Island Transitions

I never thought of life as being breezy I never thought of time as time to play I never thought that I could take it easy But all those feelings changed for me today So says Norman Paperman in Jimmy Buffett's excellent musical adaptation of Herman Wouk's "Don't Stop the Carnival." It's the story of a New York newspaper critic of Broadway plays has a mild heart attack and decides life is too short. Packs it all in, he heads to the islands to run a hotel. It's an adventure of culture shock, Palm Trees, affairs, corruption, beauty and finally coming to terms with the fact that he is who he really is. In the end he goes back to who he was ... though it's the adventure that defined who he really is. That remains the question doesn't it? Is this who I really am? The core of my soul is being a banker? My life's purpose is to get company's to buy adds for the newspaper? I really do love spending each day trying to make a sell? It's all about the money and in a few years I'll almost have enough? If it wasn't for the children I'd travel the world but I can't because "good mothers" don't do things like that? The Preacher told me that God told him that life is supposed to be lived one way only? I can't afford to be me? If I don"t take care of her, she'll die? For thirty years I was a pretty relentless person. Life was a series of never ending accomplishments, each besting the last. Time was deadlines and pressures with occasional lapses into moments of peace or love. Easy would come later because there was too much to do. Everybody needed me to do define myself in these ways or ... the entire world would go to hell, clocks would stop, children would starve, and God would personally hand me a first class ticket to hell. It's all bullshit. We're made to be who we really are. Maybe for those thirty years that was who I was really made to be, but it's not now. There isn't much I'd change about the way its all working out. But I've already did that. I don't want to do it again. I'll do something else. For the past while we were in St. Martin which is an island I love. It's freedom, Trade Winds, Palm Trees, aqua-blue water, good friends and contentment. Yesterday we got home and it was unplanned meetings, deadlines, expectations, failed deliveries, people talking too loud and collapsing into bed too exhausted to sleep. I was noticing a change in myself through yesterday. I no longer have to be in charge. I don't have to fix it. I can sit back and let others do the things they need to do for themselves because ... God knows the world would end if they didn't get what they want. I can slide into the calmness of a Bay protected by a reef. God really can be in charge if She wants to because ... I'm not going to fight about that anymore. This morning there are remnants of a Tropical Storm off of Tybee Island, which is home. Clouds thickly roll over the sun trying to prevent it from sending light, but there is light ... enough to see anyway. I water the plants and flip the laundry. Strolling to the Beloved Back Deck, I brush Goddess' hair. There are things to do and places to be in a little bit. It's all good. In the past twenty-four hours, I've transitioned islands. In the past few years, I've transitioned life. I'm keenly aware of so many people ... a lot I love deeply ... who are navigating their own transitions. Or panning the beginning of one. Or cussing the fact that they're too trapped to change anything. It's all alright. Do the best you can. Tomorrow ... try to do a little bit better. That's pretty much what Jesus had to say about it all. But in the end ... try to be as close to the person that you were really meant to be. Otherwise, worlds go to hell ... clocks stop ... children starve ... and tickets to hell are abundant.