Root to Rise

Savan of Charlotte Amalie

Neither the slow burn of August nor the month long Sunday Scaries that come with anticipating September ever came. Abundance was August's word; hosting friends and family, meals around the dinner table, early evening swims at Icehouse, basil, morning pages, dog walks, sunsets, a Sara Bareilles concert I'll never forget, fresh baked bread, meditations, flight lessons, shifts, runs, ice cream cones and laundry. Like living in a snow globe, Granny Sue's house on Music Street remained enchanting with all of our comings and goings. And now it is September...

One silver lining of having kids who go off to school before Labor Day is that come September the chaos tends to subside. The kids are already set up in their dorms at their three different schools in three different states. The Target and Trader Joe's runs are over, the medical forms have been submitted and Parent's Weekends have been registered for and booked. In past years, I took care of myself with some R&R at Kripalu or a quiet retreat at home to shed the ache that follows our family's annual dispersal. This year is a little different.

Dave and I landed at Cyril E. King on August 29th with Margo, our 2 body bags, 1 trunk, 4 rollies and carry-ons (like I said, abundance) and we still find ourselves nomads. Our renovation carries on and most of our luggage has been moved into storage. They say to build or rebuild here on St. Thomas, expect it to be twice as long and twice as much. Well, we're pretty much on track. Now we're on rental number six and I'm more than ready to grab the friggin' rock of this hopscotch madness and throw it into Hull Bay. But, I've said it before, these multiple moves must be part of my karma. Whether I come out on the other side rooted and grounded to our finished home on Tropaco Point until my dying days or find myself restless within the year to stretch my legs on another property, I can't say. I just know that I'm ready to land and unpack (daunting as it is!), ready to stop seeing spreadsheets in my sleep, ready to paint on big canvases again, ready to live with my things within the walls that Dave and I re-imagined and re-created.

Abundance has made my meditation practice challenging, helter-skelter if you will. And that's okay. I'm not fearful that I will soon spiral into mania or sadness, like I used to when I missed more than a day of meditation. Instead, I find pockets of stillness and listening each day. Currently, in rental number 6, each morning I get to look over rooftops that meander down the hillside of Charlotte Amalie. Like an unfurling poodle skirt doing the jitterbug, houses spread down towards town and harbor from up above. Pink, lavender, yellow, rust, baby blue and all shades of white mix with the green of mango and palm trees that have managed to root themselves in between the cement strewn buildings and snake like roads. This vista soothes me like a patchwork quilt, helping me find ground. And as I extend my gaze over rooftops, I get to listen to a different symphony of sounds as roosters, gulls, parrots and pigeons lay claim to the airwaves along with church bells and traffic. Who'd of thought that town could be calming?

In these moments of being, I am able let go of the to-do's. And while it's lovely to put down the monkey mind, the longing to be closer to my children, the imaginings of what could be, can creep in. So, I turn to another practice, one of gratitude, to help me find some buoyancy. Yes, I guess this another list, but it's one where simply naming the thankfuls of my life without having to write them down invites space and grace into each breath. Feeling levity in the abundance helps me meet the chaos and uprootedness.

I know that this is a frenzied time of year for many, with heart strings being pulled every which way. My wish for you (and me, I guess) is to find eyes in each storm, take a few deep breaths when you think about it, be kind to your heart and manage your expectations. Be it your family's disbanding, back-to-school mayhem or the full moon lunar eclipse in Pisces, there are a lot of feelings going around. Remember to root yourselves where you can, feel the support of the earth, the strength in your legs and the beauty in small things so that we can rise to meet these challenging times.

With love & support,

St. Sunshine