“Each of us has his own inner concentration camp… We must deal with, with forgiveness and patience-as full human beings, as we are and what we will become.”  – Dr. Viktor Frankl

You may have heard that I’ve been away for a few weeks.  I had the opportunity to lead a group of eight high school students and one of their parents through Ireland on an agricultural tour – along with 23 students, parents, and group leaders from different parts of the country – Oregon, New York, and Texas.  This was the third time I went on a trip like this through EF Tours – that’s “Education First” tours.  The first time was sevearl years ago with my oldest daughter and her classmates to Peru.  Last year, after a COVID delay, I got to lead a group with my youngest daughter to Greece.  This last one to Ireland was without either of the girls.

Now, I don’t mean to compare international travel with high school students to the concentration camps of WWII.  But when it comes to “personal concentration camps”,  it was a lovely trip, but it was work.  Up at 6am Irish time every morning to start coordinating the days events, a near obsessive need to count students every 4-5 minutes while touring the country, and then planning the next day each evening after we were sure the students were where they should be, and not where they shouldn’t be.  Don’t get me wrong, there was also beautiful scenery like I’d never seen before, learning about Irish agriculture and business – something I didn’t think I would enjoy as much as I did, witnessing student light up with new learning and experiences, and, of course, the occasional Irish pint with our Tour Direction, Ciaran, and the other group leaders.

It truly was a lovely time.

But then there was the 48 hour debacle of getting home – hours in a plane not going anywhere, missing connections, an unplanned overnight in Boston with only 4 hours of sleep, and then still trying to find everyone’s luggage today…  It’s no concentration camp, but it will take it’s toll.

Those few weeks – this story – is really just a snaphot of life in general.  Beautiful moments and meaningful experiences intertwined with the bickering of hungry teenagers and standing in a line 30-people deep to see if you will ever get home…

We all have our personal concentration camps.  For me, it wasn’t this trip, or the issues getting home.  When I think about something I’ve dealt with as a “concentration camp” – something that has impacted me negatively for a long time, maybe it’s over-committing.  Or possible just over-doing.  Taking on too much and not knowing when to say “no”.  Always pursuing more, but not necessarily in the way Frankl talks about “becoming”.  It wasn’t this trip that was a “concentration camp” – but maybe a few reminders of what I need to pay attention to in my daily life that keeps me bound.

What is your “concentration camp”?

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