I think part of our reasoning for coming here was to create a new sense of our wonder; reimagining our day to day existence, finding light or sparks in what had become predictable and leaning in towards something different, though not necessarily "better." We came up with the idea of moving to an island while on Martha's Vineyard for seven weeks this summer (another island) appreciating the ease and less is more mentality that the living there invited, especially after a season of worry and tension in the throws of the pandemic. It's funny- living here has not been easy. There are unknowns that soon become knowns but only become predictable in their unpredictable-ness. There is an appreciated slower pace to life and yet island time is not clock driven, rather more of a personal and unique allowance of time that ranges between now and then. There may be an intention to be open on set time and set date, but something comes up and, so, it don't open. Moving along at this pace, in this setting, using the lens of best intentions that make for grace when things do go smoothly coincides with a solid practice of acceptance and compassion when things do go wrong. (Note; I am not talking about urgent life and death moments (knock on wood). If there were dire circumstances or strict needs that had to be met regularly, I wouldn't recommend moving to the USVI.) But what I am trying to get at is this idea that while we live in a place where folks come to vacation, we can't live here with a vacationland state of mind.
Living on a tropical island that imports almost all of its products means "You get what you get and you don't get upset." Like last week, I went to one of the more reliable grocery stores for the big weekly shop and they didn't have organic milk or bananas. NBD. There were mangos, clementines, organic half and half... so that's what I brought home. If I were a better planner (and I am learning- I just re-stocked our Amazon subscriptions) I could tap a few more resources to ensure for necessary items that my family needs/wants on a weekly basis. But part of island time is not getting caught up in the drama of what DIDN'T get here, but making do with what did. (I have to hand it to the restaurants here- they are always adjusting and prepping for what the ship brings in.) I enjoy this thinking on my feet as I go, feeling proud of my grit in the face of my Greenwich upbringing, where the unpredictable allows for the creative, resourceful and clever, as well as the patient and persistent.
And just to note, on the flip side of what could be considered lack or scarcity moments, whenever their is an abundance of bananas or organic milk- it's not like I can buy the lot. Our house isn't hooked up to a generator that would keep excess bananas frozen or organic dairy from spoiling for when the power shuts off. (It can be a few times a week...) So, needless to say, there is no sense in buying bulk for the sake of emergencies. It's an ebb and flow when it comes to commercialism and, as baffling as it can be sometimes, I am thankful for this new awareness and gratitude for what shows up.
Even in weather there is an appreciation- as a chaser of the sunshine, I can feel my body soften when I wake to a cloudy day. And when rain falls on our roof at night, hearing the drops hit the roof and run into the gutter, I get to think of the thirsty hill of bougainvillea outside our window feasting for tomorrow's magenta showcase. While, simultaneously, I am consoled by the thought of the rising water level in the cistern. Or when gray water from our leaky septic tank starts to spill down the property (yes- it smells) there is delight in the fact that I can almost hear the plants' smiling blessings, announcing their joy with richer, more verdant, shades of green. Without these silver linings and gentle nods of grace, all of this could be maddening between the maybe's, not today's, break downs and stormy weather. But where would that get me? Frustration can happen, but it can also be fleeting. And I have to say that a lot of my gratitude lies my family and how they are able to respond to these daily nuances in stride. Each of them has proved willing to take what they get and not get upset and without their tolerance for change and making it work attitude, I don't think I would be singing this kind of tune.
And to be clear, we are finding new resources every week, enriching our somewhat reliable staples. For example, Dave just found the Mike & Ike's that Harry's been asking for since November! Our friend just dropped off fresh tuna that he caught on his last skin dive! The plumber came! The path of glee and delight keeps coming from these simple and bright things, balancing out the times when the power goes out in the middle of a PR (personal record) ride on Peloton or the water pressure isn't working so you can't take a shower, even though you've already held out for five days. So, when shit happens, both figuratively and literally, it's a matter of perspective and a pivot. It's about smelling the salty air, facing the offshore wind, finding the fuschia, and putting on the deodorant...
GLEE list (for today):
Pelicans- they are abundant and make me laugh
Cloudy days (sunshine's reprieve)- dewy skin and happy palms
Tiny lizards- they look at you funny
Finding the Persian product aisle at the market
The Rose family of chickens & roosters down the street
- think black & white plumage, blond wigs, indigo tuxedos
A Christmas present that came in the mail yesterdayKid Rock- the goat who visits when the dogs are quiet
The box turtle who eats Elsa's carrots
Daily pinch me mornings with our 280 degree water views
The hummingbirds who found our sweetwater feeders
Closing on the house today, even thought it took a month longer than we anticipated
What does your GLEE list look like? I'd love to know.
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