You may feel very secure in the pond that you are in, but if you never venture out of it, you will never know that there is such a thing as an ocean, a sea. Holding onto something that is good for you now, may be the very reason why you don't have something better.
~ C. JoyBell C.
The Harvester Island Wilderness Workshop was incredible. I went to write with 11 strangers, and I left with 15 new friends. In the coming weeks, I’ll be posting my photos and thoughts on the workshop and on the beauties of Kodiak, Alaska.
Ever since I returned from Harvester Island, I have felt pulled in two opposing directions:
Move clear across the country and live with a view of mountains.
Move further out to the country, but stay within driving distance of friends and family.
My week in Alaska was a gift, a break from the stress and emotional drain of living with someone with Borderline Personality Disorder. It was therapeutic as well ~ I haven’t cried that much in a long time (except maybe in my therapist’s office). The unconditional acceptance and yes, love that I experienced from my fellow writers was surprising and healing.
And the views. You know I’m going to mention the views.
But in addition to the peace and tranquility, my time cuddled in Kodiak’s majestic embrace also gave rise to some tough, potentially life-changing questions:
Have I become too complacent?
Do I need to make a change geographically?
Do I want to move away from all I've known for a good reason? Or as an escape?
If I do move, do I have the strength to be a wayfarer for a little while?
All of these questions involve letting go: of old defense mechanisms, of old ways of thinking. Letting go of guilt - both real and imagined and that was placed on me by others. Of old fears and self-imposed obstacles that kept my heart stagnate and locked behind a fortress so old and impenetrable, even my rusty key didn’t work anymore.
And then the winds of Uyak Bay blew around and through me, clearing my head of all those mental and emotional dust bunnies. The Alaskan sun danced off the water and burned away the soot of fear and the broken bits of my past. The beauty of the mountains and the ocean and the wildlife grabbed me by the heart and shook all those old locks and bars until they crumbled at my feet.
It was both exhilarating and scary as hell.
I don’t like change. I don’t know anyone who does (well, except one of my sisters ~ she seems to move every quarter). Change for change’s sake is not always a wise thing. But change because it is time and nothing, absolutely nothing, can truly remain static ~ that kind of change is an impetus for growth.
That kind of change also means that I will have to let go of something good in order to embrace something better. I don’t have any answers to those questions yet. So my meditation and self-reflection for the next 5½ months is that no matter where the road takes me, I will be able to accept it with peace and humility.
And the strength to remain present to the journey.
Oremus pro invicem,
This post was inspired by the Abbey of the Arts Photography Party. If you would like to join us on this visual meditation, post your photo at the link above, or join the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks on Facebook.