There's something magical about the island.
The whole drive down I was stewing about something that happened as I left work on Wednesday. I tried to do my tonglen around the issue and the person, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger with every breath. The stew getting thicker and thicker until I could hardly breathe.
And then I arrived. I felt the wind swirl my hair and run up my arms like the hands of a familiar lover. And the notion of trouble or place or work dissolved. I smiled for the first time in weeks. Hell I may have even laughed.
There is a place we all live, where we are all alive. This place, this tiny island in the gulf is that place for me. This is home.