My Story


My Story:

After the illness and death of our only daughter, my husband and I decided to rent a boat and go sailing in the gulf of Mexico for a month. This is where, on New Year's Day 2005, we were caught in a storm, shipwrecked and my husband drowned. I have been on this island, which seems to be caught in some kind of portal or other dimension, ever since, free to explore philosophical and spiritual thoughts, yet physically unable to leave.

Other characters seem to be able to come and go as they please however, as I have met a few of them since being here. They visit me every once in awhile. Aquaman and Gypsy Queen were the first to appear. Gollum showed up after, then came El Alejandro and Stick-Paul, into whose dimension I was able to go a few hours before being pulled back to my island. More recently, Mr. Tumnus has been around.

Other than rare visits from these characters, I have the constant chattering of monkeys and sqawking of parrots to fill my days.

Every once in awhile, when the wind is just right, and I am able to power up the make-shift generator I made (I am handy aren't I?), charge my satelite phone, which has internet access (even out here), I am able to post a little something on my current life as a shipwrecked woman. Don't bother trying to rescue me just yet. I doubt you'd find me anyway. This seems to be one of those Bermuda Triangle things. I'm not sure I'm even in the same dimension anymore. But hey, the satelite phone still works, how cool is that?



Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Beauty in the storm

It has been a long time since I have had anything to say. Sometimes, when things are going well, there just isn't anything to say. Didn't Tolstoy say something about all happy families being the same but all unhappy families being different? As in when you're happy, there is no story to tell, when you are unhappy, THEN there is a story to tell.

Life can be stormy sometimes, but there is something magic about a storm, something powerful. Huge storms hit my island, but that is what shapes it, makes it so rugged, so beautiful. There have been no major storms here recently, however, and I have been walking around my island quite a bit.

Imagine my surprise when I came across an old stone building. It had stone arches, and tiny narrow windows. It was surrounded by a courtyard, which, in turn, was surrounded by a stone wall. In the courtyard were what I presume were once vegetable gardens, and in one corner was an orchard. It has mostly gone to weed now. However many of the trees still bear fruit.

As I walked inside, I noticed religious symbols and images. This place was once a monastery! A cloistered one it seems, from the way it is set up. The roof of the chapel, unfortunately, has fallen in, but it remains a still calm place and one where the presence of God still seems palpable.

Somewhere, deep inside of me, part of me has always dreamed of being a cloistered nun. I know that God is in ordinary life as well, but imagine, to have no distractions! To be continually reminded of his presence, to continually pray in communion with others... it must be a taste of Heaven.

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