Transition from Squam

playing with clayboard and pastels

I'm having trouble finding the words to write about my experience at Squam this year.

There were no earth-shattering epiphanies like last year. There was no breakthrough achievement of driving solo to NH in my little Civic to join a camp full of strangers for art making. There is no all-encompassing high to carry me through these first few days back at the office.

There is contentment, fatigue and uncertainty about what comes next. Sometimes there is even a disconnect, wondering if it really happened at all.

But it did happen.

Because there were gentle insights, and smiles and hugs. There were reunions, tears of joy and the witnessing of transformation before my very eyes. There was much, much laughter. There were silent tears in the forest, comfort in deepening friendships, and exuberance in song. There was celebration, growth and art. There were chilly nights by the fire, stars on the dock, and honest conversation. There were pauses and snapshots along the journey to capture the moment.

I don't know how to process this yet, why the disconnect or where to go from here. But maybe that's OK. This is my transition space; there'll be plenty of time for specifics later.