I closed my eyes and felt the sun beat down on my face. My hair, a tangled mess, whipping at my cheeks as the speed boat literally flew over the lake. The driver likes to churn up the water and then hit the waves so hard that you have to hold on or else be bumped overboard. Water sprays over my skin and dries almost instantly. I think it is the first time I've taken a deep, full, unhindered breath all year. I love speed boats. I love water. I love a good ride.
I opened my eyes to see dark clouds forming in the distance. A voice over the radio told the driver to get back to shore. When we docked, the clouds had already covered the camp and the rumble had begun.
After a cold shower I laid in my bed in my bunk and listened as sheets of rain spilled off of tin roofs. The pattering of water hitting leaves worked to soften the clinking sounds. The walls shook with thunder that boomed right on top of me. I slept well that night.
It occurred to me that I've been bouncing between multiple worlds. A visitor that pops in, experiences a brief moment with strangers or friends, and then switches out to yet another microcosm. Mostly I don't mind. I don't get bored. And by the time I get annoyed with anyone, or they with me, I am off to the next world.
It takes its toll as well, though. By the beginning of September I will have lived out of a suitcase for nearly half the year. I have no routine (of which I need). I have no one present and constant in my life to keep me anchored (with the exception of my phenomenal parents who I love more and more each day). It gets lonely.
It also means I am constantly meeting new people. Something I both enjoy and despise. I am so socially uncomfortable in new settings. I never know what to say or do and much prefer the solace of my own company. I don't have to worry about being liked by anyone but myself and I'm quite fond of me. It's when I'm around other people that I'm reminded of my imperfections and awkwardness. I've made a living out of pushing myself into new situations because I know that life begins when you show up.
The first world of the year was NYC. You all know how I feel about that. It was a tough winter.
Then there was the near two weeks I spent at "home" in Washington. Five days were to unwind from the mentality and exhaustion of NYC. Then the rest was about complete relaxation and hiding away. It is the one place where I am taken care of and where I allow myself to be still. It is also a place that I cannot stay too long for fear of complacency. It is also a bonus to hang out with my mother while we drink wine and find things that make us laugh and then watch Jeopardy with my dad and see how often I can make him laugh (no easy feat). I live for these times at home. One of the good things of staying single for so long is I've gotten to know my parents as people. And what's more...I like them. In this, I cannot express how lucky I feel.
World #2 South Dakota. This was a whirlwind. A single month of working only one job: being a working actor. Sure, I was fundraising for my November project as well but to be honest that turned out to be more fun than I thought. I was sick to my stomach with worry that no one would donate but had a blast making all of those MEMES. (Thank you again to all that donated!).
South Dakota did not provide much privacy but it was exchanged for comradery which is a good trade for the short term. I was challenged and scared which is always needed in permanent personal growth. If there is no fear, there is no risk. If there is no risk, the reward of expanding towards reaching your better self is unattainable. Also, it is always good to go somewhere so completely unattached from your own life so you can remember how big the world is. In my case, you gotta leave a big city to go to a small town to see the big picture.
And now camp life. In Maine. I don't really know how to explain the complete bubble that engulfs you here. Time means nothing. A regular calendar means nothing. You live by the ringing of an outdoor bell rather than a clock. The metallic pinging rings for every event or class or meal. We eat at the same time every day. 7:30am breakfast. 12:30pm lunch. 5:30pm dinner. There are no inbetween meals or snacks. Your days are not your own but instead belong to 280 girl campers. You work up to 14 hours a day and for the most part...you don't mind. I work in the theatre and I listen to adorable girls audition for 101 dalmations; most of which come in with the "cups" song from Pitch Perfect. We work hard and don't always get acknowledged for it since it is behind the scenes. But I am very glad I came. It is different from the last time I was here ten years ago. Or rather I am different. I know who I am this time. My fundamentals are the same as they have always been but I am solid in how I work. I will never be the lighthouse drawing people to me. I am not the popular "cool" girl. I am the smart woman who gets shit done. I am reliable, trustworthy, and honest. That may not make me 1st pick at the dodge ball game, but I'm pretty ok with that. Sure, occasionally I feel left out and I have an infinitesimal moment of middle-school pity party. But then I remember my many worlds that I've lived in. And I disengage from the feeling of pettiness and I remember that the next world is coming soon. On a scale of 1 to Important. It isn't even on the radar. What matters is helping my colleagues out, doing my job, being pleasant (I try), and focusing on those girls. There is some promising talent here. And I'm hoping to help them along.
I'm afraid this isn't the most sassy or inspiring of posts but this is the best I can do after yet another 14 hour day. Now excuse me while I go back to daydreaming of thunderstorms and speed boats.
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