20/20

This mid-August evening is carrying a tease of Autumn. I can feel it in the way the breeze moves steadily through the tops of trees and in the calm of the temperature. I can hear it in the peaceful chirp of a few stalwart crickets, and in the absence of bullfrogs. I can see it in the washed out greens of the leaves, worn and weary from the summer sun. I can smell it in the crisp, cool, trail left by discreet wind across my face. 

These are things that I am experiencing as I sit on the front porch of camp, my last night on the front porch at camp, my last night of the summer at least. 

This has been a calmer week than any of the twelve or so before it, and it has given me more time to reflect and think than I’ve had in three months and one thing that has come up a lot is the things or ways that I convey things to others. 

I know at least half of the ways that I fail at communication. I know of ways that I wear the blinders of obliviousness, or the ways that I will plow through a conversation in a way that makes sense to me without out once considering how the other person is receiving it. Writing has been my salvation for some of these problems, but I seem to have some big ones left. I never seem able to communicate how I see you. 

Yes, you. The people I know. The people I love. The people I spend my summer with. The people who care enough to read my thoughts. 

How can I ever communicate the depth of what I see when I look at you? 

It’s not just your features that I see, the hugeness of your smile, the color of your eyes, awesome free mess of your hair. I see so much more. 

I see the warmth that overtakes your whole face when you look at someone you care about.

I see the confidence in your eyes when you feel completely and totally in your element. 

I see the excitement that you have over sharing a passion that you have with another person.

I see past your business side to how deeply and unconditionally you care for everyone’s complete well being. 

I see behind your defenses to the vastness of your heart. 

I see the way you push and challenge yourself to grow and learn.

I see the way you have taken your past and turned into a blessing to others.

I see the way you have refused to give in, and refused to back down and let darkness win.

I see the way carry your struggles so as not to burden anyone else.

I see how many people you reach out and care about.

I see past assumptions of heart and thought that people have put on you, to the true fantastic you.

I see the way you let people, small or big, famous or maybe just a camper, inspire you to be bigger, to be greater and to never settle for less. 

More so I see all of this from a lens of complete honor and gratitude that I have the opportunity to know you and the opportunity to see you. 

I can not express the privilege that I feel for the different ways that you all have trusted small pieces of yourself, whether joy or sadness, failure or success, with me. 

I sit on the front porch of the lodge at the end of my fifth summer at camp, speechless at my blessings. Speechless at the pleasure it has been to work with each and everyone of the staffs of 2008-2012. Speechless at the love and care that I feel for everyone of your beautiful, flawed and fighting souls. 

The timer on the porch light has flickered on, casting and bluish tint on the back of my hands and the wind is now bringing the definite chill of cooler weather. In front of me the trees are silhouetted against the deepening blue of the sky. 

I am curled up in the center rocking chair, underneath the window that held the cumulative cabin cleanup scores and free choices of the day. The foot underneath the leg that is holding my computer has been asleep for at least five minutes. 

I feel the coming Autumn in the air and sit and pray that it brings you all a thriving life and that somehow you will see for a moment a glimpse of the way I see you. That you will look in the mirror and see, Beautiful.