At the end of the year, I like to think about what inspires me, so I can incorporate more of that into my life in the year to come. I recently registered my kids for the sleep-away camp they love for next summer. As many of you know, I adored my sleep-away camp as a kid, and even met my husband there. So I've been thinking about what it was that I loved so much about camp, why the thought of it still pulls on my heartstrings, why the friendships I made there still matter so much to me. Honestly, I think there's more to it than I'll ever fully understand. But here's what I've been thinking:

At home, I had taken on the role of "the good child," the one who could be counted on to always be obedient, on task, successful, achieving. It was a self-imposed striving for perfection. Socially, I felt something like an alien. I was a brown-skinned Jewish kid in the South in the 70s and 80s, always the only Jew in my class. The elementary school I went to had only just been desegregated. There were white kids and there were black kids and I seemed to be neither. I felt different, and it made me shy and awkward.

The summer camp I went to was for Jewish kids, mostly from the Southeast, but it drew campers all the way from New York to Puerto Rico. And it opened a whole new world to me. I didn't feel different there, didn't feel like an outsider trying to fit in. My darker coloring wasn't so unusual. I even felt pretty at camp, which I never felt at school. And over my first couple of summers, I learned that not a whole lot happened if you broke the rules. And so I did. By the time I was 12, I was swearing in three languages (thanks to the Israeli staff members and my Puerto Rican friends ). I was sneaking out at night to do raids. Sometimes I was a leader. Sometimes I wasn't. Sometimes I was clique-y and mean. Other times I was caring and inclusive and encouraged others to be so as well. I cussed out counselors if I thought they deserved it. I was probably a huge brat.

But here's what it comes down to -- at camp, I was free. There were virtually no boundaries imposed, which meant that in each moment I could just be me. And because that me was loved and accepted, it made me shine, brought out my best self. And so I lived for those four weeks every year, when I could crack open my shell and shine. Down the line, waaaayyyy down the line, I learned to be that self out in the world. But sometimes I wonder how much longer it would have taken if I hadn't had camp to show it to me.

Now, as I watch my own kids enjoying a similar type of camp, I see it working for them. It's not that their home life or my home life isn't or wasn't wonderful. It's just that the real world doesn't always afford us the kind of freedom that camp life does. We do need to try hard, we do need to achieve, etc. But I see their camp selves, their best selves, shine in a way that's incredibly beautiful.

So what's the point of this you're probably wondering (if you've actually read this far).... The point is that freedom is inspiring. It feeds our souls. So as I look to the year ahead, I will be looking at ways I can afford myself more freedom, ways I can step away from 'shoulds' and 'have tos' to free up some space around me to make room for my best self to shine. 

My New Year's wish for you is that you too are able to find ways to honor yourself with a little more freedom, so that you can indulge in being your best self. It's true that not everyone has the freedoms we have, but I try to honor that with gratitude rather than guilt. So find freedom where you can, gift it to yourself. You'll be happier, and the world will be a better place for the light that you share.

Happy holidays!