I decided to send myself to camp for my 37th birthday. Not really camp, but sort of.
“Are you going to have to sit in a circle naked?” my coworker asked last week, after I told him why I would be out of town for two weeks.
“I don’t think so.” I said, though I was actually not sure. “It’s in a hotel conference room. But…”
I’ve taken to calling it Fear Camp, only because I don’t really know what to call it or how to describe it. A week long program built around breaking old patterns and living life deliberately. Or, at least that’s what I’ve gathered from my friend who went and raved about it and from their website.
The truth is that I was intrigued by the concept, figured it wouldn’t hurt even if it wasn’t amazing, could potentially change my life and help clarify things I have been thinking about, was a good excuse to go on a road trip to LA, where I could visit friends, it would be an interesting way to turn 37, and why the hell not?
I packed my car with clothes, yoga mat, and my Mary Poppins style bag of essentials (tripod, selfie stick, licorice, iPad, books, journal, tarot cards (which I am determined to learn how to read), book about tarot cards, computer, cize exercise dvds, and a bag of lemons I didn’t use before leaving home). And here I am in a friend’s borrowed home in Pasadena, with a couple of days to hang out before the five day session begins.
What to expect? I don’t know. The website is vague, as is my friend who is involved in the program. It will be what it will be for each, no one will have the same experience. Be present and see what presents itself. Watch your reactions. Be clear. What do I want? What am I afraid to admit I want? What do I want to change? Or to move forward with? Certain themes keep popping up, everywhere. Change, coming out of a shell, having the courage to really be seen and therefor vulnerable, saying no to things that are comfortable but unsatisfying, trust.
On the way home I hope to take the scenic route, I-10 through Joshua Tree and on to Bisbee, Arizona, somewhere I have always wanted to go, rather than the more direct, usual I-40. But, something tells me not to plan or think too far ahead. I can feel curveballs in the air. It’s always an adventure but sometimes that is more obvious than others.
A few of my favorite things.