Leader Orientation

Last time I wrote we had just moved into the unit house in the Springs...and were about to begin our orientation with the other Service Adventure leaders and some of the staff of Mennonite Mission Network. From Wednesday night to Sunday afternoon, we spent our time learning about the Service Adventure program, exploring the area, discussing house setup and spiritual life, playing games, going over policies, and practicing healthy conflict and communication. Eating, making music, and laughing.

It's hard to know how to describe a week like this. Every day reminded me of the orientation weeks I spent at Highland with the summer staff: immersive, exciting, packed full of activity, and hilariously fun. In both cases, the people involved are often meeting for the first time, but they become instant friends; everyone is united in the common goal of preparing to serve in a new context together. It's the experience of preparing for a new job that is so much more than a job, because with these jobs, you can't leave at the end of the workday and forget about everything until the next morning. Your work IS your life, and your life feeds your work.

But a noticeable difference between Highland summer staff orientation and SA Leader orientation is this: At the end of the orientation week at camp, everyone lived and worked together for the following two months. We had bonded as coworkers and friends, prepared ourselves to serve according to the mission of Highland Retreat, and were ready to dive into the new adventure. Together.

By contrast, on Sunday our time together in a group of 8 leaders and 4 MMN staff officially concluded...and everyone left. Daniel and I, of course, stayed here in Colorado Springs, but the rest of our group dispersed to their homes in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Pennsylvania. By the end of August, all 5 Service Adventure units will be open, and the 8 leaders will be spread out over thousands of miles across the country: Oregon, New Mexico, Colorado, Pennsylvania, and Alaska. We ended our orientation feeling like we had all found new friends and kindred spirits, and that we're well-equipped to work and serve together....but we won't see each other again until our leaders retreat in January.

In the span of four days, this group of people went from being complete strangers to feeling like close friends. In some ways that feels silly, because how well can I really know someone after only four days? But ultimately I believe that time is a construct, one that doesn't fully capture or justify the human experience. So I do believe that these people are true friends, despite the lack of longevity so far. The next few months will present a challenge of balance in that we all want to invest deeply where we are, and yet the 8 of us are literally the only people in the entire world doing this job...so of course we should communicate enough to encourage and support one another. In a similar way, we will struggle to balance the immersive life in the unit while maintaining our important relationships with friends, family, and home communities. And last week's orientation sessions reminded me that self-care is an important part of the balance equation, too.

It won't be an easy path to pave, but I'm excited to be on this adventure. Although my heart ached to leave my beloved family and close friends and community in Harrisonburg, I am wholly glad to be here. This world is full of truly wonderful people, and I intend to know as many of them as possible.

Westward pilgrimage: Some highlights

After 3 days of travel, we arrived in Colorado Springs last night. It's a bit strange, moving into a house you've never seen before in a city you've never visited, knowing it's going to be your home for two years. I'm sure within a few days I'll start feeling more comfortable here, but right now it mostly feels like I'm on vacation in an unfamiliar place. 

It was good to feed my wanderlust on a 1,574-mile road trip. Our trip was fueled by music, trivia questions, snacks, conversation, reading, and TED Radio Hour podcasts, and that was more than enough to keep me happy. Also, west strikes me as by far the most romantic direction to be going -- maybe it's just a bit of lingering westward expansion mentality, but there was something about following all the westward-bound signs through seven states that felt extra adventurous.

Leaving Harrisonburg for the last time was the hardest part. I already miss having my family and closest friends just a few minutes away, but I still feel confident in being here.

The first day, we hauled ourselves and our tiny car packed full of belongings over the mountains of West Virginia and Kentucky. This was the longest travel day, taking us to Mount Vernon, Illinois. The second day we drove just a bit further to Saint Louis, Missouri, where I'd never been before. (I still don't feel like I've seen all that much of it, but we spent a fair bit of time walking around the downtown area.) After lunch and part of the afternoon, we headed for Topeka, Kansas for the second night. 

The third day, we drove across most of Kansas and into Colorado. 

                     

I expected driving across Kansas to be boring, but it actually might have been my favorite leg of the trip. Without the extra traffic from any major cities, we were free to enjoy the landscape: a huge expanse of sky swirled with clouds, vast farmlands stretching to both sides, gentle hills dotted with silos and wind turbines.

Entering Colorado was a glorious feeling. It didn't really look any different from Kansas, but after months of anticipation, it was good to finally be in our new state.

Just before we entered Colorado Springs, massive storm clouds took over the sky. When the torrential rains started, we eventually stopped to wait it out, which ended up being a good idea when the hail started. This is what we saw through our windshield while we were waiting.

It was a LOT of water.

Eventually we made it to the Springs, and to the Rockies. 

Next up: Settling into our new home, exploring our neighborhood and beyond, and meeting the other Service Adventure leaders at our orientation beginning tonight. 

This week: Firsts and lasts

I've been waiting to write until my thoughts settled into a pattern, but I decided to stop holding out for that to happen.

Last weekend was a blissful haven spent in the shelter of some of my best friends. At the same time, melancholy and grief were stitched throughout my experiences, knowing that this was the last time we would be together for probably a year or so. Still, there were enough moments to hold onto, to carry me forward in the weeks to come. Like my last group hug with A, B, and J Sunday morning, soaking up the togetherness and love and contentment.

On Sunday afternoon, singing hymns with some of our favorite church friends. Looking around our little circle and feeling so grateful for sound and voice and the company of these friends, almost bursting with the joy of song.
Then being given a jar of wildflowers. Singing a parting song. Crying. Taking an iPad selfie with everyone. Beauty.

Reminding myself that I'm in the midst of the hard work of leaving.

On Monday, we got to meet Paula and Bruce, two of our future friends at Beth-El Mennonite Church in the Springs. Feeling the budding excitement and a sense of right-ness, the more pleasant (but equally important) counterpart to the grief of leaving.

Also on Monday, I finally got a smart phone. The first thing I did was set the ring tones. Editing out all my techno-mishaps, the second thing I did was connect to my email, and the third was to text some people a photo (a feat my archaic flip phone couldn't handle). The fourth was to download NPR and brain training apps. I've been feeling very Ravenclaw this week.

My 23rd birthday on Wednesday. Devouring pancakes and an excellent book. Packing. Dinner and chocolate cake with my beloved family.

Last day of work on Thursday. Trying to muster up some sadness, but mostly just feeling thankful for such a supportive work environment and great coworkers. It's time to move on.

Also Thursday, dinner with Brent and Kirsten, the first Colorado Springs leaders. (I didn't realize how young that unit is -- it started in 2010-2011. So we'll only be the third set of leaders.) As someone who takes a long time to make friends, it's rare for me to feel an immediate sense of kinship twice in one week, but that's what happened this time. We left feeling re-energized, excited, and supported, just like we did after coffee on Monday.

This morning, saying goodbye to one of my best friends. Seeing her future and mine bursting with new joy and potential, and wishing we could do next year together, yet knowing that every year I've had with her has been a gift. Calling to mind, not for the first time this week, the wise words of Winnie the Pooh: "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

Counting down to our departure next Sunday. Next week will be full of extreme packing and even more goodbyes. But so far I've succeeded in remembering two things: that sadness is a natural and important part of living this good life, and that endings remind us of the blessings we've experienced. May it continue to be so.