Because I have a lot on my mind - Reflections on Elevation

So, yes. I have been home from the beautiful, red Southern Utah for over a week now. And what have I spent this week doing?

Staring at my ceiling and thinking. Thinking.

I learned many things at Elevation, the camp my online high school does, which was the reasoning behind my travel to St. George. Like how to really meditate, kill my thighs via yoga poses and push myself physically, mentally and emotionally to my limits. I learned that we as humans don't think.


Tell me, when was the last time you took a good three or four hours to unplug every electronic device you possess, go out in nature and just think? Alone?

Yeah, I had never done it either.

Most of us just go. And go. And go, and go, and go until our energy is just...gone. Mental, physical, emotional and spiritual energy. In the process of "going", our minds are completely fixated on the specific task we are performing and we don't stop to look at things. Or we rarely do. That is why I am so grateful for the three hours I was given to sit on a rock, in a canyon, by myself for three hours. I don't think I've ever had epiphanies flow into me so profusely.

In my solo time, I thought a lot about love. God's love. An incomprehensible, beautiful love. I thought about how much of that love I take for granted every single day. How there is grass and dirt and bugs beyond my front door because He loves me -- He could have sent me to a world of concrete and only concrete with nothing to explore. Tears welled up in my eyes just looking around and listening. I've always believed there is a special spirit in things which are untouched by man, but it had been a while since I had felt it.

Oh, and I have a new favorite song. And there's one line in it that's stuck in my head and I love it and I think it might kind of sort of fit into this blog post. And it really relates to my Elevation experience.

"The whole world is moving, but I'm standing still." - The World Spins Madly on / The Weepies

So yeah, the whole world seems to be restless twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-hundred-sixty-five (and on leap year, 'sixty-six) days a year. And it IS restless. The demands on individuals never cease...But that doesn't mean we can't take the time to stand still.

I've learned to trust my feet.

It was day one of Elevation and I was still getting over the fact that my cyber-friends had legs and such. I decided I was going to rock climb...sort of. It was my first time and frankly, it scared the freaking crud out of me. When I walked up to my belayer, he asked, "You ready, Julia?" and it kind of hit me. My belayer -- my headmaster, the man who opened up a whole new world of learning and passion to me -- knew me, to an extent. And just so you know, Mr. Ure is very easy to talk to...because in response to his question...I started rambling.

"Half of me is ready. It's saying, 'do it. You've got this. You're going to destroy this stupid rock.' and then the other half is going, 'don't climb that thing you idiot. You'll die. You'll never get to the top.'" <-- All of this was said faster than it should have been.

"You know what you should do when you feel those emotions?" Mr. Ure said. "Take a deep breath, soak up those feelings, feel them, and then...do it. Trust your feet."

And so, I did it.

Thursday's night hike came, where we were addressed by my Pod's (group) trail guide, Jamin. He spoke about Leadership that night, there in the dark, and he expounded upon the same thing Mr. Ure had said days before. "Sometimes, you just have to trust your feet to take you to the destination you desire."

And then on the last day, shortly before I left that beautiful place, I was climbing for the last time. Everything I had learned and felt that week was on my mind with each push to a new hand-hold. My peers stood below me, my potential above me, and something...peaceful within me. And then there was Ben Brown, my writing mentor, calling up to me, "Trust your feet, Julia. Trust your feet."
I cried all the way up that wall.

I learned and felt and experienced lots of things at Elevation...writing about it makes me miss it. I would do anything to go back. But until then, my bed awaits until seminary at dawn.

Oh, and always remember to look beyond what you see.

Julia

(Here's that song I mentioned)