I believe - and stick with me here because this will take a minute - that there is a space, a little cushion of air or energy, that exists around each of us and it is through this space that we engage with the world.
Think of it like this - you're not smashed right up against the people and things around you, even those people and things you love the most, because that would be terribly uncomfortable and entirely unsustainable. Imagine taking a step back to see something, to bring it into focus - it is the space that allows you to see. The space that enables us to appreciate something. Anything. Everything.
This fact was pointed out to me years ago by a Sofer, a man whose job it is to write the Torah in ink on parchment with a quill and without error, or punctuation. It's a long story, why this man was talking to me about the space, but he was. He was in the midst of giving an example of a parent coming home with a new bike and it was like a lightbulb was suddenly switched on inside my brain. I remember, in that moment, seeing with total clarity that this is what summer camp is all about - it's about making space to see, to appreciate each other anew. It's about giving my kids space to be independent, to appreciate home. It’s about giving me the same.
Tonight, on the eve of the first day of the sixth summer at overnight camp, I told Lucy this story - again, for the umpteenth time. I reminded us about the beauty of the space, and that I believe.