Like a spring uncoils, like cold water boils

The small group leaders played a game of volleyball in our sand volleyball pit. There was dance music blasting on a stereo system (MGMT, Killers, Vampire Weekend, Beyonce, etc). We were half-dancing, half-playing; the sun was shining. Small children were running around. The people were all my friends, laughing and yelling and having a great time.

I was absurdly happy;  it felt like a dream. And this is what camp is like all the time, in different ways. It makes me hate how serious I am during the year.

I’m not like I am at the ranch back in the real world. This isn’t because I try to be different; I’m not trying to have a split personality, or hide anything from anyone. But the freedom of spirit afforded by the ranch does not translate to the real world very well.

Or maybe it does, and I just let the vagaries of the world drag down my spirit in the real world. I throw them off at the Ranch, because I say that’s what I want to do. So maybe I should look harder into throwing off the trappings of this world, that so easily entangle (as Hebrews would say).

I feel like a spring uncoiling; I feel like a shell is breaking. I have so much to process; I have so much to break through. I hope that I don’t just go back to how I was when I leave. I’m going to have to work on keeping this that I have here while I am there.

The first of many revealations, I hope.