So why bother in the first place?"
Ten weeks ago, I sat atop Vesper Hill, surrounded by dozens of familiar and not-so-familiar faces in the glow of the fire. I breathed in the cool night air, listened to the crickets harmonizing in the woods, and contemplated the summer ahead. Ten weeks is a long time, and I could not possibly fathom all that was to come. I could not imagine exchanging love gifts, worshipping one final time as a staff in right field, and saying good-bye to these people, many of which I hardly knew.
However, it happened. Summer happened. It always does. No matter how long the days seem, the weeks pass quickly, and before I knew it, I was leading the final Hillside, making the final bend-o assignments, and watching campers leave the gate for the last time. I was holding back tears as I hugged staff members that became friends and roommates that became sisters.
"You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again.
So why bother in the first place?
What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above.
One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen..."
I have seen indeed. I have seen a white church with its doors always open. I have seen a great feast with its guests at round tables. I have seen a bearded man who was seeking adventure. I have seen flames of new vision and ashes of repetition. I have seen ten billion lights on the edge of a meadow. And I have seen a group of young dreamers who were joined in their mission.
And it's a hard rains a-gonna fall...)
But mostly, I have seen love. I have seen spirit. I have seen the body of Christ. And although the summer has come to an end, I know that "there is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up."
So why bother experiencing the summit in the first place when one cannot stay forever?
Because "when one can no longer see, one can at least still know." - René Daumal