To Infinity and Beyond!

As I sit at my desk doodling on a notepad, I trace it over and over again. The smooth, round edges meeting at a crisp junction in the center of a perfectly symmetrical shape. The number is 8. I leave the country in 8 days. When I say that my heart flutters up to my head and my stomach sinks deep into my gut. After months of planning and working out details, I am about to embark on an exciting adventure. In eight days I will leave behind the little world I've known and venture into a world that is entirely unknown, and entirely new.

Am I excited? Absolutely.

Am I scared? Absolutely.

Do I know what I've gotten myself into? Absolutely not.

As I was tracing the number 8 on my notepad, thinking about all that I have yet to accomplish in the short time that I am still here, I noticed something. I turned the paper on its side, and there they were; symbol upon symbol upon symbol redirecting my focus.

This was the doodle I'd been working on:

And this was a reminder of the infinite possibilities that I'm facing in the next few months:
 

I realized that I've been focusing on the tiny, finite issues I have to deal with in the next few days, when I should be focused on the infinite that lies beyond this week. I have so much to learn this semester, and what I do or don't do the week before I leave for my trip is not going to make or break my experience (well, except for packing-but that is almost done).

I guess the main point I'm trying to drive home is this: I am worrying too much about what is going on this week. I'm traveling across the state, visiting friends, saying goodbye for a while, and making final arrangements for my travels to the ship. I am not worried about those things getting done-I know they will be done by the time I leave, but I really need to think less about this week, and spend more time mentally preparing myself for the new world I am about to jump into. As everyone's favorite laser-packing winged toy spaceman used to say, TO INFINITY, AND BEYOND!!!

T-minus 24 days

Well, it's Monday again which means I am yet another week closer to my departure on August 21st. My paperwork is basically finished as of this past weekend. My classes have been approved, my medical forms have been reviewed, my visas have been processed, and I've started packing. I may publish my finalized packing list eventually, but for now it is a work in progress and I seem to think of new things I should take every few minutes.

I'm just under four weeks away from departure (24 days 3 hours and 13 minutes), and I still cannot believe that I will soon be leaving the country for close to five months. Over the course of evaluating my packing list I have realized a few things:

1. I have more stuff than I really need.

For the past two years I lived on campus at school with a nice room of my own. My room was filled with cool lights, trendy art, adventure gear, and two closets full of clothes. While none of those things are inherently bad, the truth is that most of those things have been packed away in boxes for the past ten weeks, and I haven't missed them at all. As a matter of fact, my life has been way simpler now that most of my belongings are packed away in boxes. Aside from a few changes of clothes, a computer, phone, and camera, most of the things I pack up and take to school would be better left in a box. Hopefully this spartan mentality will prevail as I pack for my trip, but that will be another post entirely. What I do know is that when I get back from my trip I need to spend some serious time evaluating what I take back to school with me and what I don't need anymore.

2. The things I really need are not things I can pack into a suitcase.

I'm about to leave on a grand adventure around the Atlantic Ocean. I am being provided with an opportunity that very few have been blessed with and I could not be more thankful-but in the process I am coming to grips with all of the other ways I have been blessed as well. I have been blessed with family who are supporting me, mentors who have guided me, and friends who have invested in me. In 24 days 3 hours and 4 minutes (as of this moment) I am going to leave all of that behind to take on a new adventure. I'll be making new friend along the way, but in a sense I will be making this journey alone. My parents, friends, and mentors don't get to come with me-in fact the only piece of them that can travel across the ocean with me is the person I am because of them. My journey started long before I began putting clothes into a bag, but I am  just weeks away from having most of what I know stripped from me in a process that will force me to grow. Like a recent high school graduate approaching college, I am at a junction where I am grateful for the experiences of my past because of the unknown that dominates my future.

There are plenty of other thoughts swirling around in my head, but none are coherent enough for words just yet. I promise when the words come to me I'll put them here, so check back when you can!

24 days 2 hours and 55 minutes...

Changing Course

Looking over my previous blog posts it has become painfully obvious that I have not been as dedicated to this project as I initially thought I would be. Shocker. I like to document events and lessons learned, but in the months since I started this blog only a few things have been deemed exciting enough to qualify for, "blog-worthy status," explaining why my posts are few and far in between (laziness is another possible factor, but fixing that issue is too hard). Quite frankly, this blog had no focus when I started it. I aim to fix that starting now.
I find that I only want to write about exciting life lessons, and when I do write it tends to ramble quite a bit, so I'm going to take a new approach. As of now, I am going to document my adventure with succinct stories about what I've been doing and hopefully the lessons and adventures will trickle through.
In exactly one month, I will be traveling to London, UK where I will board the 590-foot MV Explorer, an ocean liner managed by the Institute for Shipboard Education. Over the course of 4 months I will travel to 18 ports in 16 countries on four continents while taking classes on board the ship. Most of the tedious paperwork for my voyage has been completed, and my plane tickets have been purchased. Now it is time to start packing and thinking through exactly what I will need on my trip around the world. It hasn't really sunk in yet that I am leaving the country for such an extended period of time, but I know as soon as I start putting notebooks and socks into my suitcase it is going to hit me like a ton of bricks.
I'll use this blog to post updates about what I've been up to and where I am in my journey. Follow me or check back often to see what I'm up to!

That Cold Night in Queens

   It was a Thursday night in late November of 2012. I was sitting alone on a stump in a dark church courtyard. Police cars roamed the streets around me with their blues flashing; trying to provide citizens with some sense of security. The neighborhood was in a constant state of emergency, as it had been for nearly a month now. It had only been dark for an hour or so but the streets were completely abandoned. Across the street from the church a pair of shattered shop windows seemed to stare at me like dark empty eyes. I poked at the last of my Thanksgiving dinner–a few undercooked green beans–with a disposable fork and sipped the last water from my cup. I zipped up my jacket as a cold wind blew through the empty courtyard and turned to head back into the old church, but for a moment I paused and looked around.
    In my entire life, I have never been more thankful than I was in that moment, and here is why. On that cold Thanksgiving night in 2012 I was in Queens, New York. One month earlier Super-storm Sandy had wrecked hundreds of communities along the East Coast. Somehow I found myself on a last-minute trip to help provide relief where it was needed most. A van full of students from App State drove all day Wednesday to a small community called Far Rockaway to help residents in low-income communities with reconstruction efforts. In the overall scheme of recovery, a van full of students armed with gloves and hammers couldn't accomplish much in three days, but given one or two houses to help out with we were able to accomplish a great deal.
   Lots of great memories were made on that trip–some happy and some heart-wrenchingly sad. But among the others one memory stood out–the memory I have of sitting alone in the cold that Thursday night. It stands out to me because I took the time to reflect on the ways I have been blessed in my life. I have a warm home to spend cold nights in, a roof that doesn't leak, and walls that are not moldy. I have a family who loves me, and friends I can turn to when things get tough.
   On that cold Thanksgiving night, surrounded by people who didn't have much, I realized just how much I had to be thankful for. No matter how tough school gets, or how much I worry about what I'll be doing next year after graduation, at least I was given the chance to go to school. What I am trying to say is–as frustrating as it can be, my life is so remarkably blessed. I get upset when one or two things go wrong, but there are other blessings that I often take for granted because they worked out so perfectly. This week I am working on being more thankful, and I continue to mentally revisit that cold night in Queens when I realized how much I really have been given.

The iGeneration.

I wrote out a long essay on technology a few days ago. I picked it up again today and decided to start from scratch, because the whole thing was really just an overzealous manifesto railing on everyone born in the early 90's, and I figured that wasn't the best kind of blog post to make. I am no better or worse than anyone else in my generation where this topic is concerned. In all honesty, this post is partially an observation and partially a way for me to obtain useful, practical advice by crowd–sourcing (that last term just lost a few of you-I know and I am sorry).
I often wonder how previous generations were viewed in their early 20's. What kind of messages did their older, wiser mentors give them, and how did that work out? Have the messages changed over the years, or just the context? Is rock and roll still just for satan-worshippers, or has that belief faded a bit? Sometimes I feel like half of the older adults I know view mine as a generation's worth of potential wasted staring at screens. Maybe they are on to something. Then again, maybe not.
My generation has been named the millennial generation, but I jokingly refer to it as the "iGeneration." We are characterized by 4G data plans that cater to even the most insatiable among us and phones with more computing power than the spacecraft that put mankind on the moon. Between selfies and snapchat, skype and social media, somewhere along the way we forgot a lot of the things that makes us who we are.
What I mean by this is that social media and technology allow us to filter our lives in a way that is detrimental to our interpersonal relationships. I only post happy things on my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram. If I think of a witty joke or a relatable experience I upload it and then measure the success of each post by the number of likes that it gets or by who comments on it. I don't share sad experiences online. Nobody wants to log into Twitter to see my sad tweets about how my life is hard and I am so busy and, and, and... We leave behind parts of who we are when we enter a virtual network. I run my own PR, deciding what my internet friends get to see and what I choose to leave out.  The people who do post sad, dramatic or otherwise melancholy material to Facebook garner little attention from those around them. Why on earth would I post something that isn't going to make me look good? That would be ridiculous. No matter what I say, I am sure that the efficacy of this blog post will be measured by the amount of buzz it generates. I want to change that.

I've made an effort recently to take a step back from the screen. Facebook isn't on my phone, so that is a start. I always try to keep in mind some practical strategy for being productive. The question lately has been "What is the most effective use of my time at present?" Sometimes the answer is homework. Or sleeping. Or reading a book. Rarely is the answer checking Facebook. Again.
So what is it about the current atmosphere that prevents people from connecting with either other? This is a complex issue, but I think a part of it can be simplified quite easily. I want to offer a very simple explanation, but feel free to disagree with me if you want. I think that nobody wants messed up friends. The problem is that until 5 years ago, you really didn't have a choice. Your friends were just as messed up as you were, and you got to be closer by dealing with things together. Whether it was a break-up or a lost job, etc, your friends were there for you. In person, dealing with the same crap that you were dealing with. In fact, the show 'Friends' was just that–a group of young people going through life together, struggling through everything that young people had to deal with in the 90's. Today it is just as easy (if not easier) to get online and see only the well-manicured snapshots your friends want you to see.
I am terrible at this. I really am. I'm the guy who blogs about his problems with technology–if that isn't ironic then I don't know what is. I want to do better and be better. I want to use technology to its fullest potential without losing an ounce of mine in the process. I know this issue is far more complex than I made it out to be, and I apologize, but I had to say something about this. If you disagree with what I've written or want to add something feel free to let me know–I'd love to sit down over coffee with you.

How to explain the unexplainable.

        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

The Rest of my vocabulary...

   This is the first of many posts to come. Hopefully they'll be on a regular basis, but I can't make any promises.

    Today is Monday, and because of that I'd like to dedicate this post to a topic I know all too well: Busy-ness. As a college student I am constantly trying to add items to my schedule that will make my life (or my resume) better in some way. Whether it is squeezing in extra time at the gym, lunch with friends, or one more episode of Arrested Development, I find that I never have enough of anything in my life. Or at least that is what I tell myself.
    This past week was an odd one. I was busy with a hyper-packed schedule on Monday and Tuesday, and on Wednesday it started to snow. My only Wednesday class was cancelled, as were all of my Thursday classes. The university actually closed, so I couldn't even get work done if I wanted to. I have no Friday classes, but the university was open Friday so I had a mildly productive day.
Last week I saw two extremes of activity at play, and it got me thinking. During the earlier part of the week I was in the fast lane, knocking down tasks and moving on to the next item on my list, but once the university closed on Wednesday, I had nothing to do. With no classes to worry about for several days, I sunk into a state of complete and utter indifference. I woke up late Thursday, spent a couple hours in the snow with friends, and then dedicated the rest of my afternoon/evening to Netflix.

    My day Thursday was filled with a general state of apathy that many students tend to think of as rest. Sleep in late, do only what you want to do, and then end the day nodding off to an episode of Scandal on a futon guaranteed to give you back problems. Don't worry about the assignments and meetings, they'll all still be there when the snow melts. I have nothing against sleeping in, or playing in the snow, or even Scandal (Kerry Washington is among my Top 5 of God's creations), but to think that my Thursday was a "restful day" would be a mistake. It wouldn't be a blog post if I didn't disagree with some generally held belief shared among my peers, now would it?

    As college students, we really know how to make ourselves busy. There is always a concert/class/club meeting/worship night/bowling night/dance/party to fill up our time, to say nothing of exercise, eating, sleeping, and homework. We tend to view activities as either "required" or "enjoyable" and if we are lucky we can combine them and be productive and entertain ourselves at the same time. We may even measure our success by comparing the number of fun things we do versus the number of required things we have to do. For some of us, value is found in packing the schedule tight with so many required things that we feel important, leaving no wiggle room for coffee or a late bus or catching up with a friend in the hall. I myself am guilty of this. For others, success is found in filling the schedule with fun exciting adventures. How many parties can I hit this weekend? Can I make it out to the slopes Sunday for a few hours before I have to get back to school on Monday? Do I have time to rock climb in the gym between classes? I am guilty of this as well.

    The point I am trying to drive home is this: we college students have an abundance of things we can pile onto our plate, and most of us try everything at least once. But I want to redirect your focus, even just for a few minutes, to this thought: When was the last time you rested?
I'm not going to use a big R, or come up with an acronym for the word, mostly because despite writing a blog post about rest, I have a lot to get done today.
Rest implies an effect, not an action. Rest implies that you are recharged and ready to go on to the next project. Rest implies that you have processed your previous activity; that you have healed or grown from the stress it put on you. I fall asleep on my couch with my face in a textbook more often than I'd like to admit. I don't rest, I drift into sleep thinking of what I didn't get done that remains to be done tomorrow.
    In Psalm 46, David writes that though the mountains fall into the sea, and thought the waters roar and foam, God is our refuge. We have a safe place to turn, and it is one which I know personally I neglect far too often. David writes, "Be still, and know that I am God,"but I find that hard to do. I'm a sleep-when-you-are-dead kind of guy, but the Lord is saying here that we've been called to rest in him.
    CS Lewis writes in Screwtape that two tools of God's glory are Music and Silence, but that the world as it is now remains in the "Kingdom of Noise."

    I need help clearing noise from my life, and I'm sure I am not the only one. This doesn't mean I'm going to do nothing to be productive-quite the contrary. In fact, by truly resting and reflecting on that will of God in my life, it is my hope that my efforts will be more focused, more intentional, and more effective.
   I started this blog as a simple way to be intentional with my thoughts. Reflection is a necessary part of rest. Understanding what God is doing and where you fit into all of it is crucial for believers, and that cannot happen if you are charging blindly forward trying to be effective by yourself.

If you read this far, congratulations. I apologize, but the first post was bound to be a little long anyways.
Check out this link I discovered a few years back: The Quiet Place

I hope you have a restful, productive, and intentional Monday.

–Cam