The Things I Learned at Camp Grounded (AKA Digital Detox)

I first heard about Camp Grounded from Eric Waisman, the founding instructor (and my teacher) at Jaunty, the School for Social Intelligence in San Francisco back in July. He had just attended the camp in the Redwoods of California and told us all (his students) that it was a transformative experience. Jaunty is fantastic, and I’ll probably blog about it at some point in the future, but if you’re in San Francisco, it’s worth checking out.

I immediately went online to find out more about this camp and found out that the next camp was going to be in Austin all the way in October. Around this time, a lot was going on in my life, but I had resolved to move back to Austin and I made October my deadline to make that happen. That is also a separate blog entry and this intro is already long enough.

At any rate, I signed up and I just left camp a few days ago. It was one of the best experiences of my life and I cannot recommend it enough.

In no particular order, here are the things that I personally learned at Camp Grounded.

1. You can live a month in a day.

On one of the four days, I woke up early for my morning coffee and saw the moon, Jupiter, and Venus in a perfect line as the sun slowly burned them away; I wrote a few notes for camp friends; attended physical bootcamp with Ninja Mouse; had breakfast with my fellow Fox cabin mates; attended an improv workshop where I sang and was actually pretty damn funny; had a tarot reading over lunch with Buffalo; dabbled in some spoken word exercises in the early afternoon; competed and conquered the camp rope obstacle course (making a new, close friend in the process); got dressed in all white to to participate in silent meditation as the sun set over the lake; said goodbye to the things that were holding me back as I burned the piece of paper containing these things in a bonfire; watched others cry as they experienced their own loss and rebirth; realized that I needed to forgive my ex for leaving me in order to move on; started to cry in my own revelation; sat down for a formal silent dinner with fellow campers in front and to the side of me, all lost in their own thoughts and reflections; nervously began to talk when the bell rang to end the silence; had an intense conversation about the nature of selflessness with a gal named Luna; got dressed back into my normal clothes to prepare for the talent show; watched my fellow campers excel in their display of talent; got up to perform an improv skit with my improv class and performed exceptionally; watched a close friend of mine grow in confidence as he played his flute beautifully for the first time in 7 years and for the first time in public; talked with a new friend from Australia about past relationships as we lay on our backs in the grass, watching the milky way in the clear Texas night sky; watched an after hours extension of the talent show in a crowded yurt surrounded by fellow tired, but happy campers; walked back to my cabin alone with a majestic view of the bright, bright stars and was humbled by the enormity of the night sky; and finally fell asleep with the sound of the lake against the wooden piers and the stars shining down on me from the open cabin window.

2. Shedding your name, job, and age makes you open to friendship.

At camp, no work talk is allowed and you have to leave your real name and age at the door. Camp nicknames are either assigned or you bring with you. I chose the former and ended up with the name Ceremonial Jaguar thanks to two camp counselors: Lunch and Bricky St. James. Throughout the camp experience, folks made friends with each other easily…there wasn’t anything there to restrict them from creating a conversation. There wasn’t any intimidation due to work status, position, or role. Anyone could talk to anyone and judge them on who they were as a person. This was incredibly liberating, especially coming from San Francisco, where most gatherings started with “where do you work?” followed by “what do you do?” and “who do you know?” Now it was “do you want me to paint your face?” and “hey do you want to go practice archery with me?” and “I really enjoyed your creative writing exercise, do you want to read my poem?”.

3. The Importance of Male Bonding.

I can only speak from my perspective, but I’ve always imagined myself as an outsider looking in. I’m a gay man, and I had pre-judgements about straight males ever since I first came out. I have this fear that as soon as a heterosexual man finds out that I’m gay that he’ll be angry, or want to beat me up, or think that I’m hitting on him. So, over the years, I’ve somehow managed to avoid getting close to any heterosexual males. I’ve kept them at arm’s length, emotionally, because not only did I think that they would somehow harm me, but I also thought that the gay experience was so different than the heterosexual experience that we couldn’t possibly relate to anything.

Camp Grounded forced me to become exceptionally close to 18 other heterosexual males who made up the Fox cabin. We shared many revelations, fears, and experiences and ultimately, we ended up supporting each other physically and emotionally. I gave advice on how to approach relationships better with girls…I listened to advice on how to make sure both parties were happy in a relationship. I saw them struggle to understand females, and I tried to give them as much insight as I could. I was a part of the group and in the end, I shared with them all that I was gay (I had only told a few before when it came up naturally in conversation) and that I was thankful to be able to have had this opportunity to bond with them and to be treated like one of their own. A few came up to me afterwards to thank me for opening their eyes, as they had no idea that I was gay and that they, too, had struggled in the past with pre-judgements about what a gay male should look like and act like.

I never thought I’d be able to tell a group of 18 guys that I loved them and only know them for four days, but it happened at camp.

4. We don’t need to define ourselves to others.

I’ve been told that I don’t have a stereotypical telltale sign that broadcasts to the world that I’m gay. This often leads to people assuming that I’m straight. At Camp Grounded, where females outnumbered the males by about a 3 to 1 ratio, I had to explore what this meant in how I approached new friendships. I received a few confessions of crushes for me in my camp inbox (a physical box for notes) and noticed what appeared to be flirtatious behavior from a few women, although, much later, I realized that perhaps I had misinterpreted the behavior in order to serve my own ego.

This was new territory for me, as I’ve somehow managed to control these situations in the past. I usually clear the air immediately and awkwardly introduce the fact that I’m gay as soon as possible in a conversation where I perceive that a female is showing interest. I did this a couple of times at camp and realized…I didn’t have to do this.

I came of of the closet over 15 years ago and I didn’t want to have to repeat that over and over again with each person that entered my life. Each potential friend.

So I resolved to NOT say anything (I mean, unless something obviously physical or romantic was about to happen). The assumption that I’m straight because of the lack of clear and obvious “gay indicators” is not my responsibility. It may be possible that I left someone confused (“why isn’t he interested?” “Why isn’t he reciprocating?”) this past weekend, or perhaps they were just engaging in innocuous affection…but ultimately I realized that I don’t have to outline my sexuality for anyone…unless I felt like it.

That in itself, was pretty damn empowering and a lesson I’m going to take forward in life.

5. Camp is transformative.

There were five moments at camp that moved me in particular.

The first was watching the sun setting over the Colorado River, feeling the warmth on my skin and the weight of the paper in my hand. On the paper, I had written down the three things that were holding me back and I felt them weighing me down. As I made my way to the bonfire in silence, I held the paper in my right hand and recited the three things over and over: “I need to let go of letting my inner critic putting me down…I need to let go of letting others dictate where my life will take me…I need to let go of all the ‘should haves’ and focus on the present.” I burned the paper and sat down in silence, eyes buried in my hands. Softly, a women started vocalizing…a melancholy sound that was punctuated with grief. I looked up and saw the other campers arriving with their papers in hand…and suddenly I was overwhelmed with all of the pained energy surrounding me…all of the sadness in their eyes. The embers containing the things that were holding them back rose into the air and came back down as ashes.

The second was watching my friend Bruno (his camp nickname) as he nervously prepared to play his flute at the talent show. He hadn’t played it in 7 years, and he had never played it in front of people. I held him by the shoulder and told him he was going to be great. He got up there, sat down, closed his eyes, and played one of the most elegant musical pieces I had ever heard. The entire camp was in silence as the melody played. Bruno sat with his eyes closed, letting the music flow through him…forgetting that there even was an audience. I got goosebumps, and I did shed a tear in amazement of it all and for him, and for feeling proud of what he had accomplished. Afterwards, I told him how amazing it was, and he brushed it off, but ultimately accepted the praise. He knew it, and I could see that he was changed.

The third was during our wedding ceremony. Let me explain. One of the activities that was promised was a wedding. We were all going to get married as a commitment to ourselves or to another person. At first, Fidget (the camp director) called up real couples that were celebrating anniversaries at camp, followed by those campers that were married or had partners that couldn’t be there. They recommitted to those loved ones as a group on stage.

When they were asked to return to their seat, we were then asked to close our eyes and to stand up if we had ever opened up our hearts to someone else and opened up a room inside of it for them, only to have them leave, abandoning the room, leaving our hearts feeling emptier than before. We opened our eyes and found the majority of camp standing. A women in the front began to cry openly. Big, heaving sobs as campers around her tried to comfort her.

The camp counselor continued: Even if this person that left our heart open and vulnerable, even it had hurt and maybe made us hard and impenetrable to others…even if the thought of them leaving us still brings us pain…we have to forgive. We can only forgive…so that we can live…and open the door to the room in our hearts once more.

My hands were spread out to the side, palms facing the stars…my eyes were closed…and I saw my ex…and I hurt. He had broken my heart when he left…but I forgave him in that moment. I let go of the anger…of the pain. And I became unburdened. I felt the tears on my cheeks and didn’t stop them.

The fourth was at the pool party on the first night. I used to be the fat kid growing up and I’ve never shaken it off. I never took my shirt off at pools or the beach, even after I lost all the weight and even after hitting the gym and working out hard for the past 7 months.

But that night, I realized…nobody knew me…nobody knew that I used to be the fat kid so it didn’t matter. I took my shirt off and the world didn’t stop spinning. I went down the waterslide, participated in the human whirlpool, and joined in as we all did a group cannonball around the pool at the same time. This is what this was supposed to feel like: not being worried or burdened about what others would think.

The fifth moment happened as I typed on an Underwood typewriter on a bench overlooking the Colorado River. I had been struggling to put my thoughts and emotions onto paper for the past few months and there was something about the slowness and forced intent of the typewriter that allowed me to make a simple change in the way that I approached my writing. Instead of focusing on the accuracy of the portrayal of my experiences, I simply transferred the story over to fictional characters and immediately reveled in the freedom that that gave me.

It shifted something in me and the creativity began to flow. The sound of the typewriter and the water in the river combined to create this shift and I wrote a short story about a pair of lovers meeting underneath the stars who shared their dreams with each other.

6. You’ll make friends, as long as you let your pre-judgements go.

When Bruno first showed up at our Fox Village introductory meeting, I was immediately annoyed. Here was this guy with a thick Spanish accent, cocky attitude, and who thought he was funny when he wasn’t.

I knew I was going to try to avoid him at camp.

And then something funny happened. We broke off into smaller groups of 3, and we were instructed to share our biggest fears with one another. Of course I ended up with Bruno in my group. Damn it. Oh well. I shared that I was scared that my being gay would be perceived as a threat or something and that my fellow cabin mates would close off or reject me. Bruno looked at me and asked if I was serious, and I said that I knew it was a bit irrational considering where we were, but that it’s something that’s always on my mind.

Much later, as we were walking together to an event or dinner or something, he asked (with a look of earnestness on his face that took me aback) again if I was genuinely scared because the idea…the concept was so foreign to him. I don’t remember the rest of the details of our conversation but we continued to talk, and each moment bonded us closer together as we learned more about each other. I helped calm his nerves before the talent show and congratulated him on an exceptional performance afterwards.

We sought each other out during free time and sat near each other to talk about life and relationships. We made sure that we needed to be where we were supposed to be at important meetings. Of course, I was concerned that this might be perceived the wrong way, but I let go of that, and realized that this is how friendship, regardless of orientation, happens.

What a strange feeling.

Bruno and I promised to meet up “in the real world”. And just like that, the guy who I thought was a jerk and not worth my time turned out to be one of my closest friends at camp and possibly in “ the real world”.

7. You’ll miss camp and your fellow campers

When I got back after driving for four hours from Marble Falls to McKinney, I opened up my camp inbox and read all of the letters that my campmates had left for me. I was overwhelmed with how much I missed them and I longed to go back, and it hadn’t even been a full 24 hrs. We will never have those moments again, as they are unique to us and that time in camp…luckily I made friends with a lot of people from Austin and we resolved to meet in the real world as soon as I moved to Austin at the end of this month…and that includes my good friend Bruno.