20/20 Vision

We once had a crystal chandelier at my house in Hudson, Ohio. Now don’t be fooled, we weren’t millionaires or even remotely wealthy. I’m fairly sure that my dad had bought it as a slightly damaged item at a salvage store for much cheaper than it would have cost new. But as a boy, it looked extravagant and expensive. Now I was about to tap into my six year old memories and undertake a search for an extremely valuable “treasure” of jewels that lay hidden around the campsite in the form of chandelier crystals.

This was Tuula’s doing. She had organized a treasure hunt and promised prizes for the ones who collected the most gems. There were two sizes and they had corresponding values. At a signal, about eight of us spread out and began searching for these items. I was, however, at a disadvantage since many of the items were hidden in people’s flower pots and shoes. I was not about to overturn the living spaces of strangers in a quest for victory, so my probes were tentative at best. But Tuula, in the gleeful excitement of the moment, wandered by a couple of times to point out the locations of hiding places to me. This she did for several participants, and when all was said and done, everyone had at least one diamond to show for their efforts.

Time was called, we reassembled at our starting location, and points were tallied. Though squarely in the center of the pack, I had won big! I stood, swaying and dazed, thinking about all of the debts I would soon be able to repay with my…two hugs. But that wasn’t all. Each of us got a free cup of coffee as well. In addition, I garnered a sheet of kitten stickers and an authentic gold coin! (Which melted after I stuck it in my pocket and forgot about it) More than all that, someone had left the wheelchair unattended and I finally got my chance to try it! I was a rich man indeed.

I was told to report to the camp office and have the manager add me to the campsite of one of the families there, but when I tried to do this, the lady said not to worry about it. She was very generous to our group. I think she must have been happy for such a large number of friendly people renting so many sites for so many days. She even brought us pizzas at one point. As a way of saying thank you to her, I bought about fifteen dollars worth of novelty ice cream treats. One of which I immediately gave to a little girl whose mother had sent her into the office to ask for something. She chose the Cornetto, but the rest of the treats I passed out at camp. (Except for the Banana Paddle Pop, which I claimed for myself)

While waiting to go to the lake again, we passed the time playing different games. I brought out some Mind Trap riddles. Chloe and Maisey had us play a game where different objects were named and different answers given in the hope that some of the players would crack the code and figure out what the game was about. Then there was Assassin. When I had arrived days ago there was already a game in progress , and a new round would soon begin. The idea was that you drew a name out of a hat and that person was your target. It was a lot like tag, except it was elimination and there were a lot more rules. You had to be within 5 meters of a person to eliminate them, they had to be alone, and the bathrooms and tents were safe zones. (This didn’t apply to pistachios, however, and on one occasion they were scattered in people’s beds for some reason.) I opted out of Assassin as I knew I would likely (a.) take it too seriously, (b.) end up immediately eliminated, or (c.) be far to stressed about it to be able to enjoy my stay and relax. Later, more games would be added to the list, but for now it was time to go back to the lake. 

This time I didn’t go near the water, but stayed up under the trees on a towel and relaxed. One brother named Jodie Sara was playing a ukulele, while Maisey and others were picking at their guitars. I talked with people, listened to conversations, ate watermelon, and just absorbed the atmosphere. There were stories. There was laughter. And there was something else as well.

The last time I was here, I ended up sitting next to Tim for a few minutes while we were waiting for the boat to come back in and pick up another group of people. He remarked on how peaceful it was here and how relaxed and friendly the atmosphere was. While we often see videos depicting a future paradise, what we were seeing here was as close as I had ever seen to it in real life. The peaceful scenery of the lake and sounds of laughter around us; the distant tones of happy people talking together and enjoying each others’ company; older ones and younger ones spending time together without their faces shoved into phones. It was all so simple and so peaceful. Tim remarked that it’s always a glimpse into paradise for all of them, and a reminder of a time to come when every day will be like this, after each full day of refreshing and fulfilling work.

The Stapletons had brought their dog along: a bipolar Chihuahua with multiple personality disorder. She would walk over to someone, sit down, affectionately press against their leg to elicit a pet, and then try to bite them. She was very photogenic though and once I learned to respect her space, our relationship improved.

By six o’clock we were back at camp and had dinner in the kitchen together. I was offered a mince taco, which made me nervous until I realized that mince is what they call hamburger meat here. There followed a game of “Articulate” , which involved trying to get your partner to guess words and Monopoly Deal (a game which I previously hated and now enjoyed immensely). Eventually midnight came around and we adjourned to the giant chess board for a quick game and then a quick line dance as the clock flipped over to 12.

Then everyone pretty much went to bed and that was it for 2019.

I braved the mozzies and stayed out in the open a little while longer looking up at the stars. There were so many more than I was used to seeing and they sparkled against the subtle band of light stretching across the sky that was the Milky Way.

The year was now 2020. Those numbers can refer to seeing clearly, as in 20/20 vision. Hindsight is also said to be 20/20, as we often look back with greater clarity than when we are looking ahead. Now, I’m no numerologist, but I thought it would be a fitting year to see sweeping changes on many fronts internationally or possibly a significant year to look back on in years ahead. Of course, things will happen when they happen, but here in Australia, the new year had been heralded by record-breaking bush fires ravaging the country, worries over climate change intensifying, and a virulent new strain of disease that was just beginning its terrifying spread. Yes. It had the potential to be a year of change, not just on the world scene, but also in a personal sense.

New years stopped being important to me a long time ago when I had come to the realization that the last day of the previous year was esentially identical to the first day of the next. Despite the personal resolutions made by many as they cross the threshold from one year into the next, the truth is that significant personal change hardly ever followed. They would be another day older and the world would be one step closer to paradise, but otherwise it would be just like any other day.

However, 2020 felt different. Not only was it a new year, but I was beginning it on the other side of the globe in a new land. It seemed significant somehow. It wasn’t that time would impose a mystic change on me, but moreso that I was at a unique crossroads. I had the chance to impose my will on my life and reshape it; possibly reinventing myself in the process.

I had once read a book about F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald called Careless People. According to the author, the couple had moved from one end of the US to the other in pursuit of ‘the American dream’: “that by moving to a different place, you could become a different person; and that identity was merely incidental“. The Fitzgeralds of course learned, as had many before them, a very important lesson: that personal change wasn’t achieved through geographical relocation, but only through self determination and force of will.

I was determined not to return to Ohio without having accomplished something deeply personal here and broken my own mold to make important tweaks to my personality; to be more kind, more patient, and more joyful, among other things. After all, the point of this epic journey was to find a part of myself and leave a part of myself behind. This had happened at least three times before in my life: once in Columbus, Ohio; once in Monessen, Pennsylvania, and once in Cleveland, Ohio. I once, half jokingly and half seriously, likened this process to finding pieces of the fabled Triforce from the Legend of Zelda game series. Lemme ‘splain. No. There is there is too much. Lemme sum up.

I had once played an open world video game where the objective was to travel around the map, explore new areas, and collect pieces of a mystical artifact that would restore harmony to a shattered kingdom once the component parts were reassembled. In real life I had found that I often discovered a new part of myself each time I moved to a new place. Not because I was in a new location, but because my circumstances were changed and this allowed for personal growth. It was similar to recontextualizing a word and changing its meaning.

Significant also, now that I think about it, was the fact that in each of those locations I met a caring elder who took a personal interest, mentored me, and really made a difference in my life.

I had been a character “ripe for change” back in 2019, but what I had really needed was a shakeup; a “call to adventure” as it were. I needed to go walkabout. I hoped that this voyage around the globe would allow me to find the final, missing piece that I needed in order to become the person I very much wanted to be.

In my youth I had read many stirring tales of heroes undertaking epic and transformative journeys, but now I was finally experiencing one myself. I had roughly two years to write a story worth reading and an ending worth remembering.

But that would come in time. In the more immediate future there was something else that was in desperate need of a renovation, and the year would begin with a transformation of a different kind.