Camp, not just for the kids.

This year marks year five for me.
Year five as a volunteer for March Break Camp, that is.

For those of you who don't know, March Break Camp is a camp run here in Brantford over the course of march break - appropriately named, right? Starting on the 10th of March this year, we will be celebrating reaching a decade! So for the last 9 years, cumulatively over 21 churches have come together to host a day camp for Brantford's at risk child population - always looking for another way to bless family after family. 

We play games.
We sing songs.
We dance.
We learn. 
We laugh, lots. 
We have fun.

At MBC, we teach kids 5 simple lessons: who God is, that they're created,  forgiven, priceless, and loved. Now, as a camp counselor, workshop leader, workshop helper, photographer, wide game leader, one would think that those would be simple lessons for you to understand as well.. however, that bold one there on the end wasn't for me. 

That simple lesson, more specifically, that I was lovable, was one of the hardest I myself have ever had to learn. I would conveniently be busy for the first 3 years of my camp life, and would 'miss' the lesson that we would teach these kids that they, in all their imperfection, are perfectly lovable. 
But, you see the thing is, working in a camp, where all you get to do for 5 days is show love to kids who may not otherwise know what that word is even supposed to mean, it makes you think about what it means to you. 

For what seemed like eternity, I would try to expel the words from my lips but they gagged me like a rope tied far too tightly by a well-seasoned boy scout leader. I would open my mouth, time after time, trying to prove that I could speak those three simple words. "I" rolled off my tongue like it would as a precursor to any other statement; I like ice cream but I prefer mint chocolate chip. The "am" would sometimes come out almost just a smoothly, however the threat of the power from the word that came next impeded it like a gun to a hostage's escape. The next and final word unlike the first would stay hidden in the depths of my vocabulary unless it was being applied to those very kids I was working with, and puppies, and cheesecake, and just about everyone and everything else on earth but me. 
To save some time from this story, know that now, I can say it. If you want to know what happened in the in between, ask me some other time - I'd love to explain.

The point of this all is to tell you that MBC, it's not just another camp. It's not just about being a place kids get to be kids and experience a bunch of things that they otherwise wouldn't get to: It's not just about a movie. Or a trip to Moose Winooski's. It's not even about the stuff they learn in the workshops. Or the fun songs we get to sing and dance to.
It's about love. And it's about changing lives... and not just the campers', it'll change yours too if you let it.

Trust me, I know.
-Indigo.

YOLO; it's going to be okay.

For months now I have been writing and erasing, typing and deleting, word after word...after word. I have been saving drafts that consist of nothing more than an idea and three sentences that provided the illusion that I was about to rant some sort of delirious wisdom. Nothing however, has been finished.
Who would've thought that in a world filled with not only tireless news feeds but a corresponding real life outside, that I, Alyssa, the girl who never shuts up, would have had nothing to say.
 Once upon a time I was told I had a way with words; that because I wrote the way I spoke, just a few dozen kilometers slower with a side order of eloquent diction that meant I should do it more.
That 'my unique outlook was refreshing'... Listen I understand that my generation consists of one part washed up leftovers of our parents fallen dreams who spend too much time on the computer, and another two parts made up relentless, unapologetic dreamers who vowed when they were 11 that they would change the world one day and the last part consists of everyone else that really has no idea what they are or where they're going.. That last part is like the overarching definition of the whole, but I digress..

Now, me personally, I like to think that I fit somewhere in the middle of the last two parts.

I decided at some point in the last ten years, somewhere, likely late at night that I wanted my life to make a difference. I looked around me, took a deep breath and realized that the life I wanted to live, the life I wanted to make it to the end of and bear a proud smile as I took my last breath, that that life.. It wasn't the one I was headed for.
Now, I'd like to tell you that at that very moment I realized that I had all the potential in the world and I decided that from then onward I would work my ass off and make every bead of sweat I shed in the process count... But that would be lying. This is where the last part there comes in; not knowing what, or better yet who I am or where I'm headed.

Because I don't know if anyone else has noticed or not, but
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

I understand that that's not an unfamiliar or uncommon place to be for your average 20ish year old but unfortunately, the commonality in the feeling of floating on lost time as you slide further and further down the slide that when you get off at the bottom, responsibility is there waiting to catch you and carry you away to seek approval for your first mortgage.

Don't get me wrong, oh goodness, no please don't do that. I definitely understand that we as students are in one of the best chapters of our lives, living life with limited responsibility, no one to tell us no or where to go, figuring out who we are and all that jazz, it's truly great fun. It is however a fun that comes with its moments of definite uncertainty and they are the most exciting and terrifying moments that shape us a human beings.


Here's where I'm at:

 1. When I said I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing I meant it.

I have all the hopes and dreams and aspirations you could possibly conjure up in an imagination like mine. My life in the next 5 years is going to change so much, but unbeknownst to me, those changes could mean anything.

2. I know that my parents and God love me.

This may be the easiest thing to take for granted for most, but for me, the love and support that I receive daily is unbelievable. In the moments that I'm having a mental breakdown because I have no idea who I am or who I want to be and what I want to do, my parents are right there ready to do what they do best: love me.

3. I like big sweaters and colourful shoes.

Figuring out who you are or better yet "finding yourself", comes with the challenge of accepting what you like, even if it's a little different. And for me, I'm learning this means that maybe yes, I do in fact like to dress like a bohemian camp counselor rockstar, and that's okay. I like my blue and my orange bike too, and that's also okay because that's me and I'm okay. 

4. This post is nothing like I had intended it to be when I sat down to write it. 

I had full intention of starting this post by telling you all that today in my English lecture I was that girl. I'm wearing my ripped jeans, an old camp shirt, my grey cardigan, colourfully patterned boots, all while sporting my faded blue streaked hair. I raised my hand and I challenged my understanding and the profs interpretation of how God was depicted in a particular sonnet. So there I am proposing the prof and the other hundred students in the room consider God through John Donne's words and my church girl perspective. After lecture finished, I looked down to grab my backpack and remarked the a very clearly printed white cross among the trees on my chest. And I was proud. Alyssa from a year ago would've been mortified.. "oh no! they've figured me out, let the ostracizing begin!" The revelation of pride that came from my limited understanding how God is depicted in the bible in contrast to the sonnet prompted me to think: 

Who even I am?!

But guess what... I have no idea. 

I know that I like apple juice boxes.

I know that my writing is prettier in pencil but smudges because I'm lefthanded.

I know that my blue hair is just as much as part of me as the brown is.

I know that brownies have always been my favourite. 

I know that my mom is crazy and that my dad is caring.

And I know that they love me more than anyone. 

I know that I like snowboarding.

I know that my favourite colour is turquoise.

But that I also like grey and it's my go to base for anything.
And Indigo is a great colour too,
and one of my absolute favourite 'hats' to wear.

I know that the reputation of 'The Kid Whisperer' is a blessing. 

I know that I have no idea what that means for my future. 

I know that I like sitting on the floor.

And that I can't sleep without something over my shoulders.

I know that I find music everywhere, even just the sounds of everyday like and I love that about me.

I know that I like to be obnoxiously polite around rude people.

I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I know that I was born to be brave and courageous.

and that I have no idea what that's going to mean.

I know that I like eyeliner.

I know that my parents cooking is something I will never measure up to.

I know that my butt is no asleep because I haven't moved since I started writing this.

I know that I have no idea what my life is going to look like tomorrow

much less 2 or 5 years from now. 

I do know that I've decided to grab the bull by the horns and ride this one until God kicks me off and calls it a day for me. 

YOLO may be one of the stupidest saying to come from my generation, but it's not wrong either.
I guess more than anything, I know that I don't know much, but I do know that I'm going to be just fine.