Sunday, September 7, 2014

Mixed Emotions, Or Yes, I Am Human

There's Mr. Moon out on the boat doing a little morning fishing. I should probably be packing up to leave. The washing machine here is broken and so I'll just be taking all the laundry home to do which in some strange way is easier. 
It's been a good two days and I think my main goal, which was to make my husband rest a bit has been met. And I'm ready to go home. Whether I have PTSD from the time I came here alone bringing my (at that time) completely misunderstood panic and anxiety or whether the spirits who live here just truly don't like me or whether I'm just sort of over it, I am ready. I remember when I used to come here for days and days at a time, either alone or with the kids and was completely happy to be. 
Not any more. 
Maybe it's just time to pass it all on to the children. Let them make it their own. That thought surely brings me joy. There are so few places left which offer the opportunity to truly observe Florida as she used to be with such little human intrusion. A place to study tides and birds, sky and the creatures of the bay. 
But I get restless here. So many memories. Some of them wonderful and some of them nightmarish. Why lie? It is true. 
I've been thinking a lot about our culture and how the Oprahzation of it has all occurred- this constant need and belief to only stress the positive, to be every moment filled with gratefulness and it seems to me that although it is extremely important to yes, be aware of the blessings we may have, the daily miracles we may observe if we merely take time to look, it is an insult to ourselves and to life and, quite impossible for me to ignore, that which is sad and hard and tragic and even ugly and boring.   
If we do not acknowledge those things as well, there is no impetus to change. 
And so it goes. 

Here I am in paradise, ready to go home to my other paradise. My messy oak tree and chicken- filled paradise. Where my grandsons come to play and where I can drink the water from the tap and where every square inch does not remind me of the time I was here, wishing I did not know where there were razor blades. 

It is with true mixed emotions that I love this place because I DO love it. But perhaps I have just worn out my own welcome here. Perhaps it is like a once-beloved dress which no longer fits me. 

Whatever. I think I'll make some breakfast for us and start packing. We try to set everything to perfect rights every time we leave so that the next time we come or that our partner comes or that our children come, the canvas will be blank for them to begin anew to paint the colors of their adventure on Dog Island. Because it is always an adventure. Every time. 

See you in Lloyd. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. It seems to me, Mary, that you've been doing a lot of reassessing and soul searching recently, and especially since having visited your doctor regarding your wrist. Maybe not the best time for making big decisions. Two paradises (paradii?) One for escape and tranquility and the other to live. Sometimes we're not comfortable with our thoughts, especially the dark ones when there are no distractions to quiet them. Back to your "little black man" (still smiling about that one!), your children, Owen and Gibson... to you own comfy bed. A change is as good as a rest, they say... meh, sometimes... I hope that for you, this is one of them. Fooling about with your Mr Sweetie... how that man sure loves you! Just keep on hanging in there... A quote I found a while back
    "On particularly rough days, when I'm sure I can't possibly endure, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through rough bad days so far is 100% and that's pretty good."
    I have no idea who to attribute it to, but I read it when I'm feeling at my worst. And I've finally managed to get a copy of your book. You really must have more faith in yourself... and whatever you do, don't stop writing. I loved it x

  2. well, you know, there are razor blades everywhere. anyway, this is just one day of one visit. but if you are ready to go, then go. no big deal. doesn't mean you are done with the place. unless you feel that way every time you go.

  3. I imagine that it feels odd to not want to be somewhere so beautiful. But you shouldn't feel bad that you are struggling on the island. It is what it is. You are a grown woman and you know your self. You know how it is making you feel.

  4. I think I understand a little of the complex feelings you feel for Dog Island. I have places like that, raw and natural, where the real shore and tides can be experienced, where some of my happiest and worst memories live, and I feel conflicted about wanting to go there but knowing the triggers or sense memories that lay in wait. It's never what I am expecting it to be, and maybe it is the spirits or ghosts or maybe that's what memories are.... So much can be triggered by the smell or the sound or the feel of a place, can't it?

    Reading this post, I was struck by the feelings of guilt I have for my negative thoughts, I always judge myself for not being grateful enough or happy or content enough, so thank you for naming the Oprahzation effect. We should be allowed to feel how we feel, yes? And we all know that life ain't pretty. So, thanks for telling the truth.

    Your pictures from this trip to the island are so beautiful; it's wonderful how much you see it and can capture and share it with words and pictures.

    I'm glad you thought some of this through, and are figuring out how you feel about the island and how you want to pass it along for the next adventurers. I bet it's almost a comfort to allow yourself to think about letting go of this place if you want to. It's the deciding what you really want that's the hardest part, isn't it?

    Safe crossings back to the mainland, with your laundry in tow.

  5. Darling Mary, I entirely understand every word you write here, indeed I have been having similar thoughts this morning about the need to not pretend that it is all a pretty picture, that's not life, is it? You feel what you feel, moment to moment, and acknowledging it is so much better (and safer) than pretending it away. You may go to Dog Island again with family members and feel differently on that trip. Or you may not. Whatever, you will be guided by your own truth and not anyone else's "shoulds." Also this is a vulnerable time. No one tells you that when you put out a book you feel naked before the world. Hug yourself my love. Listen to what Sandy says. It's a wonderful book and you are a writer to your core. And i love you so, all of you, every truth that is yours. Isn't it interesting how full-hearted one can feel toward one never met in the flesh? And yet, I think of you as my sister spirit, part of my soul cluster. I guess I am a little bit Oprahized, :)

  6. It's part of the journey to get out the raw feelings and then make a decision as to what I want to do about them. I understand being somewhere that brings pain and joy--all mixed together in the memories of the past and the reality of now. Live it. It's okay.

  7. I love when you ramble about life, and you do it beautifully here. You relieve me, you know? Provide solace and balm. Thank you.

  8. I understand wanting to be home. A part of me feels that way every single time I travel. I wouldn't assume you're completely finished with Dog Island, though. Something tells me you'll be bewitched by it again in a future trip. (In a good way!)

  9. Sandy- You are so dear. Thank you. I always overthink every emotion I have. This is nothing new for me but yes, the wrist may have brought things up. As for that quote- you know, I was thinking the exact same thing just recently. Not those exact words but the message. It does help. Thank you for your sweetness and your good words.

    Ellen Abbott- I sort of do. Okay, yes. I do. Every time.

    Jill- You nailed it- it DOES make me feel bad. But it is what it is. I am indeed grown enough to know that.

    Mel- Yes. All of that. Every bit. And our crossing was sweet and smooth. Mr. Moon's new boat engine is a wonder.

    Angella- Oh, I believe that we were fated to meet in this way. There was no way to avoid it and I am grateful. Rereading your words this morning brought a hot-spring of tears to my eyes. That is a very, very real feeling and you inspire these feelings in me. I always feel like you know, just as I know the feelings behind what you write. Bless.

    Syd- I do try. Thank you.

    Elizabeth- As you do for me in so many ways. Thank you, sweet sister in this way.

    Steve Reed- Oh, it always bewitches me. I am completely aware of its beauty. It's just the feelings it evokes which are not so good.

  10. Two of a kind, Mary... I drive myself mad sometimes, always overthinking. And it all makes perfect sense in my head... but it can't really, because I keep most of it to myself, and if it did (make sense) there shouldn't be a problem telling anyone else. And oh, there must be something wrong if there's nothing to worry about! Which gives me something to worry about, and all's well with the world again... except we know that it's not... not really, but at least it's familiar territory! Well, that's my excuse, anyway :) x


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