This past Monday, three of our squad’s teams piled into a bus and began our journey to Talamanca, Costa Rica. We spent about 8 hours on this bus before beginning our unpaved road journey. The poor bus had to cross a few small rivers and very VERY bumpy hills. Soon enough, the bus stopped, and we were told that we had arrived. Except, we hadn’t. We had to walk to reach our base. The air was thin, and I am seriously not used to any elevation above 6 feet. Right off the bat, we were climbing uphill. I spent most of that time, taking the deepest breaths ever and not inhaling any oxygen. Right after the pickup truck arrived and a few of us piled into the truck’s bed. Riding in the back of the pickup truck became the highlight of my week.
We arrived at the base and settled into our rooms. I sat on my bed, and a bat flew across my face. It was at this moment that I realized that few things shock me anymore. I sat there calmly and continued unpacking, who have I become? (haha)
This week, my homework for my college classes comprised of two tools for leadership — the Mood Curve and roles in administration. The first tool ended up being an exact representation of our week in the jungle. We have the Honeymoon Phase; when you start a project or experience. You are excited, hopeful, and can’t see how this could go wrong. I was in the Honeymoon Phase for most of Monday. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was ecstatic.
Next, we have a downward curve, alternatively the decision zone. This zone is when everything starts to show it’s true colors when the project begins to show where it can go wrong, and when you begin to have doubts. The decision zone is within the downward curve, and it is the pivotal moment in which an individual decides to push through or give up. It’s the moment that has dictated the outcome of all of our lives. I started going downhill when we were told to put mosquito repellent, grab our raincoats, put on rain boots, and grab a flashlight. It was about 3 pm at this point, and I was particularly curious as to how long we’d be walking if we were going to need our flashlights. We walked up and down rocky hills for a long time and then walked down the muddy and sticky hills of the jungle.
I was completely aware that I either survived this entire walk, or I didn’t make it to the house visit. You can’t exactly drive a pickup truck through the jungle. At one point, all I could think of was that I didn’t complete the 2.3-mile hike at training camp because of my back. At the same time, rumors started to fly around that we would be walking this much every day. I couldn’t quit any of this, but the temptation was still there. I had hit the decision zone of the trip. Looking back, I think about what would have happened if I had tapped out. Would I have missed out on all the house visits? Would I have missed comforting a girl my age who was mourning her brother? Would I have missed hanging out in a coal fire kitchen with women from the church? Is it possible that I could’ve missed meeting a woman who said her parents originated from the same Colombian indigenous tribe that my grandmother mentioned? Quitting doesn’t teach us a lot of lessons; it just reassures the belief that we can and should tap out when things get hard. Pushing through, even if it hurts, allows us to live out our potential.
Where in your life have you hit the decision zone? Where are you ready to quit or happy to be complacent in? In what ways can you prepare for the inevitable downward curve while you’re still in the honeymoon phase. Write down encouragement before you need it. Ask other people to identify when you’re hitting the low moments. I would’ve lived in complete shame for not having overcome the challenges to see the reward.
Big things are set in front of you, are you going to quit before you reach them?
