Afternoon cruise off Block Island.
After a wondrous, energizing week on Block Island I closed up my rented cottage, then met a realtor for a quick walk-through on a rental I'm considering for my next trip here -- during the high season, if I can last that long before returning. Then I drove to the ferry, and my car was first in line to board. With 20 minutes to spare, I walked across the dock at Ballard's and walked out on the jetty for a last scramble across the rocks and to add steps for my daily Fitbit counter. It was overcast but warm; a perfect send-off for a melancholy moment.
Block Island is tough to leave, and I hope to bring with me the uplift, calm, peace, and encouragement felt and cultivated there. My spirit at Block Island is part of me, it doesn't reside on Block Island. Many people have a special place like this; and it's not about the place -- it's about how the place affects you. How do you feel there? What does it give you? Does it change your energy? How do you take it with you? Don't leave it there.
Taking the best of Block Island with me on this ride.
I thought about this as I gazed out the ferry's port side during the 55-minute crossing. I could see the beach where I walked for miles; the bluffs where I stood and felt the wind on my face; and the North Light where I walked along the east and west beaches, snuck into a driftwood lean-to, and finally saw the sun sink as the sky turned hues of yellow, orange, red, pink, purple, and blue, and then the beacon brightened.
As the ferry powered on, the clouds dropped down and the mist kicked up, the island receded into a ghostly gray and then finally slipped from my sight. I looked toward the bow and no land was visible.
Lean-to made of driftwood at the northernmost point of Block Island.
For a few moments, the sea separated us from where we came and where we'd be. For those prone to seasickness, this could be a tough moment because it's recommended to keep your eye on the fixed land or the horizon. Neither could be detected at this moment and I couldn't help but thinking this is akin to the feeling of having no direction; when you're in between two points in life -- jobs, relationships, questions and answers -- and there's a feeling of unknown. You're not sure what's ahead and when it will arrive. You can't be sure at what pace you might be proceeding or if you're being held back. You don't know if you're on track or not. And for how long will you be here?
Without any context, it's tough to know where you are along the path.
In these moments, we need to trust. Just as I trust the ferry captain to delivery me safely to port, I trust the Universe to lead me along the path. That trust required prep work; you don't just decide to have faith in something. The prep work for me was self-reflection, discerning my values, being open and patient, and appreciating being in the moment. Trying to be present.
I'm in good hands, and I'm doing my part as a positive and engaged passenger along for the ride.
P.S.--I solidified seafood in my diet with a second dish! The halibut over squash ragout with chickpeas and capers at Eli's was something special. It was light and flaky so I didn't need a knife, and I finished every bit! My new found taste for seafood is another piece of Block Island inspiration I can take 'to go'! ; )
Sunset view of the North Light.