“Telescope Hands” is my tribute to everyone who has ever done something for the first time—to anyone who has ever been new. (Pssst, that’s all of us!)
At camp, we focus a lot on the power of moments. If you take your hands and make a little telescope, something my amazing Lolanders really enjoy doing, you get to pause for a moment.
You get to zoom in.
I invite you to do so now.
Oddly enough, the more we embrace how different each of us is, the more compassionate, cohesive, and united we become.
Time is also an element I grapple with on a day to day basis. I mean, how can a day at camp feel like a week, and the weeks feel like days? How can I slow down or speed up to be exactly who I want to be? How can I acknowledge that when things
are hard, they will pass? I wonder who my close friends would be if I were simply born 10 years earlier, or
10 years later. This song aims to break down age barriers, as well, which is, perhaps, why I find some of my favorite friendships are with nine-year-olds.
Campers have helped show me that it’s easier to notice and appreciate things when you look at them with wonder, when you simply decide to find the wonder—whether it’s a sleepy piggyback ride up to the tents after Rainbow’s End, CANDY DAY, or watching a single blade of grass twist in the summer wind. I think we’d all be better people if we walked around with hand telescopes 24/7.
You have come so far to get here
I have come so far to get here
and you can sit with me
Keep your hair up, let your guard down
barefoot you will walk without a sound
and I will walk along, I will walk along with you
Make your hands into a telescope
see the world around you full of hope
can I play with you, teach me how to play,
I’ll join you
’cause boredom is a choice, hopeless is a choice,
you told me
Standing by the lake you tug my arm
growing yourself up, you might feel harm
but I will write you back, I will write you back I promise
I will write you back, I will write you back