Reflections from the Shores – Bryan Gnehm

Hello,
Wow,
It’s so strange to be standing here right now. For those who
don’t know me, my name is Bryan Gnehm and this is my 12th
summer at Kawaga and 5th on staff. It’s surreal, really surreal, to
be standing here today. I always know I wanted to give a sermon,
but not coming back last year I thought I would never get that
chance. Yet, here I am.
Today I would like to talk about time. I have two larger points
I want to touch on, but before we get to that I would like to begin
by sharing a stanza from one of my favorite poems:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained within time past,
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

I have been lucky enough to spend many years at camp with
my fellow 2020 CITs. Malcolm Newmark, Jacob Blackman, Ethan
Wardy, Justin Jacobs, Jack Decker, Owen Shaw, Leo Singer,
Josh Ziren, Jordi Beltran, Tomas Ocheli, and Jonah Satyr. I am so
grateful for the time I have gotten to spend with all of you, and I
feel so lucky to have been part of our age group. Time moves in
weird ways at camp. Sometimes I feel like I fell asleep Mohawk A

summer, and woke up 8 years later. As the years have gone on,
to paraphrase Now Camping Men, ‘men by men have been called
away.’ Today, of the 12 of us in my age group, only five remain. I
reminisce on this, not to scare, or draw out any sadness, but
rather with the hope that it elicits in all of you reflection on how
special, unique, and truly amazing having an age group of your
own is.
I view each and every member of my age group as brothers,
and love them like family. For those of you who have brothers, or
sisters, you know siblings don’t always get along. I remember my
Mohalk A summer getting into an angry shouting match with a
cabin mate after rounds. I, I shamefully remember talking bad
about one of my brothers behind their back CIT year. I remember
a heated argument breaking out into a verbal fight CIT year in
cabin 27. I could go on, but I don’t want to fixate too much on the
bad, because for each negative moment, there are countless
happy memories as well. But I bring up the bad moments to arrive
at a point. Not every single moment with your age group is gonna
be fun. Some will suck, sometimes you will feel angry, annoyed,
and sad. Not every single moment with your age group is gonna
be fun. But every single moment with your age group should be
cherished. Every moment should be cherished, and appreciated,
not only because in every bad moment there is room to grow, to
mature, and become a better man, but because before you know
it, and faster than you want it to come, you will be standing here
where I am today, having seen so many friends, and brothers get
called away.
Tonight, when you go to bed, in your cabin, as we brace
ourselves to play Minominii, I would ask that each of you look
around you cabin, at your fellow cabin mates, and cherish the

moment. Be it a good moment, a bad moment, a neutral moment
or a boring moment, all I would ask of you, is that you hold it dear,
and cherish it.
With regards to time, the second theme I want to touch on is
the ways in which we spend our time, and the ways in which we
view our time spent. The ideal reads, ‘reach into the future, but
never forget the past.’ In my past I remember and will never forget
my group 1 summer playing soccer against Minomini. I would
consider soccer to be my sport. I played it since I was 5, and
played all 4 years in high school. (Pause) In 2019, my group 1
summer, we lost soccer in a PK shootout. It broke my heart. I
remember sitting next to the archery shed crying with Jordi. Just
sitting and crying. Most of you, if not all of you, will lose at least 1
hard fought game this weekend. That is inevitable. That is a part
of the future we reach towards but cannot change. What we can
do, is, when that defeat comes, when that final whistle blows, and
you find yourself sitting against the archery shed crying, you can
let yourself cry. You can be sad, or angry, and you can be
heartbroken, but… but you must stand up. You must learn all you
can from that loss. For sure let it fuel you, and remember the
feeling and the sting, the pain, but don’t let it consume you. Never
forget the past, but do not live in the past. Our time at camp is
precious, and if we spend our time dwelling on defeat, looking
back rather than forward, then that precious time is gonna slip
through our fingers all the faster. The ideal speaks of the future,
and past in actional ways. We Reach to the future, we Never
Forget the past. But all action, all action is confined to the
present. To now, to today, to this hour and this minute. Make the
most of this hour, because so fast, this hour will be one of the
many you’re trying not to forget.

As I wrap up this sermon I would like to share an anecdote
from a few days ago. In preparing to write this sermon I was doing
a lot of reflecting about time, and times relation to camp, and
subconsciously I counted the days left. That day, there were 18
days left till the end of the summer. When I realized, I felt a
crushing sense of despair, a pit of sadness opened within me. I
believe this is my last summer at camp, and knowing that, and
knowing there were only 18 days left, I was devastated. By the
way, this all happened in the morning, during breakfast. I was
standing up by the kitchen getting coffee, being devastated, and
Ty walked over. He filled his mug with coffee and asked how I was
doing. I told him I wasn’t good, and told him I was thinking about
how much time was left in camp. He smiled at me, and said, ‘oh,
don’t do that,’ and walked back to the head table. He was right.
That morning, I became entirely consumed by the prospect of the
future, so much so, that I was failing utterly and completely to live
in the present.
I know talk of time, and reflection about how much time is left
in camp can be scary. It scares me. It makes me sad sometimes
too. And I don’t want you to leave the rec hall today, stressed, or
anxious, or worried about the time we have left. And if you do, if
you find yourself caught in it, like I did, heed Ty’s words and ‘don’t
do that.’ No, instead, I want you to leave the recall and make the
most out of today. Whatever it means to you to make today
special, do it. Think about your age group, your brothers, think
about how special it is to be with them, here, today.
Thank you,