The Spaciousness of Yes

As a New Yorker, I am accustomed to living in what are relatively small living quarters. I grew up in a rural town in Florida, with a back yard and access to woods and creeks, and when I moved to New York in 1998, my building had more people in it than the population of my town, all stacked on top of each other. I love where I live and all the benefits of a big city, but getting to travel to Maine each summer is a gift. Along with the incredible theater, fun activities, and beautiful nights of star-gazing, summer in Maine brings with it a sense of openness and ease, a sense of spaciousness.

I have been reflecting on spaciousness as I prepare for this summer. It seems crucial, as this summer is a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel that has felt very closed-in for some. Yes, the Great Lawn and the breeze at the top of the hill bring a sense of open space, but there is also an internal spaciousness that Ghostlight provides me each summer as well.

During the year, campers and staff alike balance the "prescribed" and the "desired" every day. Homework, tests, reading, rehearsal, practice, no matter in-person or virtual, begin to fill not only their calendars but their minds as well. Sometimes it can result in stress, or if they are like me, it results in habits of "busyness." At camp, we allow campers to focus on fewer things each day. Classes, activities, and rehearsal all support and complement each other. The energy of one flows directly and seamlessly into the next. By anchoring our day in the four Ghostlights, connections between a cappella class and music rehearsal, or arts and crafts and Roses and Thorns, are easier to make. The intentional connection-making supports presence and gratitude practices by allowing campers to invest fully in the task at hand without worry about things undone or lingering.

A natural sense of spaciousness happens internally when "switching gears" becomes irrelevant.