#mightykacy

Courage is a scary thing. You can reach for something, and miss. You can jump, and not have anything to land on. You can ask a question, and be told "no," or "you can't."

For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here is a video of Kacy Catanzaro, my new (s)hero, DOMINATING the Dallas finals of American Ninja Warrior. In under 9 minutes, Kacy takes on HUGE, seemingly insurmountable obstacles... and overcomes them with (seeming) ease. She leaps across huge gaps, she climbs intimidating heights, but she does it all with grace, and gratitude for the support she's receiving... and fear.

Watch her take on the course. There are a few moments when Kacy gets stuck, or is on the verge of slipping or falling, or when she has to psychologically prepare herself for the obstacle in front of her. You can see the fear in her eyes, you know that she is dealing with the mental obstacle of being the first woman to go as far as she has in the competition.

#mightykacy

And yet, she keeps going. She keeps moving forward. She steels herself, then makes the leap. She dangles for a moment, and then reaches for the next bar. She mentally focuses, and then OWNS the obstacle in front of her.

I don't know about you, but I could stand to channel more of #mightykacy in my life. I had an epiphany recently that, in my mind, I equate confidence with courage. Having trust and belief in yourself - confidence - takes INCREDIBLE courage. There is a possibility that you might fail, slip, fall, disappoint others or yourself. There is a chance that your outcome may not be what you promised, envisioned, or imagined.

But you MUST believe. Without trying at all, you might never achieve, never succeed. Fear might be standing in your way, trying to convince you that the thing you want to do isn't worth it, but courage and confidence are the decision to just go ahead and do it anyway.

There have been many moments recently that I've been scared. A seemingly insurmountable obstacle stood in front of me, and I was tempted to walk away from the course. I was tempted to say, "No, not today. I'll come back another time." But channeling that courage - knowing what I wanted to do was scary, but then just going ahead and doing it anyway - and channeling my confidence, I took a step. And then another. And then another. And then another. And after a time, after some steps, some sweat, I looked... and I was done. I had climbed the "spider walls," I had jumped my way through the "pole grippers."

So next time you get scared, pause for a moment. Think of #mightykacy, and steel yourself for the task ahead of you. Know that your years of training will help you in your endeavors. Know that there is a crowd SCREAMING your name, ready to watch you gracefully succeed. Breathe. And make a step. Start the obstacle course. Enter the arena, as our good friend Teddy Roosevelt would say.

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. (source)

Have courage. Have confidence. You CAN. You ARE. You WILL. 

Treat Yo'self.

If you're anything like me, multitasking is NOT your strong suit. I have tried and tried to develop multitasking as a skill, and you'd think that as a part of the Millennial Generation I'd be a pro at hopping from task to task, but more often than not I find that multitasking confuses and exhausts me. I much prefer to focus on one task at a time, working towards that task's completion (or at least to a good stopping point).

The problem, of course, is that the nature of my work - fast-paced, people-oriented advising and event planning - doesn't really allow for a "slow and steady wins the race" mentality. More often than not, I find myself juggling 3 or 4 assignments or requests at a time, then pause that work to speak with a student or co-worker, and then I come back to my desk to find 5 more tasks awaiting me. Although I very much enjoy my work, it's no wonder that I very often don't feel a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day; I hop from task to task so much that it feels like I only make baby steps toward the larger goal.

My shining moments, however, are days when the office is quiet, and I can really get to work, either zooming down my to-do list, eliminating task after task, or spending an entire morning or afternoon on just one project, focusing and trying to get into "flow" (for the curious, I highly recommend Mihalyi Czikszentmihalyi's TED Talk). I truly do feel happier and more productive when I am single-mindedly focused on just one thing at a time.

Although it's summertime and the workload and busyness are predicted to slow down for us education folks, I have found that this summer has been challengingly busy so far. Although the workday doesn't feel the same as it does during the school year (especially since I'm working magical hours - 9 am to 4 pm - as opposed to my usual 9- to 10-hour day), my days are still filled with meetings, discussions, and endless lists of tasks to get done. Shockingly, I find myself almost as exhausted at the end of these summer workdays as I do during the academic year. Unfortunately, summer is the perfect time to work on both short-term tasks and long-term projects, so burnout is something that I desperately need to avoid in order to be my most productive self.

So how can I slow the burnout?

Please note, I do not enjoy fire as much as Bellatrix Lestrange.

Knowing myself as I do, the surest way to rejuvenate my interest and energy is to find my "one project" on which I can focus. When I sat down at my desk this morning, I decided that my imminent and semi-urgent tasks on my to-do list can in fact wait until the afternoon; this morning will be spent working on a project that I enjoy and am passionate about (in this particular case, re-working my syllabus for the leadership class I'll be teaching in the fall). I will, without guilty feeling, focus for the entire morning on this project. Then, after lunch, I'll dedicate the rest of the day to crossing tasks off of the to-do list and fighting the small fires that erupt.

It's summertime, it's a Thursday, and life will go on. For now, I'm going to focus on something that gives me energy, and then I'll be able to bring that energy and interest back to my everyday work this afternoon and tomorrow.

I pose this question to you - what small decision can you make to fight your own summer burnout? How can you find ways to regain your energy, to "treat yo'self," as our good friends Donna Meagle and Tom Haverford say, so that you can continually bring your best energy to your work?

Why buy the cow?

This blog post is inspired by this past week's #SAchat, which jumped on the oft-thought-taboo topic of leaving student affairs and higher education, but still utilizing student affairs skills. Or, as I'd like to call it, "taking your talents to South Beach" (and yes, some Lebron-leaving-Cleveland comparisons DID get thrown into the chat!).

As the chat went on, a question came up on whether Student Affairs preparatory programs (especially master's programs) should expose their students to opportunities outside the profession. Some participants said "No way, Jose" - this isn't the job of student affairs prep programs! Why would you go and get a student affairs degree unless you KNEW you wanted to do student affairs?? Others said, "Huh. That could be a good idea" - considering how wide and varied the field of higher education actually is, perhaps HESA programs should offer more exposure beyond just student affairs!

I want to pause this blog post here, and take a moment to tell you a story of a young junior in college. Bright-eyed and optimistic, this young lady double-majored in communication and English, with no real purpose in doing either, other than she loved reading and writing, and her parents and mentors said that communication would be a "really useful" degree (side note: it totally was.Yes, this person is me. DARN IT, I didn't mean to reveal that 'til later!). ANYWAY, when asked what I wanted to do after graduation, I would immediately panic. My first instinct has always been to be a teacher; after taking communication classes, I would often say something like "human resources" or another vague corporate-related title. But I had no real knowledge of what I wanted to do after graduation. In college, though, I had an incredible life outside the classroom - I was deeply involved in several student organizations, and besides just giving me some of the best friends I've made in life, these organizations also gave me a purpose for my time in school. So, imagine my SHOCK when one of my advisors (shout-out to you, Sonja!) told me the ultimate secret - what she did, as our organization's advisor, was a FULL-TIME JOB. She went to SCHOOL for it, and got a DEGREE! I was hooked. You mean, I thought, that I would get to work with college students... and stay in college... and plan programs... FOREVER? You can see the appeal, I'm sure. So my senior year, I applied to graduate schools, and by the end of the process I was offered a graduate assistantship at Florida State University.

The rest is not quite history. You see, there were SEVERAL times in graduate school when I questioned what I was doing, and whether or not student affairs was the right profession for me. I don't blame anyone for this - I consciously chose to pursue my master's degree with the level of experience I had as an undergrad. Part of this was because I was convinced that student affairs was the right path for me. I'll be honest, another part was that I didn't have any OTHER plans, and getting a "big-kid job" absolutely terrified me, so graduate school sounded pretty spectacular at the time. The economy was awful, so why not put off the job search for two more years? Not the best motivation, I know, but coupled with my deep-seeded interest in what I knew of higher education, it was enough to get me to graduate school.

Four years later, I still have moments where I question if this is the right profession for me. I now know that that's a completely normal question, one often asked by colleagues in this profession as well as many others. Here's what I wonder, though - could my initial lack of knowledge of the field been addressed before I went to graduate school?  While my mentors and advisors did their absolute best (and beyond) to get me ready for student affairs, was there another step I could have taken for me to test out whether I really wanted to go into higher education? Or, in other words, could I have tried the milk before I bought the whole cow?

(Make sure to read the fine print before you make that bovine purchase!)

As I reflect on this question, I think about other graduate and professional prep programs, like law school or medical school. I've often heard my friends who attended law school say, "You either love or you hate law school. There's no happy medium, there's no in between." The question is, though, how will you know if you love it before you spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on that J.D.? Same with medical school - you may not actually want to be a doctor, but how will you know that until you've spent hundreds of hours studying for the MCAT and, again, hundreds of thousands of dollars on getting your M.D.? How are we giving young people the opportunity to try out the "behind the scenes" of different professions before we ask them to commit to furthering their education? Is there a better way?

My good friend Amma Marfo has blogged about this question before, and posed the answer that perhaps a gap year after undergrad is something that the U.S. (and especially higher education) should culturally consider adopting in order to afford graduates the time to experience the profession for themselves. Similarly, Tim St. John suggests that in order to "grow the profession," we should actually be giving students a more realistic look at "what's behind the curtain" rather than selling that our work is all pizza, icebreakers, and rainbows (as so many like to stereotype student affairs).

Some opportunities like this already exist: NASPA offers an Undergraduate Fellows Program to provide undergrads an opportunity to practice before graduate school. Many institutions offer "create your own" internship experiences for undergrads; my office here at IU has begun what we hope will be a long-standing undergrad summer intern program (look for posts to come about this cool opportunity!). My alma mater, Texas A&M, actually dedicates a one-year, full-time professional position with Class Councils to anyone who wants to "try out" student affairs, no master's degree required.

If these offices, organizations, and institutions have recognized the importance of giving undergraduates the opportunity of a "trial period" before asking them to buy the proverbial cow, why can't the whole profession? Why can't we, as higher education and student affairs professionals, make a commitment to better informing those interested in our work by giving them opportunities to practice? After all, ours is a profession that prides itself on tying what we learn in the classroom to the practical experiences that we have.

To bring this back to the #SAchat discussion, what I'm proposing is that, instead of stigmatizing those who leave the profession as "quitters," instead of blaming the 60% of new professionals who burn out and drop out within 5 years for not managing work-life balance better, let's as a profession take on the responsibility of giving interested parties a better understanding of what our work actually entails before requiring them to make a commitment to it. Let's offer more undergraduate internships and entry-level (meaning no master's required) jobs so that we can openly show "what's behind the curtain" to interested parties rather than requiring that you buy the cow before you taste the milk. After all, as a profession deeply concerned with transparency and authenticity, wouldn't it behoove us to practice as we preach and to be more transparent with what student affairs and higher education actually entail?

At the end of the day, I think these opportunities for pre-graduate-degree-practice would only be a win. Not only would those who commit to graduate school have a MUCH better mental picture of the commitment they are undertaking, but they would truly feel "pulled to something they love," as Amma so eloquently wrote in another blog post (as opposed to realizing 5 years down the road that student affairs just ISN'T for them). Even more, rather than wondering which of our fresh-out-of-grad-school new professionals will be part of the 60% to burn out in 5 years, supervisors and mangers in the field would have a crop of pro's who not only made the conscious commitment to go into student affairs, but who also have a year or more of professional experience prior to graduate school, as well as any assistantship experience gained during graduate programs.

In the end, I don't think it's a bad thing in any way, shape, or form to leave student affairs. I don't think it should be stigmatized, nor do I think it should be a taboo subject. Rather, I encourage us as a field to consider ways to address the cause before the symptoms start, and give interested parties a taste of the amazing things that we get to do as student affairs professionals before we ask them to make the graduate school commitment.

Always On Time

"Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

James 1:4, NIV

Those of you who are regular readers of this blog know that I'm a big believer in the idea that everything happens for a reason. Thanks in large part to my faith, but also to various life experiences I've had, I see purpose in my life. I see a grander design for me, doors opened (and closed), windows cracked (and slammed shut), and paths forged (and dead-ended, requiring a U-turn and a new plan).

Of course, in the midst of my optimistic mantra, there are some big issues that I encounter time and time again... 

First, "Things" don't always "happen." Sometimes, it seems like every day is unfolding the same way for me; that I'm in  my very own "winter of discontent" (or, sometimes literal winter - living in the Midwest was a CHALLENGE this year with the whole freezing cold thing). I've experienced this multiple ways in the past, my graduate job search being a prime example. I would apply for a job, get an interview, sometimes even get an on-campus... and then nothing. No offer, no encouragement. On to the next one; wash, rinse, repeat. I'm sure those of you who are job searching right now can empathize with this feeling. Sometimes, it can feel like this on the job too - day in and day out, the same activities are happening; the same students are in and out of my office; the same programs are being planned and executed. You know, "there is nothing new under the sun."

Second, if "things" are "happening," they don't always happen how or when I want them to. I can plan all I want for my life - for my one-year, five-year, and ten-year benchmarks of "where I'll be," but in my experience, whenever I do this, God likes to giggle and say, "Nope." (Apparently I'm not the only one who's ever experienced this - I think we've got some cultural mantras, i.e. "Man proposes, God disposes" and "The best-laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley" to back me up.) I have these picture-perfect visions of my life in my head, and I will seize opportunities that will lead me to those visions, just to have the door shut and be told "It's not for you."

Whenever I'm in the middle of these issues, of course, I get frustrated. I feel becalmed, listless, inert, like nothing will change for me. I also feel annoyed, impatient, and sometimes even pained by my perceived stagnation or frustration of plans. I shake my fist at the sky and say, "Why wasn't MY plan good enough?!?" 

But the beauty and challenge of faith is the whole "believing without seeing" thing, not walking by sight but rather choosing to trust in God's plan and His perfect timing.

Because, at the end of the day, His timing IS perfect. That's the crazy amazing awesome thing about my life experiences - time and time again, I have seen that God's timing is PERFECT. My plan may or may not have been a good one, but God's plan was ultimately better for me.

I've been feeling this listlessness lately. Summer, while one of my favorite times of year because of the opportunities it affords to rest and reflect, can also be extraordinarily challenging because of the results of these reflections. What have I accomplished? I ask myself. What am I doing well? What can I be doing better? What is the next step here? What choices should I be making to lead me to the next step? When should I be stepping, and when should I be building what I've already got where I've already got it? In my head, I echo one of the funny-but-resonates-with-me quotes that one of my students keeps saying in regard to her graduate school search: "I wish I could just see a year into the future and know exactly where I'll be going, and what I'll be doing." It's funny, because that's impossible, of course. It's funny, because I COMPLETELY empathize with her frustration. And it's funny, because I keep reminding her to "trust the process," that everything will turn out exactly how it's supposed to. I know, because I've seen it, and I know because I believe it to be true. 

Whether or not you are a person of faith, believe in a higher power, or even consider yourself  spiritual, there's something to be said for "the Universe" making things work out in a funny and brilliant way. I received a timely devotional email in my inbox this morning, which is what inspired this post:

...When God wants to make a giant oak, he takes a hundred years, but when he wants to make a mushroom, he does it overnight... 

Be patient with the process. James advised, "Don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed" (James 1:4b MSG).

Don’t get discouraged. When Habakkuk became depressed because he didn't think God was acting quickly enough, God had this to say: "These things I plan won’t happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, do not despair, for these things will surely come to pass. Just be patient! They will not be overdue a single day!" (Habakkuk 2:3 LB)

A delay is not a denial from God!

Remember how far you've come, not just how far you have to go. You are not where you want to be, but neither are you where you used to be. Years ago people wore a popular button with the letters PBPGINFWMY. It stood for "Please Be Patient, God Is Not Finished With Me Yet." God isn't finished with you, either, so keep on moving forward. Even the snail reached the ark by persevering! - Rick Warren

Isn't that an encouraging reminder? I especially love the line, "A delay is not a denial from God." God may not be saying no; he may just be saying, "Not yet."

For those of you who are frustrated and impatient, feeling like the world isn't (or you aren't) moving at the right pace, know that I feel your pain. But my recommendation? Stop for a minute. Think back on your life, and the choices and plans that led you to where you are now. See the beauty in the seemingly chaotic and convoluted paths you've walked to get to where you are, and take a moment to trust that everything is going to be okay. It's hard, and you may have to make the conscious choice to trust in a "bigger plan" every moment of every day, but a year from now, five years, ten years, 30 years down the road, you're going to be able to see the pattern that emerges from God's perfect timing, and know that He was always on time.

Persevere, my friends. The day will come when you're exactly who you are supposed to be.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Take a deep breath.

Slowly, exhale.

Do you feel it? Do you feel the tension ease? 

Do you feel that tightness in between your shoulder blades loosen? Do you feel that weight on your heart lift?

For all my education buddies out there, breathe that sweet air. That's summertime. (For those of you who are still plugging away, don't give up! The light is there, waiting for you at the end of the tunnel.)

As I've blogged about before, as much as I love what I do and the students I work with, summer is a time to breathe easy. It's a time when the rush, hustle, and bustle of the school year dissipates, and calendars open up to days without structure, days full of free moments. Of course, this doesn't mean that idleness reigns supreme; on the contrary, summer is a time when I seek to be more productive than ever. Summer is a time when I can break out that ever-growing project list, and block out whole uninterrupted hours of my day to get things done (as opposed to the school year, when my students pop in and out of my office like the Caddyshack gopher). 

But summer is also a wonderful time to reflect on the academic year past - I have completed 2 school years at IU now (and the calendar two year anniversary is in August). It is a time to think about how I've grown as a professional, and how I can continue to stretch myself. It's a time to reflect on all the things I've learned, and to ponder what lessons I still have yet to learn. 

I'm going to be productive this summer, for sure. I plan to do quite a bit of writing this summer, both here on the blog and also some professional topics. I plan to clean and organize my office and my apartment, continuing my #OneWord theme of "simplicity" and practice streamlining my life. 

But more than anything, I plan to breathe the sweet summer air. I plan to spend time with friends, making memories to last a lifetime. I plan to relax, to stop pressuring myself to perform 24/7 and to just spend some time just being, living, breathing. 

Take another deep breath.

Slowly, exhale.

It's summertime, y'all. 

Somebody Needs the Light You Have

The end of the year is a challenging time for everyone. Whether it's my colleagues in education and we're on the cusp of summer, waiting for empty classrooms, towns, campuses, and residence halls; whether it's our business fellows, waiting for the end of the fiscal year so that their budgets (and companies) can turn over and turn around; whether it's the world waiting for December 31 to turn over to January 1, for the old to become new and for a clean slate, to start fresh... the time before the "new year" can seem interminable.

Especially in higher education, I know that my colleagues and I are on the "struggle bus," riding uphill both ways in the snow 'til the quiet, relaxation, and project-based time of summer (with the exception of my Admissions and Orientation fellows; Godspeed, my friends). Spring semester is especially a rough time - programming ramps up as the year moves toward its end; as the weather gets warmer, students get antsier to get out of Dodge, headed for internships, study abroad, and summer vacation; the weeks FLY by with seemingly no rest or respite for the weary, weary educator who just wants ONE quiet moment to BREATHE and REFLECT and for goodness' sake FINISH A TASK. (Can you tell I've been feeling the crazy this spring?)

Especially here in the Midwest, winter was HARD and seemingly never-ending (cue the Game of Thrones references), and then, even as the weather started warming up (it's a beautiful and balmy 66* here currently), so did work. Task piled upon task; program piled upon program. Conference after conference took place; email after email piled up in inboxes. Offices and desks got messier and more neglected; self-care flew out the window in favor of trying to accomplish something at work, to cross just one task off of the to-do list.

I don't say all of this to get sympathy or empathy from you. A few student affairs colleagues just had some great conversations about "The Glorification of Busy" (see the #SAchat transcript here, and some good processing blog posts from Amma Marfo here and from The SA Collective here), and the last thing I want to do is try heap up sympathy for me when, honestly, I brought a lot of the "busy" down on myself.

No, instead, what I want to talk about today is the important reminder that I got in the midst of the hard time.

I'll be real, I don't handle long-term periods of stress well. I've gotten better at it over time, but I still largely react to stress and busy-ness with unhealthy behaviors (more Netflix, less exercise; more eating out, less cooking for myself; more alone time, less time with friends). I start to let the "burnout" get to me - I emotionally and mentally withdraw from my daily life; I question my choices and my actions each day; I take critiques personally and react to situations with gut-driven emotion rather than brain-based logic. (For those of you who have stayed my friend during these times, THANK YOU. Your love of me despite my inability to handle stress means the world to me.:) )

This spring semester has felt harder than most. I am wrapping up Year Two of my job, and I question if I've accomplished or learned anything at all. My students ramped up their programming toward summer, and I questioned if I've really been supporting them and teaching them in the ways that they need. All I want is to hide away in my house, or run away from everything on a loooong vacation, to cover my eyes like a kid and say "If I can't see it, it's not real."

But the other day, I was driving to work, dreading the stress of the day, and a beautiful reminder came on the radio, that I wanted to share with all of you. The song is a Christian worship song, and yet contains an important reminder that I think all people can benefit from. Here is the first verse, and the chorus:

One million reasons why, you shouldn't even try.
After all you're just one heart, a single candle in the dark.
And there are shadows here, feeding on your fears,
That you don't have what it takes - who are you to make a change?

But oh, oh, don't underestimate the God you follow.

Whatever you do, just don't look back.
Oh somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don't lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Keep on pushing back the dark.

What a beautiful reminder, huh? Even in the stress, the darkness of the world, even in times when you may feel like you don't matter, that you can't possibly contribute - I know I've felt that way, many a time - somebody needs the light you have.

So even when it feels like you can't take one more step; even when it feels like the "burnout" is so bad that you need to bathe in aloe vera to treat the heat... keep on pushing back the dark. Because somebody - and you may never know who, but somebody - needs your light. Somebody needs to see you "keep on keepin' on." You may never see the fruit of the seeds you plant each day, but isn't just the idea that you're planting a seed worthwhile? Isn't the picture of the darkness, with even one candle shining, the most hopeful thing you can imagine? Let your light keep shining, however you need to do that. Somebody needs your light. Keep on pushing back the dark.

(song: "Pushing Back the Dark" by Josh Wilson)

LeaderShape, Day Six (and beyond): Staying in Action

Note: This Spring Break, I served as a small group facilitator on LeaderShape, a six-day immersive leadership experience for college students. This was my first time working with a LeaderShape experience, so I wanted to record and process my reflections and learning here on my blog.
Previous LeaderShape Posts: Day Zero, Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four, Day Five

Waking up on Day Six of LeaderShape was absolutely surreal. As anyone who has participated in or facilitated a LeaderShape experience can tell you, it is at once the LONGEST and the SHORTEST week of your life. On the one hand, you wake up on Day Three and think to yourself, "We still have THREE MORE DAYS of this?!?" On the other hand, you blink, and all of a sudden, it's Day Six. The participants are packing their bags, we're cleaning our family cluster meeting rooms, we're wrapping up the thinking and learning and growing that's been taking place... and you can't believe a whole week has flown by.

The end of a LeaderShape experience is a special time. It consists of several pieces - first there's a wonderful commencement ceremony. As we all know from graduation speeches long-past, "commencement means beginning." As this is a meaningful concept to ponder for graduations from school, so it is for LeaderShape. The end of the retreat is only the beginning of a time back out in the world. We have spent the past six days with the participants, challenging them, having deep conversations with them, laughing with them, crying with them. We have looked inward to look outward. We have dreamed the biggest visions of all, and then simulated the often-heartbreaking and always-exhausting return to real life with all its challenges and oppression. But then, on Day Six, it's time to look forward... what will Day Seven (and beyond) look like for the participants? How will they stay in action?

This leads to the second big piece of Day Six - the concept of Day Seven. Every day after LeaderShape is considered "Day Seven" - if you let your life be a continuation of the growth you've experienced on the retreat, then every day onward can be a part of your special LeaderShape experience. I love this concept of continuity; I love the idea that each day can (and probably) should serve as a reminder of the growth that occurred on LeaderShape.

Of course, this idea is not without its challenges. I've been taking part in extended retreats for a LONG time - first with the Emmaus and Chrysalis Christian retreats in middle and high school, then with Fish Camp at Texas A&M, and now with LeaderShape - and I can tell you that the hardest part of being a part of a "mountain-top" experience like that is coming back down into the "valley."  Retreats are an amazing time to get away from the world and be reminded of the important things... but what happens when you come back? Can the concepts you've learned, the realizations you've had, the ideas you've birthed, stay alive in the toughness of everyday life? Can the relationships you've formed stand the stress and tests of the nine-to-five grind? Can the "process of life-long leadership," as LeaderShape describes it, continue?

I think the answer is "Yes, but it won't be easy." 

LeaderShape begins Day Six with a quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes: "A mind once stretched by a new idea never regains its original dimension." On the LeaderShape experience, the mind, the heart, and the soul have been stretched. Sometimes the process hurts, sometimes it feels like your mind should have been stretched all along; regardless, the experience changes you in a fundamental way. Then, returning to the "real world"... things are different. YOU are different. You see the world in a different way, hopefully never to return to your "original dimension," because the new way is infinitely better than the old.

But again, these changes are not without challenges. Friends and family may not see eye-to-eye with your new perspective. You may be ready and energized for radical change; the world may say, "Whoa, whoa. Who do you think you are with these new ideas? Slow your roll, buddy. Things are the way they are for a reason." Coming back down into the "valley" of everyday life can be exhausting, disheartening, and can knock you over 'til it feels like you can't get back up.

So how do you deal with this process? How do you retain the energy and inertia you gained in your experience? How do you stay in action?

To be honest... I'm still figuring out the answers to those questions. As you can tell from my past reflections on this experience, LeaderShape changed even ME, a facilitator, in a fundamental way. I questioned my ways of thinking and my values right along with the participants; I built new relationships and new visions for how I wanted the world to be. I was in it right along with everyone else, and it was a beautiful thing. And now, I am practicing what LeaderShape calls "resilience," because I am right down in the valley with the participants. The mountain-top seems far away and forever ago, and now I'm living in the nine-to-five grind again... but I am different. I am practicing getting back up after falling down (or being pushed down), because I've started to realize that my life, my values, can and should mean SO much more to me and be SO much more of a part of my life than they are. 

It's not easy. But it is my privilege and my responsibility to carry forward the lessons I learned and the joy I gained from LeaderShape, and to try to change the world - my world - a little bit at a time, every day. 

~

It's now over a month since LeaderShape ended. It's a rainy day in April; the school semester ends in 12 days. My engine has been running on all cylinders for the past month since I got back; my mind is mush and my energy is low. But in the grey murk of this Monday, there's a little spark for me, as I think back on LeaderShape. As I consider the amazing things I witnessed, the amazing students and facilitators I met, the spark glows brighter. As I remember my promises to myself to stay true to me and to my values, the spark turns into a little flame. And I smile, because I know that, as long as that flame is there - hell, as long as that spark doesn't go out - I am going to make it. Today will flow into other days; the world will keep turning; I will try my hardest to be a spark for others. I will keep my flame lit, to try to light the way in the gray.