Tbird's Window Sill: The Decision to be Happy

My summer at Waycross has come to an end. Things came to a close in a series of ups and downs. We held "staffirmations" (affirmations for staff). It's a big step up from my first year's affirmations. Even from last year's. Over and over people said they looked up to me, or that I was an inspiration to them. It touched my heart. And I realized that my relationship with my peers had everything to do with my change in attitude. After my freshman year, I decided to be happier and healthier. Last summer, due to that, my relationships were stronger. I wasn't as afraid to be vulnerable as I had been before. But I didn't really have it all figured out yet. Honest and kind living was new to me. I'd just come down from a tumultuous time. My heart was in repair. And I certainly won't say that I have it all figured out now. Happiness is a skill that needs tuned. I spent the past year spending time with people who lifted me up, doing things I loved, and getting my head on straight. Once summer hit, I pushed myself even further by developing my vegan lifestyle and by exercising. I firmly believe that my relationships with people this summer had everything to do with my intentional happiness. I don't really believe you can be happy while focused entirely on yourself. It's the most selfish people that are the most unhappy. I don't believe you can be happy if you focus on your conditions. What happens to us has little to do with our happiness--it's our ability to bounce back from those events that define our happiness. Once I began to embrace that, life became more exciting, and I genuinely believe I became a more accessible and better friend.

When we'd finished staffirmations, I ran through the rain, carefully holding my papers to my chest so they wouldn't get wet. The Main House was cold and empty. I wasn't prepared to let down enough to cry, but I sat in silence for a while, reading and re-reading what my friends had written about me. I was so overwhelmed. I talked with James a while then we all moved in scattered groups of two or three to the chapel. In a big circle reminiscent of staff training reflections we began our closing. We were supposed to say something we'd learned and would take home with us. I said my belief that people can change. Alex opened up in the most honest way I'd ever seen from him. Ben cried in front of us. Mallory exposed her hidden insecurities. Heather expressed her fear to leave. I'm not sure that we answered the question we were asked, but I think what was said was needed to be said. I hope everyone left a little lighter.

At dinner, Barb made us a feast. She used her mom's recipes and did most of it by herself. She made me a whole vegan tray full of things that probably cost her too much. The kindness nearly brought me to tears. Then James read aloud a letter from one of my camper's mother. She thanked us because he'd said Waycross was the first place he'd really felt at home since they moved. She said he talked about camp until he fell asleep and that he felt a part of something important. Then I cried. There had just been too much.

After that was bowling in clothes from the costume box and sleeping in the New Cabins... but I prefer to remember our dinner together. A labor of love on Barb's part and a moment of communion for us. And writing this now I'm crying again. I'm going to miss the hell out of those people. "Never to be created in precisely the same way again." I'm scared. I don't know what next year will be for me. I don't know if I'll still be a counselor or if I'll move up. I don't know if Sara will be there or who will be director. I've never felt this sense of insecurity regarding my future. It's never felt so immediate to me. I'm going to be a junior. I'm over half-way done with my college career, and all I can think is that I don't want to ever leave summer camp.

I want to get kids muddy, and hold their hands when they're homesick, and sing Love, Love, Love once a week for the rest of my life. My heart is hurting, but it was time for me to come home. I'm happy to be here. I really am. But a part of me will always mourn my second home--my sanctuary. My Waycross.