“Live with a healthy disregard for the impossible,” is the mission of the LeaderShape institute. Which is accurate, because before attending the program, I would have never believed it possible to not poop for an entire week.

LeaderShape, a curriculum originally devised in 1986, has been present on Towson’s campus for eight years. Most sessions involve multiple campuses, but Towson has developed its own individual program at Capital Camps, a Kosher-keeping historic Jewish facility (which explains the backup in the pipes) located in Waynesboro, Pa.

At LeaderShape, we shaped a “vision,” or an ideal future we would like to experience. Through this vision work, we would learn to lead with integrity, recognize our own strengths, and blossom as a leader for our campus.

Though the language is flowery, the message is sincere and life changing.

As a junior, I had several years of student leader experience: as an editor for this fine publication, as a Resident Assistant, and in worlds of the University Residence Government and Student Government Association. I considered myself competent and balanced in my extracurriculars, my academia, and my unbelievably active social life (cartoons and a Chinese-food feast with my significant other every Friday, followed by a 14-hour coma).

I was wrong, in many ways. I refuse to divulge details in courtesy for those who wish to experience the phenomenon for themselves, but know that my week changed the way I view myself as an individual and how I can influence the world.

There was an editor in this very office with whom I had never interacted, despite having worked 12-hour days in the same room as her.

I heard her unique story, her history, and assisted her in recognizing her unique and beautiful strengths. LeaderShape was all about listening. You respect another individual enough to truly hear, listen and add fuel to their passions, and they offer you the same courtesy.

My LeaderShape class made the point that few close friendships, even relationships, typically address our immediate life goals, our dreams, our inner-desires and our insecurities.

I heard every single one of those. I listened on three hours of sleep, experienced 20-hour days, threw fits, cried, and lamented over the lack of hot water. But I made sure to listen. I can truly say that I was honored to hear the dreams of these 57 individuals.

My primary role as a journalist is to inform others, but also to display compassion and interest. This week enforced these lessons, but also allowed me the opportunity to make myself vulnerable – a rare occurrence for someone on the other side of the recorder – to share my stories.

The most remarkable part of the experience was being without a phone for five. solid. days. OMG, how will I ever Tweet or reply to my mother’s emails? (Which were sent entirely in the subject header) Pure, undiluted human interaction is something I had not suffered since my youth – we always have a cell phone screen to escape to.

It was exhausting. But I sent a total of three texts. And honestly, I couldn’t care less, because instead of making friends with my Blackberry (we were already close) ,I gained 57 new ones.

To everyone who does not believe in their own talents: Stop saying that. You’re wrong. If someone is complementing you on something, they’re probably not just saying that. To all my LeaderShapers: I love every single one of you. Stop blowing darts at me in Susq.