“Life is the flower for which love is the honey.” ~ Victor Hugo.

If travel is educational, then I have been blessed with learning from early childhood, and hopefully I will never graduate!  This year alone, the first in my retirement, I have visited four countries (outside of the US), and several states within the US.  Regardless of my geographical location, I have been blessed to see many beautiful sunrises and sunsets, and been amazed each time at the variety of shades, astonished by the depth and richness of color, surprised anew at each configuration.

I moved to Jamaica from the UK at an age that allowed me to absorb the culture, learn the language, and begin a life-long love affair with the people and the island.  When I fly to Jamaica I feel as if I am returning home.  When I depart, it is as if I am leaving a lover, anxious to know ‘when will I see you again’.  As I have written before, I have been blessed to also have roots in Wales, another beautiful land, also blessed with rugged mountains and mystical scenery, so when I visit Wales I am similarly torn when I leave.

There are times in our lives when a change in perspective helps us to recognize changes we need to make in our lives.  When I was in my mid-thirties, I finally had the opportunity to travel abroad.  For around thirteen years I had been confined to the USA, with family, work, and a lack of disposable income ensuring that I could not go very far.  Finally, my children were old enough to do without me for a week or so, and the planned wedding of my best friend in Jamaica gave me the needed excuse to leave them in the care of their father.  I was going back to Jamaica for the first time, shedding my responsibilities like an outworn skin.

I can still remember standing outside the airport in Kingston, waiting to be picked up.  I breathed in the Blue Mountains which stood tall and imposing; I absorbed the sounds of Jamaicans, joking and teasing each other; I sang to myself, feeling freer than I had felt in a long time.  For too long I had lost my identity in that of my roles: nurse; mother; wife. 

Somewhere there is a journal where I recorded all of my first impressions as I saw Jamaica as if for the first time.  I had forgotten the noise, the car horns, the music spilling out from store fronts, from vehicles.  I had forgotten the vibrancy of the colors of houses, of flowers, of clothes.  I had forgotten the overflow of humans on buses, on streets, on sidewalks.  As I drove up into the hills of St. Andrew, to the home of my friend, I oohed and aahed at the sight of mountains looming close; of valleys dipping between with the sight of rivers rushing over rocks below. 

But the beauty of Jamaica was the backdrop.  What was happening internally was the recognition that it was time to reclaim me, the person, the individual.  I had time to reflect on my life, my marriage, my future.  In a way, although Jamaica was not the land of my birth, it was the land of my rebirth, and when I returned to my family it was with a new attitude.

If we are lucky, we are able to see these moments, these points in our life when lessons are provided.  Sometimes we resist change, not seeing it as the opportunity for growth.  Although it took me several more years to really shake up my life and accept the challenge of going back to school and changing my career direction, the seeds were sown in that home up in the hills above Kingston, where hummingbirds darted among the flowers, where I rediscovered my tastebuds again (while eating a Jamaican breakfast and sipping Blue Mountain coffee).

They say that life is lived forwards, but understood backwards.  At times it is only when we look back that we understand the significance of experiences that at the time seemed confounding.  What is important is to learn to trust the process, that even when we cannot see the point or the purpose of obstacles and challenges, there will be a time when we realize how perfectly they affected our development.  When you see your life as a classroom, with opportunities for learning at every turn, it is more readily accepted and enjoyed.

Living in South Florida, where the cloudscapes offer ever-changing artwork to compensate for the lack of mountains, it is possible to find a different type of beauty.  There may not be the shocking diversity of tropical flowers and fruits, but there are trees and birds and parks galore.  Returning from a trip to Atlanta last weekend, we stopped at Florida’s Ravine Gardens State Park, and instead of climbing mountains, we descended 120 feet into the ravine, where spring-fed streams burbled over rocks to eventually feed the nearby town of Palatka.  A baby alligator sunned itself on a clump of bushes, while woodpeckers and cardinals were heard in the foliage.  A suspension bridge hung over the ravine, looking like something from a fairy tale.  Spanish moss (old man’s beard) adorned the trees, while cypress knees poked up from the marshy soil, looking like deacons holding a prayer meeting. 

This Friday morning, as I give thanks for the ability to travel, to see beauty in a variety of venues, I hope that you are able to find beauty in your surroundings.  I hope also that you can find lessons in your own experiences, and the courage to change course if that is what is needed. 

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.