History

My days off have each been unique. Most have no adgenda though they seem to just fall into place offering the rejeuvenating time needed away from forms, bandaids, ice packs, first aid kits and the never ending line of kids at the door.





A while ago I had the pleasure of joining old friends for lunch. With this group of high school buddies, its easy to laugh and enjoy just being together. Its always my pleasure to get them laughing. Watching the eyes light up and feeling the old belly laugh. We have years of being together to back our interactions and it always just feels good to be together.





After lunch, without any clear intention, I somehow took a wrong turn and ended up at the camp I attended some 30 years ago. It was a trip to walk in and see so little changed. The uniforms were the same, each kid looked like someone I might have gone to camp with. There was a creeping sense of anticipation as I wandered through this place which had so positively impacted my life.





Oddly, I was invisible. The kids just walked past me engagged in their conversations and the world of camp. This was as it should be especially as became flooded with emotion simply crying for not good reason as I peered into the dinning hall, the jewlry making shed, the spot where I painted my paddle, then melted into a puddle of tears as I sat in the empty (thankfully) boathouse which was my "home" at camp. The degree of emotion around returning was surprising. I'm still no sure I can explain it. I just sat and sobbed and looked at the view, reclaming some part of me I'd left so many years ago.

After the tears dried and I felt fit for company, I wondered through the main part of camp. THe camp has a large asphalt area in the middle of the woods. In the old days, this was for dancing. Now chairs form a large circle. Looking down on the circle, my memory filled with significant moments which occured on this space. Two times during my summers here, the TV was brought out for us to see the news... man landing on the moon and Nixon resigning.
Wow, I saw history take place here. Wait, I was part of history taking place here. I haven't experienced that sort of feeling before;knowing I'd been a part of history and the history was a part of me and this does that mean we are making history for kids at camp? Could it be that we are facilitating significance in these kids lives?

The Living Organism

I have become part of this rolling, living organism called camp. Each day, while there is underlying consistency to the routine, there is always some new unexpected component. The boundaries of the start and finish of the day blend into this living event called camp. I am busy from morning to night with a pace that feels comfortable and an environment within which I thrive. Each day these projects just roll into one another and I move from one to the next with an uninterrupted focus. Its quite lovely.

It doesn't hurt to have the loveliest office EVER. Picture a pine wood floor and walls with a large stone fireplace with the wood staked and ready to go ( or on these rainy days the fire burning). The wall opposite the fireplace is lined with windows, all wide open now, looking out over the lake, called Moose Pond which stretches over to Pleasant Mountain. This is my favorite time of day with the sun streaming through the windows; you can hear the birds chirping, the water lapping against the rocks and smell the pine which seems so potent here.

Available for the use of the nurses in the center are a refrigerator, coffee pot, electric tea pot, Internet, private bath and shower...all the comforts of home. There are six beds in our sick bay half of which are now made up and ready to welcome whomever may need respite or care within the health center.

My quarters are actually separate of the center. I have my own little cabin with an extra cot and desk along with electricity and to my great pleasure and surprise- wireless reception. No cell phone coverage here but I can Skype out phone calls and phone home each night.

There are so many things I'd forgotten about at camp most of which are fun to experience again: mosquitoes and their way of finding any available resource for refueling. Chipmunks tame enough to scurry under my fee to peruse for tidbits. The sound of the wind through the trees and of rain moving across the roof. The sense of wind through the hair while sleeping (thank goodness for Kate's sweatshirt with a hood 'cause it has been cold). The kind of sound sleep all the fresh air brings. Doors creaking and banging shut in this wonderfully familiar way. The happy chatter of like-minded people collaborating through the day. The internal quiet after a day of physical activity and sense of accomplishment. Motorboats moving across the lake. A ukulele in the distance. Loons calling across the lake. Laughter echoing through the woods and the hooray of a game won. The sense of perfect contentment which arises from merely observing the stillness of the lake at sunset and sunrise.



I'm so impressed with the young staff people I'm meeting on a daily basis. Someone new arrives each day and part of my job is to complete their health forms. So far, the following countries are represented: Ireland, Hungary, Mexico, Israel, UK , Australia, New Zealand, Zimbabwe and South Africa. This is a bright, congenial group. It has been a pleasure getting to know them. Just being around their positive outlook and exuberance is inspiring.

Today, I was up early enough to watch the mist rise from the lake and a family of geese swam by, Mom, Dad and 8 chicks. Pretty cool.

We'll see what natural wonders occur next week. Until then, Aloha!

I was one of those kids who loved camp and as a young adult kept threatening to write a book entitled, Why Isn't Life More Like Camp. Instead of writing the book, however, I made life more like camp. Living off the grid in Northern California, I piece together a most interesting life. Now, with this blog I can share pieces of my life which are all a part of what I consider living well. Starting, of course, with returning to camp at age 54 to be a camp nurse.