It's been a few months.
As I’ve said over and over, I’m not good about keeping a
regular blog but every time I come back I feel the need to make some sort of apology to whatever readership remains. So, dear reader: thank you for
returning to read my sporadic thoughts, and I am truly sorry I haven’t written
a word on here since January. Lots of things have happened since then! One of
the biggest of things is that I just got back from camp three weeks ago… I
would say “got home”, except I’m kind of at a halfway landing point right now
because in exactly twenty days I’ll be moving again, but permanently this time.
More on that later. Maybe I shouldn’t start posts with bombshells and leave
people hanging… but I guess you have to keep reading now. (:
June 7th: “What an odd first weekend it’s been…
I’m not used to being here before the rest of the summer staff, and it feels
off somehow. Peaceful, yes, but almost too still and sleepy. We’re living in
Sylvan probably until the end of the week, which only adds to the strangeness.
I think just being able to really move into my room for the summer will help me
feel like this is home. Because it doesn’t yet. I’m used to feeling that
wonderful rush of ‘I’m finally back’ as soon as I set foot on camp for the
summer, and it hasn’t hit yet…”
July 5th: Excerpt from “The Small Work in the
Great Work” from The Impossible Will Take
A Little While (the book I read with my coffee every morning before
standing on the porch singing with fifty kids before breakfast): “Our mission
is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope – not the prudent gates of Optimism,
which are somewhat narrower… nor the flimsy, cheerful garden gate of
“Everything is gonna be all right.” But a different, sometimes lonely place,
the place of truth-telling, about your own soul first of all and its condition,
the place of resistance and defiance, the piece of ground from which you see
the world both as it is and as it could be, as it will be; the place from which
you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle. And we stand there,
beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what
they see.”
“Camp has a way of distilling life – all of it, things
within and without – with such terrifying and beautiful clarity. Last night
Ellie and I wondered if perhaps it’s because time is so closely measured and
the days so full that when we do find ourselves with breathing space and time
for introspection, we value it more and use it better.”
July 12th: Another excerpt from an essay in The Impossible Will Take A Little While,
entitled “The Green Dream” by Mark Hertsgaard: “Optimism is the belief that
things will turn out well… Hope, on the other hand, is an active, determined
conviction that is rooted in the spirit, chosen by the heart, and guided by the
mind.”
“Sunday morning again, and how are these long weeks flying
so quickly? Hiked the mountain just before seven o’ clock and reached the top
in time to see sun-flecked trees and remnants of mist lingering above the river.
We ate breakfast sitting on the sideboard in the craft hut – hummus with
crackers and avocado and peanut butter toast and berries, and my heart and
stomach could have sang for joy because it wasn’t camp food (though the thought
of a singing stomach is kind of terrifying)… Yesterday I visited Bek, toured
Enola, and took the loveliest three-hour nap on my future bed in my future
room… because yes, that’s right, I am for real moving in with her at the end of
September! Part of me still can’t believe it’s really happening. Living on my
own! Cooking for myself! Having adventures! …The next two months, especially
the time beginning right after camp ends, are going to speed by in a blur of
final (forever final) weeks at Chick-fil-A, starting my last semester, and
packing up my life in boxes. Also goodbyes. But I’m not – or, trying not – to
think about those yet.”
July 14th: “I bought an ENO hammock this weekend
and it just came in the mail today! I decided to carry it in my backpack with
me like a little potential nap waited to be unfurled. I tested it out for half
an hour this afternoon between the trees behind the office – worked like a
dream. I wrapped myself up in it and gazed at the world through a film of
brilliant orange…
July 22nd: “Wednesday already, and only two and a
half weeks of programs left. I don’t think the finality of this summer has hit
me at all yet… At the same time, I’ve been missing people more than ever this
summer… Charlotte
especially. Last week Ellie and I were talking in the big tree by the pasture
and she said out of the blue, ‘I miss Anna and Charlotte.’ ‘Oh! Charlotte !’ I said, and as
soon as the name was out my eyes filled with tears. Didn’t help that last week
I just missed the whole world. Even for all its loveliness, sometimes camp
feels like such a small pocket in a forgotten corner of the universe.”
August 15th (after it was all over): “Saturday,
exactly a week since I left camp for the Nissley’s house. And what a week…
Somehow, I think that blurry weekend full of long walks and leisurely snacking
and henna dyeing and heart-to-hearts with Anna and Ben and Jason offered some
kind of protective shock absorbent to keep the camp-to-real-life transition
from hurting so much.”
There, a few introspective snippets from a full summer, and
they really only describe such a small part of everything that those
nine-and-a-half weeks were. Nothing about how hard it was to transition from
counselor to summer program director (confusing, lonely, challenging, exciting,
and sometimes purely exhilarating when things finally began to click) or all
the late nights and laughter and tears and struggles and inside jokes… some
things can’t be explained in a blog post.
As some of those journal entries alluded to, I had a lot
more on my mind than just camp this summer, which maybe accounted for why it
felt so different this time around (more of a temporary landing than a “this is
home”). Yes, I am moving to Enola next month! (For those who don’t know where
that is, it’s about ten minutes from Harrisburg .)
This was something that has been in the works for months now and was finally
decided in early July. I’ll be moving out on September 19th (also my
half birthday, hooray!). My first week home was spent packing up at least half
my things and looking for jobs within biking distance of my future dwelling
place, considering I won’t have a car until I can afford one. One week after
camp ended, I found myself with a definite part-time job at a bakery and café
about five miles away. Then, just this past week, I accepted another job at a
coffee shop in Broad Street Market in Harrisburg .
If I’m doing the math right, I’ll probably be biking an average of fifty miles
a week... oh my.
Trying to plan for a permanent move, begin my final semester
of college, finish the last few weeks at my current job, and say goodbyes well…
it’s a lot to juggle (and looks even more awful when written out like that –
gahhh!). My room is currently an absolute train wreck of clothes strewn
everywhere (because what are hangers?), empty and partly empty cardboard boxes,
a few remaining books that have started to pile up (where do they all come
from??) and a new road bike that I keep tripping over in the dark. I’ve never
done this before. I’m excited, and also scared. Mostly just really really
really freaking excited though. I am hoping to blog somewhat regularly again,
especially as a way of staying in touch with hometown friends after the
transition.
So, that’s life as of now and some of what life is about to
become in twenty days. Cheers! Hopefully more soon.
PS. Finished reading The
Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer a week or two ago. It was some of the most
honest and heartfelt writing I’ve ever encountered about joy and connection and
sharing and vulnerability and you should probably just go read the book. It is
excellent. I might actually write a post about it sometime. So… more
substantial thoughts pending, potentially? Thought I’d throw the recommendation
out there though if you’re looking for great things to read this fall. I also
started Daring Greatly by Brenè
Brown. She’s wonderful. Here’s a link to a couple of TED talks by both of them:
