A Break in the Clouds
by Ben Graham
September 29
The dinner bell has rung at Arcadia; it echoes through the forest. Eleven Arcadians pile into the kitchen like a herd of bison. The chaos escalates: chatting, bickering, and laughter can be heard from outside. As for me, I am quiet, fully absorbed in the complexity of my thoughts. I enter the kitchen; it is a zoo, but I hear nothing. My thoughts have taken over, and wall I want is to build a damn fire! I jerk myself back to reality and begin to join the never ending conversations, filling my plate with tasty grub provided by our assistant directors, Nate and Eva. It is only 7:15 p.m., and outside there a break in the clouds. The stars are glistening, the peeress are peering, and I cannot help but reflect on y post. First I need a fire then I can ruminate about a stronger I once knew, my old self.
It is early, but there is lots to do before the fire is lit. My first duty is cutting tinder with an old axe, a dangerous job if you are not careful. For me it feels like a rite of passage. After it is split, I lug my fresh kindling and split wood to the outdoor place to begin my next duty. Starting a fire is one of my favorite things to do. These are many ways to start the fire-building process, so there is really no right answer. To me the log cabin structure seems most efficient for a quick fire. I begin with four slender sticks which will serve as the foundation to my fire, and I lay birch bark at the heart of it. From here, I place small kindling around it, building the walls up like Lincoln logs. Twigs are spread around my foundation for extra support, then with one light, the small cabin I built goes up in flames. A fire has been made.
The fire gives me a place to let my thoughts wander. I am happy, I am relaxed, I am alone with my thoughts, but they are not yet bearable. Although my life is finally moving in a linear direction, it has not always been this way. As the fire burns, my mind wanders into the clouds, and for the moment my body is just stationary vessel awaiting my return.
I think back to spring semester 2023, and class registration for my junior fall is around the corner. After clawing my way through one of my worst years for school, I am at a crossroads. One road is clearly labeled “detour.” This road brings me home, away from school, a journey that would lead me to a life of blue-collar work in a small Maine town. It would be a simple exit for one who does not necessarily shine in the classroom. I know the road I am on now leads to a downhill spiral. I must choose. Out of the corner of my eye, I see another sigh, sloppily made a tacked up beside an old tote road. It reads “Adirondack Semester,” a dream for a person like myself who would rather live in the woods than mesh with society and the norms it wants me to follow. I do not have much to lose. What better way to escape this nightmare than go in the woods and restart? I decide to take old tote road.
After applying, interviewing, and filling out a strong amount of paperwork, I was given what I like to call “a get out of jail free card.” The opportunity to possibly change the course of the nightmare I called life sounded great; my only worry was that Arcadia would soon be a place where I was stuck with myself. Unable to run. This proved to be more true than I have ever imagined.
After getting into the Adirondack Semester, I promised myself that change would come. After spending the summer with my friends and family, I came to realize that my morals were off like a compass near a magnet and I needed to reset. In August, I arrived at Canaras, a place where all the new Arcadians and directors met. Keeping in mind the promise I made to myself, I hid my inner thoughts, putting on my social mask allowing me to interact with my new peers. I come off as a goofy, usually seen doing dumb things, but I find this to be a front for all the real thoughts in my head unable to be shared. I am constantly taking notes, watching, thinking and over thinking, but society told me I am not supposed to show this vulnerability.
Still feeling the warmth of the fire, it is not yet time for bed. I start thinking about the three days spent at Canaras, preparing for a week-long canoe trip through multiple Adirondack lakes, ponds and creeks. This trip was the starting line for the rest of the semester and brought me closer to these people who I would soon call family. It prepared me for life at my new home, Arcadia! This cozy yurt village would be my home for the next four months. Transitioning from society and technology to wilderness and simplicity was rather easy for me. However, that first week here was that nightmare I had been afraid of. I had a hard time detaching from my life on campus, parties, friends and family. I felt out of place, no one was like me, and I was unsure how to act around everyone. Never had I been around such a diverse group of people, especially people with much different outdoor experiences than me. I slowly got comfy in my yurt, receiving letters from those afar that reminded me of my decision to come and keep an open mind as I learn.
The fire seems to be dying down, and I add one more piece and think back to week three. By then I found myself fully settled in and engaged, I noticed my habits changing, my thoughts shifting, but why? No electronics was big part, also hands-on and situational learning. I dug deeper and realized that the thing haunting me most was my past choices and patterns. The more time I spent at Arcadia, the more I found myself alone. I spent many hours sitting and just thinking, overcoming everything, accepting everything. Nothing can hurt me if I just accept it.
Moving to Arcadia is certainly a transition t first, but when you let go of all the things that society wants you to hold on to, life becomes much more simple.
Lose the phone, enjoy the birds and the serenity of life in the woods. Arcadia has allowed me to grow in ways I never thought that I could. I began to realize that patience is key to progress, that a good mindset will help carry me through the semester. As Henry David Thoreau once said, “Not till we have lost the world do we begin to find ourselves.” Now, the fire has died out, and my thoughts are finally bearable. I am going to bed now! Goodnight Meg, goodnight Ruby and goodnight Arcadia. Love and respect.