explore.dream.discover.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

~Mark Twain 

june is probably my favorite month of the year. things are starting to pour in from the garden, the weather is fairly predictable in holding steady with warmer temperatures, summer solstice greets us with long days to fill, my birthday always makes me happy, and june is the time of year when camp starts off. when you get to june, you are halfway through the calendar year, a good place to check out where you've been and where you're going. there isn't much reason to wear socks in june. beer tastes better on a porch or in a hammock and june leaves plenty of room for both scenarios. what's not to like?

this year the manner family started june in mechanics burg, pennsylvania, the halfway(ish) point on our trip from brevard to shelter island. kids slept in til 730 after a previous afternoon of hotel pool swimming and a night of torrential downpours and thunderstorms. we kicked off the best month of the year with a continental breakfast and too many trips up and down the stairs from our hotel room to our car. (did you know that on june 1, 1915 "the love song of j. alfred prufrock was published for the first time? me either! but what a great reason to love june even more!) the older our kids get, the easier travel seems to be. we made the trip to shelter island in just two days this year, which means that by the evening of june first we were gazing out our bedroom window at the view of the bay that will greet us every morning this summer. I didn't dare hang curtains because I don't want to take it for granted for one second, even if the sun does come up so very much earlier here than it does in brevard. 

and now we're just…here. it is so much more than that, of course, but that is the biggest difference from doing this trip now, when we've already been here as a family once before, when our kids are older and wiser and bigger and more sure of themselves. when we know what to do to make this place home. we're already settled in a way that took us more than a month last time. of course, we don't have hand soap in the bathroom yet (sorry, guests!) or know where we keep the spatulas in the kitchen, but we know we are wanted here. we know we have a role in making the summer magic happen. and we know a little bit more of what that role is. we know we belong here, not only because our people (old and new) have welcomed us with arms wide open, but we belong here because of some calling that tells us we have a job to do and this is where we need to be to do it. 

we are here this summer to offer hospitality in all the ways we've learned we are so very good at. to let people sit on our couch or our porch and see what happens next. to hand someone a rake or a shovel and say "let's get to it." to let our kids be a present part of people's lives. to tell stories we've lived and stories we want to live. to listen to other people's stories. to be the weird ones who don't have full-time jobs but do have chickens and lots of time to spare. to say that good food goes a really long way in making hospitality work, that there is always always room at the table. this is what we are good at. this is what we love. this is why we are here.

my word for 2015 is harbor. I can't think of a better place to be reflecting on that word than here beside the bay at a camp designed to offer respite, to be a harbor, to folks that need it most. we've left our safe harbor of home to create that safe harbor right here. when we pack up our life like this I am reminded of how much of home is transferrable. there is a definite connection to place that happens, and I am drawn to those north carolina mountains in a way I can never be cured of, but I know that this can be home, too. that home is bigger than I thought it was. jamin and cora are teaching me that. their ownership of this space is based on what we've told them mostly, and they take it all to be true. "we belong here," jamin's strut to the center of camp says. "this is home," cora's glass jar of seashells whispers. 

there is so much more to say, of course. there always is. there is the work I am so fortunate to be a part of in planning staff training, these kindred spirits we're surrounded by every day. there is pizza to gush about and the story of jamin and cora going up to the control room on the ferry last night and the revolving door our guest room has already been. mostly I just want to be here now and let that be enough. to save the stories for another day while we revel in the harbor we are making real. to focus on the exploration, the dreaming, the discovery part of this adventure. we'll keep you posted on how it all goes.