Growing Beyond Ourselves on the Kern River

Have you ever sat in a moment and truly felt the weight of its importance? Knowing, as you were living it, that this is one of those moments that will stay with you for the rest of your life. Recognized that it was one of those scenes that will linger just a second longer when your life flashes before your eyes? I’ve felt this many times in my 4 years sober.

Racing my grandfather to the top of the Mayan Ruins, Kohunlich and Dzibanche. Watching the fireworks on the fourth of July with my dad on his boat just outside of the Santa Barbara harbor with “Chicken-Fried” playing over the speakers. Laughing hysterically with my mother and aunt after we took Grandma on Space Mountain at Disneyland. Letting tears fall down my cheeks when we finally made it to the Grand Canyon, and I marveled at its beauty.  Waking up in an A-frame cabin in the middle of the woods near Lake Arrowhead, to make breakfast and sip coffee with the love of my life, and thinking to myself for the first time, “I think I’ll marry this one.” I’ve been blessed by so many of these moments in my short four years of sobriety.  Most recently though, I sat around a campfire with 41 other sober alcoholics, from all over the world, who by some twist of fate, some pattern outlined by a power greater than ourselves, had all arrived at that specific campground, on that specific weekend, together.

I’ve planned one of these huge group camping events every year for the past four years.  It has become a pretty well-known kick-off to the summer. This year in particular, I had plenty of beautiful discussions with people about how their experiences on these summer camping trips really pushed them out of their comfort zones, forcing them to face fears and conquer social anxieties. I related to that on a deep level.  I’m not necessarily the “outdoors” type, and large groups of people bring out my inner awkward. These camping trips require a lot of teamwork, helping each other to make large dinners, and set up tents; a real sense of community starts to show, and that is usually intensified when we gather around the campfire at night and start to share our experiences.  

One of the fears that came up quite often when I was discussing with everyone was this social anxiety and extreme isolation that so many of my friends had been feeling leading up to this trip.  In regards to our late night discussions around the campfire, one friend said:

“I almost didn’t go on this trip because I had been feeling very depressed for a few days. I was isolating for a couple months and it started affecting my emotional sobriety. I debated inside my head for about 45 minutes whether I should let all of my thoughts and emotions out. And finally I did. I felt so much better and more comfortable after I laid everything out on the table. No one was judging me. They all understood how I was feeling. It was nice not having to hide my feelings anymore. I was able to enjoy the rest of the trip to the full extent that I could.”   – Sam B

I spoke with another friend about this as well as well.  Coming into the event, he only knew one or two people, though his wife was a good friend of many of us.  He explained to me:

“Since my wife is pregnant and wasn’t feeling up to being outdoors or sociable, all my nerves came into play immediately.  I couldn’t use her as a buffer. This is where I want to thank these people. Even though I felt like I had to get myself out there, not once did I ever have to.  The people that planned the outing made dinner the first night, and I was asked if I wanted to help put cheese on the burgers. I wasn’t the only one asked to help, and if you’ve ever grilled out you know it doesn’t take 6 people to man a grill. They were inclusive, and after that it was easy.” – Corey V.

Another concept that seemed to come up a lot in reminiscing on this trip was character defects – those aspects of our personalities that lead us to make poor decisions and ultimately hurt other people.  For me, my biggest character defect is CONTROL. These trips are a huge test for me, because once the planning is done, the campsites are booked, the carpools are set, and the activity tickets are purchased, I have to learn to sit back and let things flow.  Another friend of mine experienced the same troubles. She said:

“During the Cornhole tournament I got really excited to compete and was starting to get upset when I wasn’t doing well. I decided to step away and take contrary action. I cheered others on and made sure I encouraged people. During the water events, I’m a thrill seeker, so I always look for a way to make things dangerous for myself. This weekend I took a step back and enjoyed the ride.”  – Ashley Y.

All in all,  I’ve learned so much from finding the courage to plan events like this Kern River Summer Kick-off.  By facing my own defects head on, I grow each year, and let go of my controlling mind set. I learned that this false need for control is fear based, and of no use to me, and had the absolute privilege of watching my friends walk through fears as well.  Opening up about our fears is the first step, accepting the hand offering inclusion or assistance is the second step. So often we are afraid to accept help, afraid to step out of our comfort zones and feel “apart of”. Taking that step may leave us vulnerable, however, it also opens us up to a whole new world of opportunity.  I think Corey V. said it best when he told me,

“My favorite part of the trip was learning about all the amazing things people had done or are in the process of doing. That may sound corny or cheesy but it’s probably less lame than my real answer …. which is making friends.”

Moving forward from this trip I’d like to implement this amount of inclusivity, being vulnerable and overcoming fears into my daily life.  I’ve been practicing by reaching out to people that I wouldn’t normally reach out to, saying yes to social events even when I feel my nerves creeping in, and opening up to other people when those fears and thoughts of “I’m not good enough”, or “I need to be in control” take over.