Evening By A Campfire

Evening By A Campfire

John Paul Derryberry

My wife drove home for the evening to sleep in our bed and recharge, and one of my girls sat in the minivan watching a DVD because she needed her TV time, while the other geared up for one last ride around the campground before we turned in for the night.  I sat in a lawn chair, watching the fire flicker as the final rays of sunlight began to fade. A peaceful warmth, mixed with the fire's heat, wrapped around me and helped me let go of any stress I was carrying. It mixed with the smoke and ash and floated into the ever-darkening skies.

The night unfolded as perfectly as it could, with the weather, the setting, and the realization that sometimes the only way to see things as they are is to create the space needed for the larger view to come into play. My girls ran around free, happy, and excited to be at a new campground, and my wife and I finally had no distractions to catch up on life.  It’s amazing how easily, in this culture, we bounce from one distraction to the next without ever coming up for air. You can feel like you are drowning in it all.

It’s weird how all previous successes can escape us so fast; maybe that’s because we all are moving too fast. Wanting answers in seconds, clarity within minutes, and reassurance that we matter through too many channels. I know it all too well: doubt, confusion, and fumbling around for stability. Yet my girls kept commenting that it was great to get a night to camp again. It wasn’t just the girls lowering the cortisol coursing through my bloodstream. It was Anne and me laughing, the breeze, the fire, the sun setting, the clear nighttime sky reminding me that we are a speck on a small planet hurtling through the vastness of space.

Life is messy, so much outside of our control, yet we act like so much of it is. Really, the only thing we can control is our reaction to what transpires, because trying to control what happens and how it happens is a fool's errand. Thoughts of doubt can actually feed moments of success; back-of-the-mind thoughts can spur action to quiet them, or the realization that you have a beautiful family and are creating memories for all of us is enough to say, I’m doing enough correctly to understand I’m living a good life. The girls and I giggled our way to the tent, trading off who got to carry the flashlight.

The campfire flickered down to hot ashes as we crawled into our sleeping bags, cooling as the first hint of an autumn night set in. I’ll wake up tomorrow and try to be the best version of myself I can, hope the things I can’t control go my way, and if they don't, react as the best version of myself. Or apologize to people I care about if I don't.  I’m not an imposter; I’m not my negative thoughts, nor am I bad at everything I attempt to do, nor am I the definition of the best version of myself at all times either. I’m always somewhere in the middle, and I hope that I never lose sight of that, or if I do, I find myself again in a place where I can clear my mind and recenter on life, and find the warmth of a loved one mixed with a campfire.