida lives on.
No comments:
Post a Comment