loose change

happy july! camp time is different compared to Real World time–if summer could be measured as a year, we’re still in late spring. it’s easy now to forget that the Real World year of 2024 is halfway over. which isn’t to say that we aren’t existing in the Real World here, but more to say that at camp we condense a whole year’s worth of friendships and achievements and memories and emotions into seven weeks.

the campers have been here for a week and change. it’s fun to see them shake off the rust and fall into their routines. it’s a lot of names to learn! i think i’m almost halfway dialed. there are a lot of names that i know, and a lot of faces that i don’t. last week i mentioned coming out of my shell–the campers are doing it too. it’s funny how their personalities shift with comfortability. they ask more questions, they take more risks, they smile more often.

it’s the end of the day now and i’m boldly sitting outside of the office to try and finish this piece! boldly because–now that they know that i’m hip–campers continue to come up to me and ask me questions about my day or about my Real Job or about my Life Story and it’s very easy to lose track of time and writing! it’s also very easy to be Working Constantly. today was the first day i’ve felt like there was little time to be idle. i think that feeling will augment the deeper into summer we get! it’s easier to work hard when you’re surrounding by hardworking people who care a lot about what they do. i’m happy to be interrupted by my gorgeous colleagues who come over to tell me about the crazy night they had teaching a camper how to plunge a toilet or debrief me on jason tatum’s new contract.

i was on the dock from 4-5 for free swim. one of our campers is brand new to swimming. after her instructional beach class, she comes down to the deepwater dock to float in her lifejacket for the entire hour. i am in awe of her. she lacks the kind of fear that you expect from a non-swimmer in the water. the concept of mortality is not on the table. every single day is a new milestone. in one week she’s gone from clinging to the ladder, nervous of drifting out of reach of the dock, to floating 20 yards away and playing on the watermat. she’s working on jumping in right now–it’s the first time i’ve heard her mention fear. jane asked her what about the jump scared her. is it the submerging? is it the free fall? i don’t know, she said. it’s like a primal fear.

jane eloquently walked her through it. it’s your body protecting you. it’s wild–this girl knows that she can do it, that she can jump. she has been so bold and so strong in the deep water, and now she’s learning when to listen to her body. she stood on the edge of the dock with a newfound friend, another camper who is well versed in swimming and submerging. let’s jump together! but our girl was trepidatious–count me down from thirty. so her friend counted: 30, 29, 28 – count slower!!! – twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty – count even slower!!!!!! – twenty – five, twenty -four, twenty – three, twenty – two, and so on.

one girl jumped, and the other in the lifejacket stayed on the dock. we were proud of her. she’s learning to slow down. the first couple of days, she would try to jump in and then frantically reach out and grab one of the posts that supports the dock. every single time she would surface, we held our breath. now she understands: she’ll jump when she’s ready. she’ll take off the lifejacket when she is ready.

it’s now 9:54p–i had this hunch at the picnic table earlier as the minutes ticked by that i’d be here in bed finishing this piece up! i am so thankful to be doing so. another major perk of not having campers: the time allowed for reflection and introspection at the end of every day.

monday nights we have council fire. i’m still riding the high from it, and i’m not sure i’ll be able to find words to explain it. it’s a night where we wear our sunday best and all come together to reflect upon the week prior, to commend campers who shined and to laugh at skits highlighting the highs and lows of our weeks, to sing songs and hold hands and be here. every cabin lines up by unit and files onto the arena into a triangle formation. we sit around a triangular fire pit and celebrate this place that knows us better than anywhere else in the world. two triangles: work, health, and love, emanating from body, mind, and spirit. i have the privilege this year of sitting at the tip of the triangle, of looking out at all of these faces that inspire me, of seeing them look to me to lead them in song. it is an immense honor and one that i didn’t realize would touch me so deeply until i sat there tonight.

we held our first chorus meeting of the week before council fire, and i don’t really have words for that either. i’m blown away by how many people continue to show up, and by how beautiful we sounded after thirty minutes of rehearsal. the song i’ve chosen is simple, but it leaves a lot of room for complexity. a few of us knew there was a three-part harmony in there but it was hard to find. after about forty minutes, one learned song and two full run-throughs, we tapered off and sent everyone away to get ready for council fire.

but the few of us were still hungry for that third note, so we dug for it. we sat there and sang in search of the low harmony for nearly half an hour more, and about twenty five minutes in we nailed it. every part of my body had chills. it was four campers and four counselors working together like magicians, slowly tweaking our voices and spells until we made magic. the talent these folks possess is remarkable individually, and when they come together it’s beyond belief. i cannot wait to show the rest of the chorus what we’ve come across. it left me on cloud nine heading into council fire, which in turn shot me up to the moon. this must be heaven!

i’m feeling immensely grateful to be here, and for all of the circumstances that transpired and people that conspired to allow me to return. it’s been a long time since i’ve felt like i’m exactly where i need to be. i want to bottle this feeling up and remember it the next time i lose sight of the pursuit of happiness.

and there are so many fireflies in maine this summer. it makes me think of michigan, of walking in summertime on the huron parkway in ann arbor, of the queen anne’s lace and the smell of a midwest summer, of the cabin on drummond island, of papa’s red jeep, of crickets and ospreys and petoskey stones. i can still smell it all when i see a firefly. it makes me think of childhood. it makes me feel at home.

anyway, with all of that being said–thank you for reading this week! i hope you can follow whichever path it is that brings you home! walk outside and turn around in a big circle and sip in all of the nature your eyes can see and exhale deeply. i hope this monday piece finds you well. i can’t wait until next week! wishing the sweetest of days and dreams–

xxo, r