Letters from the Lake: When the Water Settles
Flow isn’t about ease — it’s about letting things move through you.
Okay…
Well, the honest thing to say is: it’s gotten easier.
The first few days here were chaos. Everything came fast. New names, new systems, new routines, and no sense of left or right. It was like trying to stand still in the middle of a whirlpool.
But now, something’s shifted. The pace is starting to settle. We’ve found our rhythm — or at least pieces of it.
And just as we start to exhale… the next layer begins.
The campers are here.
They’re joyful. They’re loud. They’re growing in real time.
But they’re also homesick.
You can feel it in little moments — the way a kid stares out over the lake a beat too long, or lingers after dinner just to be around adults who feel like “home.” They’re having a great time. They really are. But they miss their people. They miss what’s familiar.
And while our kids seem to be thriving (Axton is full throttle; Ande is living her best camp life), the homesickness has found us instead.
Not because we want to leave.
But because… well, we feel untethered.
Something about being here — away from our usual work, routine, and support system — has stirred up this quiet question:
Where does this version of us fit in the rest of our life?
It’s unsettling in moments. Disorienting. And honestly, kind of emotional.
We talk about going home every day. Not dramatically — just in that half-joking, half-serious way you do when something’s stretching you in uncomfortable ways.
But we stay.
Because we know why we’re here.
We’re here for our kids.
We’re here for the growth.
We’re here to do something hard on purpose.
And even though it’s not always easy to be philosophical when you’re sweating through your second pair of socks, or calming a camper through tears, or navigating personalities that clash with your own — this is what growth looks like.
Messy. Inconvenient. Unscripted.
And also? Beautiful.
Because it’s working.
This week, I’ve leaned hard on the Pilates principle of Flow — not as an idea, but as a real, daily survival skill.
Not everything here feels natural.
Not every interaction lands perfectly.
Not every day feels fulfilling.
But instead of gripping tightly, I’m learning to let the experience move through me — the frustration, the joy, the doubt, the clarity. Like water.
Flow isn’t the absence of challenge.
It’s the refusal to get stuck in it.
I’ve been watching one of the Associate Directors here — Leslie — and she embodies that so fully. She handles problems like they’re just another part of the landscape. She doesn’t react — she just responds. With calm. With clarity. With grit.
I admire it so much. And honestly, I’m taking notes.
Because when we build the Well & Often community club — I want that kind of grace under pressure. I want to move through life like that.
It’s not about being unshakable.
It’s about staying in motion without losing yourself.
And speaking of that…
Next week’s theme is one I’ve been thinking about a lot:
A Return to Ourselves.
After all the movement, the change, the newness — what does it mean to come home to yourself again?
To land.
To reconnect.
To remember who you are, even as you become someone new.
We’ll talk more about that soon.
But for now — thank you for being here.
Thank you for reading.
For following along.
For giving me a space to think out loud and feel things fully.
It means more than you know.
I hope you’re finding your flow this week — whatever that looks like.
—xo, Caroline