I am getting off the Rock!
I know it sounds ungrateful when hundreds of thousands of people pay good money to come here every year by cruise and by plane. But I am getting on a plane and ascending leaving the luscious green rock in its blue ocean cradle with pleasure.
It’s one of those things about living on a small island. You arrive on island from your last trip, spend a day getting back into routine, spend a week being glad you’re home, work to clear the vacation mess of your desk with new energy, have lunch with darling friends, catch up with them for another two weeks. Then happy hours, karaoke, alcohol, latin nights of bachata and reggaeton, Saturday breakfast with the girls, walk dogs, lunch again with the same friends, take a drive out as far as you can drive (forty minutes or so), eat local food at a seaside restaurant on the north coast, come home and walk dogs. At week five it feels very sameish. At week six I’m on a plane looking out the window.
Today is somewhere near the six-week mark and though my trip isn’t for the best of reasons (head doctor) nor to the most exciting of places (just Miami) I am seeing it like rain in the desert.
Mind you, I had been warned before coming home from the big city. Daddy Bushlings sat me down and said “I know this is your home and I know these are your mother’s people. I’ve been here long enough to understand what the land means to you all – its like some crazy obsession. In fact I’ve been here long enough for it to mean the same to me. But baby with a brain like yours you only have two choices – either you own it or you leave it. Mediocre is not an option. Either you channel your wits to captaining this ship or you jump ship. Choose wisely – it is a big world and life is short.”
I’d like to think I’m on my way to owning it. But right now it is time to leave.