I'm not ready.
I have been here 5 weeks but it feels like I just arrived.
Only now am I starting to find my stride and to catch my breath.
My body is just beginning to become the elusive, efficient surfing machine that only comes by way of daily sessions.
My mane is only now starting to grow longer and lovelier into the mermaid locks that they were always meant to be and that New England winters are always cutting short.
My skin has only now become compatible with the sun. An upgrade in pigmentation now allows me to absorb the rays, assimilate and radiate. I am a solar machine.
My soul is only now settling into itself and to the rhythms of the sea and sky.
I lie here in the moonlight listening to the sound of the ocean at the bottom of the hill.
There is no tv. There are no late-night cravings here.
And I'm still not ready.
To go back to the life that I am always trying to find some way out of or a deeper way into.
To figuring out this puzzle of happiness and balance - the constant thinking, thinking, thinking.
To the grown up world of never-ending responsibilities, long lost comforts and to things that can never be made right.
To a scarier place where anything might happen at any time.
Two full moons have passed since I returned to this island.
When I return to my other home, I will don my thick rubber suit. I will play the game. I will hide and I will seek and I will stumble into those sweet, fleeting moments that sparkle and melt like spun sugar on the tongue.
But for today I am simply a child of the sea and the moon, the sun and the stars...
Oh for a few more precious days.
And maybe one day, I will be ready.