By: Shuki B.
One word that evokes the strongest of emotions. That sudden throwback to a place and time that, even while living it as children, we understood would never come again. A wonder world of excitement and happiness. Each moment meaningful.
The other bunk was wild and noisy. Ours- quiet, secretly eating pizza. The whispered jokes, even funnier when misheard. Shabbos. Zemiros around the table, soulful and beautiful, excitement seeding dancing. And after, the Friday night walk down the camp road under the stars. The air cool and dry. The road smelling of summer: leaves, grass, and yes….
A world I shared myself with, and one that reciprocally fashioned so much of who I am. Friends and memories became part of my heart and Neshoma. Songs and alma maters, still sung all these years later, some as silly as meaningful.
Many have similar nostalgia for yeshiva or seminary in Eretz Yisroel, perhaps a more serious version of those camp years. The hours invested in Toras Hashem, chavrusos, in the company of Gedolei Torah and Talmidei Chachomim, all as we shteiged into who we are today. Soulful satiation.
As time passes, how often do we think back and reminisce? Those wellsprings of inspiration, so often drawn from as we make our way along life’s journey. Do you ever daydream about reliving a day or two of your best memories? I do.
A reality check tells me just how much of my life is a direct part of those special times. My very essence is a continuation of all the magic that was, and it continues to exist within me.
Because I never let camp end at the last bus ride. I stayed in touch with my friends. And as I matured, I copied the experiences, rebuilding it in new places. That is how I learned to take a special experience and own it.
I just came through a comparable, albeit dissimilar, seven weeks. Evocative. Emotional. Delightful. Elul, Yomim Noraim, Sukkos. The first shofar, Kaparos, Ne’ilah, and Simchas Torah, watching my grandchildren dance. If you were fortunate enough to feel it, you know how rarefied those days are, and the impact they have upon the year and life ahead.
Now comes the part camp prepared me for. Not letting it end. Owning it.
These immediate days matter most. The inspiration is still warm, and what we commit to now is what takes root. So I commit myself to be unrelenting with my goals in Torah, Tefillah, and kabbalos. And to only lift and build a fellow Yid, because that’s how we lift ourselves. Every word, every interaction, the way a bunk once lifted each other without even trying.
Camp taught me to own a peak experience. Elul through Sukkos is the greatest one I’m given each year. I intend to carry it into who I am, and who I am yet to become.
What are you holding onto? Who will you lift, so as to lift yourself?
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