I just got back from my annual trip to Pennsylvania, and I am going to try to blog about it. I apologize to anyone who reads this and has absolutely no idea what is going on. I understand that may happen, but for just a few of you it will mean a great deal more.
I don't know how this is going to go– this post may turn into one long rant, or it may be broken up into several posts, or it may be just a few sentences–I have no idea yet. What I do know is that there is so much I want to say, but so little of it can be interpreted into words. Usually words are capable of sufficiently saying exactly what I want said, but occasionally they fall short and I know with certainty that each year as I return from this annual trip my words will undoubtedly fail. I'm not a bad writer, but to think I could fully convey in words what this recent trip and those like it have meant to me would be like thinking that my ability to swim could get me across the ocean.
I'll explain the context of my trip in a moment, but first I want to offer a little advice on something that I struggle with often. I struggle to learn. Not in an academic manner, but in my personal life. It is much more comfortable to rest on the minuscule cushion of wisdom I've acquired over my two short decades than it is to challenge myself in thought, and it is for that reason that I often fail to do so. I want to be a better learner. Whether scribbled on a spare napkin on the plane ride home or typed out neatly in a blog post, sometimes you learn lessons that you have to write down and share. They are not written so that others will learn them, for many lessons can only be learned by experience, but we write them down so that if ever we fall, if ever we stumble along the way to who we've decided we want to be, if ever we lose sight of what matters to us–we can look back, see the lighthouse we've built, and know that there are things about ourselves of which we are certain, and those certainties remain when all else is awash in the tide. I did say that we must share our lessons with others, and there is much I could and likely will say about accountability and friendship, but I'm trying to keep this post short. Right now I just say that in my experience, it is far better to share in frustrations and triumphs with others than to endure either alone.
I will not try to explain everything that I've learned or experienced on my annual trip in a single post, for to do so would use up the rest of my night and would most definitely begin to ramble. I will however describe in a very general sense the nature of my trip to Philadelphia and the impact it has on me year after year.
In 2011 I was a senior in high school, nearing the end of my time at home. I'd chosen a university to attend, and in the process of applying for various scholarships I ran across an organization called the Washington Crossing Foundation. The WCF scholarship was designed for students who have chosen to dedicate their careers to public service. After going through the application process I was informed that I'd been selected to receive one of the WCF scholarships, and that the folks from the foundation wanted me to attend an awards ceremony in Bristol, Pennsylvania. I was a little puzzled and had absolutely no idea what I'd gotten myself into, but I agreed to travel to the awards ceremony. In April of 2011 I jumped on a plane and traveled to a city I'd never been to before to be picked up by someone I'd never met. I expected to spend the weekend with a group of strangers, but two days later when I stepped back on a plane, I was a completely different person and I had a new family. In two short days I made friends with some of the most accomplished individuals I've ever known, and somehow I was allowed to join the ranks of WCF scholars, each of whom desire to change the world in one way or another.
This is where my words begin to fail me and I apologize for their shortcomings, but the bonds that I formed at Washington Crossing Foundation that first year and in the years since could never be done justice by any language known to man, and to try would be a crime. It is almost exam week here at Appalachian State and I have a great deal to do, but I had to spend a few more minutes in reflection before I dive back into the din of crunch week. In the series of posts following this one I hope to enumerate the lessons I've learned about the world and myself from the folks at the Washington Crossing Foundation.
This post will continue in spirit at a later date, but in closing I want to say this: In April of 2011 I was introduced to a group of people I know will change the world–and I know they can because of the way that they changed my world when I met them. Simply put, each April when I visit my friends at Washington Crossing my focus is drawn back to who I am, and who I want to be. Once a year, in the company of dear friends, I am provided with the remarkable opportunity to deliberately shore up the foundations of the lighthouse I started building years ago when we first met.
Carpe Diem.
Cam
