So, it’s official. We are all back at Chewonki. A week of reunions and relaxation and too much turkey later, we are all back together. And as much as I appreciate the breather that vacation offers, I can honestly say that there is nowhere I would rather be today.
Unfortunately, as much as I try to pretend otherwise, the end of break means that we are entering the home stretch of our time here. That has been a hard realization, and I think that a lot of us are still in denial (I certainly am). This has more to it than a simple dread of final exams. I think that we are starting to realize that this is it, and it is final. But there has been something truly special about this semester, something that resists being tied down and put into words. The last few months have been Alive. It seems like every moment throbs with energy, with passion, with joy. It could be something as mundane as a breakfast table conversation, something as wild as a rave, something as insane as a polar bear swim, but every moment seems to have that little bit of zest that love of life, and love of life alone, seems to bring. And I can’t envision giving this up. I’m about the worst prophet the world has ever known, but I know that the day that I say goodbye to Chewonki, and most of all say goodbye to all of the people at Chewonki, the people that have made every minute of this time worth it to me, well, its going to be one of the saddest moments of my life.
And that’s a good thing. Not the departure, obviously. But I’ve discovered that one of the best tests of an experience, any experience, is whether you can look back on it with feelings of nostalgia, including at least a twinge of regret. Aren’t the most cherished moments the ones that you wish you had back to live again, that you can plunge into and relive with all of the happiness that defined it at the moment? And I think that, in a bittersweet way, the fact that I cannot imagine my first night outside of Binnacle, no more leftovers in the Wallace center, no more yoga-ball soccer or stargazing or bake-offs proves just how great and wonderful the months that we have been here have been. I know that the memories I found here will never leave me
But I haven’t left yet. We still have a few more weeks, precious weeks, and I for one intend to make the most of them. Really, that is all that we can do. If my time here has taught me anything (and it has taught me a lot, but that is another story), it is that we have to treasure every moment of the present, living freely and savoring the taste of the life that we live.