Post assignment submission, and motivation levels are at a steady decline.

The only thing that motivated me in the past was the requirement of posting something non-course related, which for the sake of my writing and my engagement in the course I may have to return to.

On the weekend just past, I ran a camp for 31 young people from all over Victoria, aged 14-18 years old.

On the Friday night of the camp, we arrested the group for the following offences:
a) failure to actively create the life you want
b) failure to take ownership of your own life
c) failure to live up to your potential
And then held a trial accordingly.

On the Saturday morning, we pushed the participants and ourselves to our own physical thresholds, creating a tough mudder exercise course that was completed over an hour and a half and culminated in a giant soap fight. We asked the participants to track their thoughts throughout the process, particularly the voice in our heads that urges us to give up when things become difficult.

Reflecting on this experience, each person on the camp was able to pull an extraordinary amount of learning from the activity which they could apply to other areas of their life. I realised that its a fairly similar voice that tells me to give up after a ten minute jog as the one that tells me not to write my weekly posts until 9.30pm the night before, or the one that presses the snooze button at 7am.

Saturday afternoon, we created a series of activities designed to push participants to practice the learnings they had discovered through the tough mudder activity. My activity involved each participant singing on stage in front of their group, and if the participant began to ‘cop out’ in any way (i.e. not backing themselves, making a joke out of it, mumbling etc), then I would throw water bombs at them. The balloons represented the criticism, both internal and external, that we are faced with everyday and must push through for the sake of our performance.

Saturday night of the camp was a chance to show a side of yourself that people don’t get to see very often, a side that we need to show more in order to get what we want out of life. Participants sung, acknowledged others in the room, tried to mend their broken hearts, told the group that they were beautiful, danced and read pieces of poetry. To sit among a group of young people embracing their vulnerability in such a powerful way was the type of inspiring that you can only write about with cliches.

I feel so lucky to live the life that I lead.