One really wonderful thing about cleaning is finally finding lost items or things you had forgotten you owned. I scribble notes, poems, ideas all over any piece of paper or envelope I can get my hands on, so it is also really great for discovering bits of poems to recreate, or ideas to draw from. Recently, I found an envelope with some scribblings that must have come from my subconscious. If they were worth writing and saving, then I believe they are worth sharing.
“That feeling of your heart being so full of love to give that it might explode into a firework of loneliness. It is a funny thing, loneliness. Something we all experience on a frequent basis for some reason or another. Alone. Anxiety. Missing out on spending time with all your close friends because of sickness, or work, or distance. The knowledge of how wonderful it feels to snuggle up with someone, a warmth different than any other in human existence, a warmth of connectedness that grows inside our hearts and spreads outwards, like hot cocoa after a day out in the cold. The connection is a bridge, for the love in our hearts to cross over and fill the holes in the hearts and minds of others. Taking away the fear of a firecracker explosion, one that threatens to overcome our being.”
It brings me back to the days of being a camp counselor. People who you spend virtually 24/7 with for three straight months. Your love for them is so explosive that you don’t know how to handle it, but equally explosive in breaking your heart when it’s over. You solve problems with your co-counselors, becoming virtually co-parents, forming bonds of trust and love that some will never be able to comprehend. Some people don’t understand how you can be so platonically in love with other people, and they never will, and for them my heart hurts. But it also hurts to know I had such amazing relationships and connections, and I often feel as though they are almost lost, remaining only as ghosting memories. My last summer I had a great triumvirate and those two ladies will always always always hold a special place in my heart because we were the only support we had when push came to shove. And we are all strong so we always pushed back.
But I will still always love all those people so much. For late night mischief. For stargazing on the docks. For snuggling up to share our mutual love of Moulin Rouge. For growing up together. For being the strong female role models who were leaders and confidantes. For “fake” sisters, skipping, hand holding, left right left right, bleaching peed in tents, washing trips dishes, screwing up skits, and reminding campers it’s okay to be yourself. It’s more than okay, don’t try to be anyone else, and you better be as goofy and ridiculous for as long as possible, because that is the only way to live life. I’m sad to say my camp is gone, the camp I grew up in, the camp I was a counselor at (but let’s be real, I was still growing up then too, and I still am now). I only hope it has been turned into a place that other kids and counselors can make their own and feel the strength of camp connections and love that I felt in my years there. And as I go out on trail this summer for my month long trek down the Superior Hiking Trail, I know that camp will be in my heart. Camp has brought me to this experience and I am going to take it on with all the strength and love that has followed me here. So to my old camp friends, if you want to grab a beer and catch up upon my return and hear of my travels, I’ll be on trail July 20- August 19. Feel free to send trail notes. And there is an open invitation to all friends who would like to join my friend Kate and I for any portion of the trip. We are entering the serious planning stages, so let us know. My heart is exploding with excitement. Oh, and thanks for the memories.