When I say that I’ve never been much for the woo-woo (coined by the other Jen), it’s both true and not true. I’ve never been attracted to organized woo-woo – somehow, the idea of someone telling me how I should do something so incredibly intimate just makes me want to grr. My own brand of woo-woo is deeply, irrevocably internal. Religion as a subject fascinates me to no end, but I can’t truly identify with any one particular label. Which I guess is why Tryst is such a good fit for me. =)
I’ve gone through a lot of personal changes since the previous camp. I’ve shed a lot of self-doubt, along with almost 40 pounds. My whole outlook on life has changed to a positive one, and I feel brighter, lighter and more content than I ever have in my life – so when the Trope was mentioned, I felt like I didn’t really have anything to contribute to it except my respect for those people who did.
I think that I was in the first group of people to visit the Trope. There weren’t many messages, and most of them were written on the boards that made up the structure. But the moment I crossed the threshold, I felt my internal woo-woo perk and a quote that I have held close to me came to mind. I wanted to physicalize (is that even a word?) the idea behind the quote, and I remember being filled with an oddly quiet anticipation as I watched the Trope be dedicated in so many idiosyncratic ways – through ritual, through emotions, through shared memories.
I watched the torches be carried around the perimeter, and as the Trope was lit and the fire rose my wish for my own message came true. I watched the sky, tracking each and every message that was left in that Trope as it became a fiery beacon that darted across the night, manifesting every single hope and plea into physical form.
It was amazing to hear the entire camp go quiet. The aura of respect and thoughtfulness was overwhelming.
And we did it. No one else. WE did it. Each of us. Every single person there made it happen, and I’m grateful for the people who came up with this idea to give us the space to do so.
What was my quote?
“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was ending, she turned into a butterfly. I am becoming.”
Oh lady! Your description is wonderfully powerful. My cynical meter wonders if the shivers are because of a sudden breeze through my NOT air conditioned place this afternoon. The tears are what they are though!