Sometimes life can make you feel like you’re on your own island. Have you ever been there?
Sitting on the ferry from Portsmouth to Fishbourne, watching the white foam travel along side me, I remembered a time when I felt unable to reach out to others. This wasn’t something others did to me but somewhere I had put myself. I was on my own little island where the only one I felt I could talk to was me. The fact was my self-talk wasn’t exactly positive. The more I confided in me the more negative I got, until I took a look in the metaphorical mirror. I could see the truth and I wasn’t happy. I didn’t recognise the image staring back at me.
I decided it was time to invite others into my space. At first it was nothing too deep, just enough time to allow them a passing comment or a good weather conversation. This was enough for me to clear a small square of beach just for the VIP’s on my island. Soon enough, the crack in my face turned into a smile, into a chuckle, into a full blown belly laugh with crows’ feet.
The more I allowed others onto my island, to share with me, the more knowledge, wisdom, laughs and lessons I began to have. In short I started to be a better me.
Reconstructing my island to accommodate others became an enjoyable pastime. Finding a place for all those I wanted to share time with was now something I wanted to do. The landscape was now more interesting and my life began to flourish. I now realise it is much better to own your own island than to be on your own island.
We are all delicate butterflies making our way along the industrial road to somewhere. What that looks like is unique to everyone one of us. What that feels likes is exclusive to each of us. As long as we own it, we can be it, hopefully for the long haul and in a constructive way.