I have been on St Croix now for a full year. Most of what has happened in my time here has surely shifted what will happen for the duration of my life. In the throws of my letting go, something took over and has been guiding me, something here was a beacon, a flicker of a spirit that brought me into my Self. This island is an incredible presence, a nurturing spirit that, like a devoted mother, is relentless with love and forgiveness. All that a world could do to this place, to this old terrestrial body will never break her. The crucian people embody this, the tough love, and thickness in this community is remarkable.
It is nearing that time, to break way from terra, from my tree hugging, toes in the soil, grass stained self. To set sail for the next while, and meet some other islands, and see all over and between their ridges and reefs. Though it is still over a month and a half away that I am set to leave, I am taking the time to come back into what brought me here, and made me stay. To what captured, grounded, and shook me off a fabricated vision of where I was off to. I am recreating the space for transition to slip back into the dresses of movement. My craving of mobility, and my persistent infatuation with it is ready to set free again. The why’s and the how’s and the who’s of this next chapter are out of my realm of imagination. Though I know that my sea legs need be strong as trees and my alignment with the elements in working order. I’ll be leaning on the island, and drinking her all up. I spent a lot of this year trying to get my footing, trying to make money to get by to keep up and to figure out what the hell I am doing. Comes a time though when you just need to call it enough. Spending time with St croix, with visiting friends and family and the ones here has climbed to the top of my priorities for the rest of my time here. Things feel to be back in order.