Reading Thoreau's Walden Pond while spending the weekend at Camp Bethel? It's pretty good for a funk, too :)
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived... I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.
We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake... by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor.
It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.
[all excerpted from Chapter 2: Where I Lived, and What I Lived for]
It remained untouched for almost a year: wooden planks and debris strewn throughout the dry creek bed, campers forced to wake up an extra 47 seconds earlier to walk to the main bridge in order to arrive at morning watch on time all summer :) But now? Slowly, yet surely, it's being rebuilt... and it looks much less "shaky" this time around. There's a metaphor in all of that somewhere, I'm sure of it. However, it's getting late, so I'll let you figure that one out for yourself :)
The "new" shaky bridge & Saturday evening worship at Camp Bethel via Instagram. [My username is @simplybeffie if you want to follow the feed.]