I wrote a post after camp last summer about answering the question “how was camp?” I wrote about how impossible of a question that was to answer; I wrote about how the response could not be given in casual conversation and it pained me to continue into anything less than a heartfelt dialogue.
I’ve often been told that I possess a sort of “all-or-nothing” disposition… from silly things like editing the same paper upwards of five times to getting sick with never just one malady at a time (gotta get them all out of the way at once) to buying the entirety of a favorite author’s works, to writing blog posts that are far too long. It’s a blessing and a curse; it’s something I love about myself and it’s the thing that burns me out. It’s my greatest pride and my greatest fear. It’s what excites me about knowing that there are endless opportunities to understand new cultures and communities, to speak new languages, and to interact with people from all over the world who can open my mind and heart. But it limits me because I cannot be at peace unless I am moving, seeing, doing, giving, and receiving. I want more than anything to be out there, learning from the world and its people, but there is a college degree waiting for me and without it, I will not be as free as I wish to be. Continue reading
We are reminded that change is good – it means growth, renewal, and at least for me, a chance to have an unscripted adventure in my otherwise hyper organized life.
There were many changes this year – a change in venue, in the enlarged coaching staff, the combination of summer and training camp running simultaneously, to name a few. I miss the 3x a day hummus from Manof, but love the extensive field space and pool at Kfar Silver. Really can’t beat strolling over to your very own pool on these hot afternoons! Continue reading
I found a seashell in my bed the other day. You can tell it’s old – all of the edges are worn away and its ridges are smooth. I picked it up to try to figure out where it came from, and my room faded into the backdrop as I remembered sitting on the grainy beach with eight other ultimate peace coaches for our end of the year celebration. The waves are tumbling and the wind is harsher than a breeze but not so violent as to disturb the cups and snacks littered across our picnic table. I can’t hear anything in my foggy memory, but I see collective laughter, a few tears of gratitude. Continue reading
What an extraordinarily complicated and emotional summer it has been thus far. Below is our story from this dramatic camp season and a bit about how we are dealing with the current upheaval in the Middle East.
Due to the 30 days of Ramadan coming early this summer, we had to conclude both sessions of our camp by June 28th. This forced us to schedule the camps to occur right after school in the Middle East ended, and to run them concurrently. We also had to find a new camp site to accommodate the amount of campers and staff. As it happened, we discovered the perfect place, Kfar Silver, an absolutely great fit for Camp UP. Multiple fields with lights, our own pool, a huge gym, nice dormitories, all on a private lush school campus vacated for the summer. Its location, Ashkelon, was a concern from the outset, being 8 miles from Gaza, but we hoped tension would not rise in the region around camp time. We were in for a surprise. Continue reading
I’m back in the US now, sitting at JFK, and still not sure what I’m feeling about the last 10 days. I have mixed emotions – maybe it’s the exhaustion setting in. I’m watching the airport wake up, people rushing from one flight to another. Then I look at my watch and it’s lunchtime now. Coaches are all hot and sweaty after a great morning practice, ready for food, rest hour, then the pool. I am definitely in another world right now and I’m not sure I fit in here.
I’ve never quite felt like this coming back from a trip or at the end of a summer camp. I was a counselor for two summers at day camps. While there were moments of amazement, it does not come close to what I experienced over the last 10 days. Continue reading