I'm sitting in my hammock in my sweats. We just all got done swimming. I love being in the water and the sequential feeling of drying off. Things from home are weighing on me so I'm going to write them on a page to burn in the fire. I need a release. I need catharsis.
I'm welcoming campers and directing the cars where to go. It's humbling to experience the initial excitement with them. I feel rejuvenated. Tomorrow I'm taking the day off. After a long, hard, beautiful staff week, I thought it would be nice to take a pause and then be all in for a great start to the summer.
I don't write enough
haikus, life is so lovely
too much to fit in
I wonder if magic can be captured. It's so elusive.
It's incredible to be in a space with such a high concentration of wonderful people. Intelligent, vulnerable, insightful, in touch with themselves and the world.
It feels almost over saturated. I don't know how to explain it. As if I'm the liquid and there's too much solute to fully dissolve and it's left just heavy and unprocessed.
That makes it sound so terrible. It's not. It's just different and perhaps if I warm up, there will be enough room for everything to dissolve, settle in.
Last night Jane asked me if I believe in the universe. She told me she doesn't believe in souls. I told her that my sentience is hard for me to comprehend and my mortality is even more so. It's strange how when things don't matter, it makes them matter more. What the hell am I doing out here, building tables in the middle of the woods? Going to college in the fall? Shopping for decor with a person who, a year ago, teetered on the word hate? I can't keep track of my breaths or heartbeats. I can't keep track and if I think about it I'll go insane.
I'm all for filling my journal up, saturating it to the brink of near creative chaos. Dripping and overflowing. But I've decided to leave the page before this one as is. Minimalistic and beautiful and bursting with emotion and potential. Open.
Everyone has a story. Everyone. You just have to pay enough attention.