Today I stumbled upon my good friend Stuy Lewis' blog. He's from Savannah Georgia and happens to go to school with an old friend of mine, Jeanie. What are the odds? Anyways, I was captured by his words and how they dragged me into an abyss of memories from the short few weeks we have experienced here. "Experienced" is a good word to describe it. I agree with what Stuy writes about, we can't explain what happens and the relationships created here. But, we really want to. So, I thought, "how selfish of me to not try".
I have never been a person to blog or journal, but my friend Tessa, from 4-5 hours north of San Diego, has explained several times to me how necessary it is that I do document my time here. She has been with Invisible Children for quite some time now, so I cling tightly to the wisdom she shares. Funny story about Tessa, I went to bed one night and found a seemingly empty brand new journal sitting on my bed. I first thought it must have been someone else's, do to the fact that I share a room with sixteen people, but as I flipped it open, there was no writing. As my mind raced its inner routes hoping to find some explanation I jumped on the conclusion that Tessa, the only person I've talked about journaling with, had generously given me this amazing journal by placing it on my bed. So, I pretty much had a heartwarming moment where I thought I had just gotten to coolest gift anyone could give me. Keep in mind I'm a foot away from Bryce snoring like Golem speaks, and Jacob slowing rolling closer to being on my bed. So, my heart warming moment wasn't exactly picture perfect or movie-esque. I quickly fell asleep dreaming of what I'd be journaling about for the next few months and how I was going to thank Tessa for her absolutely amazing gift.
I woke up the next day and reached for my new journal to write in. I flipped past the first few pages, the only ones I had looked at previously, and found some very personal writing about someone's relationship. It turns out every person in the room had thought it was someone else's journal and it was being passed bed to bed until in the safe hands of the owner. I'm an idiot.
I often share my most embarrassing stories, so I told Tessa and a large group of people the next morning. Tessa quickly ran upstairs and grabbed an extra journal and gave it to me. She's pretty awesome. I hope I didn't somehow guilt her into that, but... I had to share such a ridiculous story. I mean, how dumb do you have to be to not flip beyond the first few pages of a journal and think it's yours?
Point being, don't think something that is on your bed in a sixteen person bedroom is yours, regardless of how many times you have talked about it with a great friend.
All that being said, I'm surrounded by an amazing group of people that can only be assembled through something unique. Invisible Children is that something. We are a family unlike any other, we are unique, we are strange, we are incredible, we are hard to describe, we are 65 people living in a house with 3 toilets. I love it.
There are so many amazing people in this house and this organization. I think my form of blogging is going to be a bit untraditional. Vulnerability breeds vulnerability, so I think I've got a plan on how to best keep these friendships burning so brightly. We shall see.
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