Day Off

This moment has been three weeks in the making. Private lake + canoe + iPod = paddling across the lake singing "Just Around the Riverbend," and then "Colors of the Wind," for good measure. If anyone happened to be hiking along the Lakeside Trail I hope they enjoyed the show. This is the first really solitary moment I've had to write, and it's probably one of the most solitary moments of my entire life. The narrow vacant beach stretches on either side of me; we just took the label "BEACH" off the trail maps so guests wouldn't flock here. The roofs of Great Camp Sagamore barely peak out of the trees on the far side of the lake. I have no idea how long it took me to paddle here. I didn't think to check my watch.

My morning was relatively productive. A quick 20-minute yoga workout followed by 8am breakfast as usual. 9am staff meeting in the conference room. I made sure to remind everyone about tonight's margarita party (thanks to a generous $400 tip left for us last week.) John, the chef, and I have yet to work out how to pull off frozen margarita's without a blender. Ideas thus far: motor boat rotor; weedwacker; mix-master; hammer. A bike-operated blender plan may be in the works, but won't be ready by this evening. We might have to resign ourselves to 'ritas on the rocks. Such are the sacrifices one must make in the wilderness.

10-12 gardening duty. 5 straight days of rain had taken care of things for awile, but today's high of 90 should leave some thirsty plants in its wake. The dandelions spelling out 'SAGAMORE' require particular attention. One of those letters dies and my negligence will be broadcast to all who can read.

After lunch I finally got around to composing a sensistively worded e-mail:

Re: Intern Educator position offer

Dear Monica,

Yes! I am eager to accept the position of Intern Educator. However, could you give me some more specific information about the training and start date? My current director here at the Sagamore Institute is anxious about my leaving before the end of the busy tourist season. Regardless, I am definitely accepting the position at the BMA, but I just want to ensure that I can make the transition from one mission-oriented cultural institution to another as smoothly as possible without compromising the missions of either. The earlier I know the specifics of this position the more readily my current director can prepare for my eventual departure.

Sincerely,
Erin Silverstein

A good 5 hours of intense pondering and advice-seeking went into that e-mail: 3.5 hours with my incredibly understanding boss, 0.5 hours each with my dad and two co-workers. Of course I'm thrilled I got the job. I really thought it was a long shot without any formal background in art history or museum studies. Now that I had the offer, I could only accept knowing I was abandoning my current gig 2 months early, leaving the lake, Pocohontas sing-a-longs and Sagamore's mission behind. 3 months ago I chose Sagamore over a Critical Language Scholarship; now I had to choose the Brooklyn Museum over Sagamore (not to mention my winter travel plans--Egypt, Turkey, Armenia--all that will have to wait...) Enviable choices to have to make no doubt, but choices none the less.

A butterfly just joined me on the beach. I wonder if she's escaping the rigors of butterfly-life for a moment. I wonder if she's contemplating her butterfly future.

The beach floor is the softest my feet have ever had the luxury of stepping on. The lake water is clear as day, and viewed from this angle by my eyes alone. To think that 2 months ago my bliss was le Parc des Buttes Chaumont, now it's this empty lake, and in 2 months...Prospect Park? I suppose I could sit here on this stump pondering the meaning of it all forever, or I could jump back in the lake and live the present choice rather than smothering it with the future.