Esprit 1999 Aftermath

I had been warned a thousand times that the joy would be followed by great grief. The emotions I felt during Esprit were a warning to me that something very profound was happening. I knew it was coming and it hit me hard when it did.

To the casual observer, this whole affair would seem like nothing more than a trip to Disneyland. You go, you have a fun time, you ride a few exhilarating rides, and you go home. You remember the good times and you get ready to return to the drudgery of the 9-to-5 job. Nothing could be further from the truth. To some extent, the above applies, but it is really insignificant in the bigger scheme of things. The forces at play during Esprit are much deeper; they go right to one's very being.

I had dreaded the coming of the Sunday afternoon luncheon. Of course, I wanted to see everyone and say good-bye, but it also signaled the official end of Esprit. As soon as I stepped into the car and left the parking lot, it would be officially over. But, there was still a long drive ahead of us, a ferry ride, a rendezvous at a JC Penney to return some loaned clothes, and with everyone still dressed it was hard to feel like it was really over. I guess that helped...at least the letdown was gradual.

The ferry ride home was beautiful. I had an opportunity to get up close and personal with a little black lab puppy I met on deck. I asked if I could pet the puppy and the owner said yes. He had rescued the puppy after it had been tossed from a truck. I don't know what it looked like to everyone else, but there I was in my dress, crouched down doing the kissy-kissy thing with a puppy. The owner didn't know or didn't care who I was and I appreciated that very much. Dogs are great...unconditional acceptance! It was a little emotional boost that did me a lot of good.

The end of the ferry ride was a saddening event because it meant the trip was almost over. I must have shown it countless ways during the ride home and Jennifer could clearly sense that I didn't want the trip to end. I even made a wrong turn on a freeway ramp...some kind of Freudian slip? 5 of us converged on Claire's house to unwind, repack, and undress before going our separate ways. When it came my turn to use the bathroom, everyone could tell I was hurting. Me too. I spent a long time in the bathroom just staring at myself. Not that it's a particularly pretty picture all the time, but it was a picture that I didn't want to put back in hiding. With each piece of clothing I took off, with each pass of the towel over my face, I shuddered long, deep, shaking breaths. It felt like I was dying...and the rubble of my losing battle was slowly piling up on the floor alongside me. Finally, it was done, and I wandered back to join everyone.

We sat in Claire's backyard in the early evening light and reflected on what had transpired. I'm so glad we turned it into a chat session because everyone had something very weighty to share. When it came to be my turn, everyone looked at me, and I promptly started crying again. I told everyone that the week had been so easy, almost frighteningly easy, that it confirmed many of my deepest feelings about myself. It also cemented many of my deepest fears as far as the consequences for the remainder of my life. It would have almost been easier for me if the time at Esprit was uncomfortable or unnatural. Instead, I found that I didn't even have to try to be Ginger. I finally was me, and it wasn't make-believe anymore. Ginger blossomed during Esprit into a very colorful personality, far more interesting than what was ever seen during my little 3 or 4 hour exposures to the world in the past. I likened it to the endless scarves that magicians pull out of their magic canes...in the past, all that Ginger could ever accomplish was to show her outward appearance...just a peek at the first few inches of the scarf.

And then the scarf would have to be stuffed back into the cane.

Esprit did something very special. The scarf kept getting pulled farther and farther. People saw more and more of my outward self and the continuous pulling succeeded in drawing out my inner personality which had never seen the light of day. I discovered that Ginger is a bright, caring, intelligent, sensitive individual...and I like her. And she's me, too...so that means I like me. I've never been able to comprehend thinking that way about myself, and it's very special to me that I now can.

Our talk that evening was very profound. I find it paradoxical because a 4 hour talk by itself without Esprit would have been meaningless, and none of these feelings could have come out during Esprit. It was only afterwards, in a glaring moment of clarity, that the emotions can really be experienced. I would recommend a peaceful decompression session like this for anyone coming home from Esprit.

Esprit's butterfly motif is very appropriate. Sadly, the fragility of the butterfly is an apt metaphor as well. I felt like I had finally succeeded in a gallant struggle to break free of my cocoon, to spread my wings in the sunlight, only to be crushed by a falling tree. The days following Esprit were very difficult (for a wide variety of reasons) for both me and my wife and remain so. My depression is easing as the self-discoveries are simultaneously firming up. I have countless memories to wrap my arms around and many new friends to start talking to. I am certainly looking forward to the next Esprit, but in the meantime, Esprit '99 will give me plenty to work with for quite a while.

Back to Esprit 1999