A huge part of Outward Bound, whether it be Outward Bound USA or North Carolina Outward Bound is the act of circling up and coming together for debriefs, reflections, or planning.
During the second night at NCOB for our spring retreat with the Kurt Hahn Fellows (those involved in the educators intitiative), we enjoyed a dinner with the residents and staff at NCOB base camp at Table Rock.
They come together for meals and have a communal space for the kitchen and eating. Before the dinner, just as happens on course, there is a coming together in a large circle — people clasp hands and speak of appreciations for one another, they talk about plans — it’s essentially a moment to recognize the community and your reliance on those people with whom you belong.
As I looked around the circle, I thought about our own crew circling-up during course and before our meals. It’s a novel experience. Some people buy in, some people don’t — they always feel a little bit uncomfortable (but isn’t that what OB is about: finding your stretch zone and living in it). One reason we liked it so much is it was novel — it was something we weren’t used to and it symbolized some lofty ideals about the submission of the individual to the collective.
These last five years represent both a continuation of how I’ve lived my life since I was 12 and a change. It’s the first time in a long time there has been some stability in my occupation and living situation. Even though I’ve moved from house to house, I’ve been part of the same residential school, teaching. More than that: I had known many members of this community from my time there as a student; I had also understood in what ways this community works.
However, my life and work is still part of a school schedule. Every year some people come and some people go. Every four years, theres a complete turnover in part of the community. The faculty is in transition from year to year.
I woke up this morning with the Beatles song in my head:
There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
Though I remember I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I’ll love you more
In my life I’ll love you more
I used to struggle a lot with this idea: that people were like meteors in my life. They appear out of nowhere, they light up the sky, destined to fade into the darkness of memory. You try to hold on to the moment for as long as you can, but it’s bound to pass.
Kurt Hahn, founding father of Outward Bound writes that
Your disability is your opportunity
and I think I’ve spent a great deal of mental energy trying to ignore the disability of instability, of flux, of constant change, and I think I’m beginning to see how I can turn the challenges of developing community into opportunities for adventure and personal growth.
