The Adventures Continue...

It was just a month ago that I got into the van leaving La Vida's base camp. But I didn't return home. I arrived back in Massachusetts and moved into an apartment with a lady from my church that I had met briefly, to begin a summer internship that I was slightly apprehensive about.

 It was one of the most difficult transitions I've ever had to make.

 Not only did I miss my home and family, I missed my Wolfpack, my La Vida group. It seemed like any little thing I did would bring back a rush of memories from the hiking trip, and with that the realization that it was the group that made those memories great. I coped that weekend by crying pretty much non-stop. I finally understood first-hand how painful transitions can be.

As I began the long (and still unfinished) task of processing the trip, I realized that even though I was no longer in the woods, I was still exhibiting leadership traits that I had developed over those twelve days. I was pleased to catch myself still serving others, confidently offering encouragement and advice, and most importantly, staying calm in dire situations.

For example...

Batty

It was my third night in the apartment, and I was sitting quietly  on the couch with my lap-top, naturally open to Facebook. My roommates cat, Cavan, was sitting next to me. All of the sudden Cavan, who had seemed rather distracted by something behind me, stared at a fixed point above my head. I followed her gaze to find a bat hanging out on the support beam up behind me. Had a little freak out moment. After anxiously calling my cousin and receiving some reassurance from her, I decided to just leave it there till the morning and go to bed.

My roommate, however, felt the need to get rid of it.

A little while later she was hiding under the table, very upset and scared as the bat flew around the apartment, making passes very close to her head. Though she didn't want me to come out of my room to help her, I did offer to pray out loud for her, just as my group had done many times before during our hiking trip. I heard her calm down and make it back to her bedroom before I fell asleep.


The next morning I cautiously opened my bedroom door. "Is it gone?"I thought. It seemed so. But then I became aware of a faint squeaking noise, like the flickering sound a fluorescent dorm light makes right before it goes out. We don't have those sort of lights in our apartment. I saw Cavan staring under part of the couch and thought, "Oh well, I'll deal with it later," and left for my internship.

Batty on the Vacuum

I came back that afternoon mentally prepared to trap the bat in some sort of container...but encountered nothing. No sounds. No mysterious behavior from Cavan. With nothing better to do, I decided to swiffer the floors. As you, my educated reader, most likely know, swiffering only picks up so much. Seeing the vacuum readily accessible in  the living room, I picked it up to use it, and then immediately dropped it as it exploded into squeaking. I cringed for a few seconds, until I realized the bat had not flown at my head as I had feared, but had remained on the vacuum. Keeping my cool and thinking quickly, I grabbed the cat and shut it

away in a room, put on a cap, and grabbed my camera. Slowly, and with tons of squeaking, I carried the vacuum out of the apartment and down three flights of stairs to the outside porch. The bat held on for the whole ride. Feeling confident and proud, I took a few pictures of my accomplishment before running back inside. Of course the next thing for me to do was to text my roommate the words, "You can just call me bat warrior..."

Though not as elaborate or challenging as some of my adventures from La Vida, it was encouraging to realize that the skills I learned from that trip are not limited to New York's Adirondack park. Life is full of adventures, and the learning I took away from leading this past May is still very applicable to my current, and undoubtedly future, escapades.

Stay tuned for more adventures...

(I've always wanted to type that)