The road unfurls before me like a dove-grey ribbon, divided by dashes of yellow, winding through the trees. Sunlight filters through the canopy of pines, dappling the road ahead. Around each bend, the ocean glimmers against a periwinkle sky as the trees play peek-a-boo in green and blue. All of it a constant reminder of nature’s tender embrace. I inhale the scent of pine needles and feel the cool air on my skin as I drive with the window open.

I am falling in love with island life.

This island, just 14 kilometers long by 4.2 kilometers wide, holds me close. The sea is always near, a comforting presence amidst the lush green landscape. Behind me, as I drive, the road seems to narrow and disappear, like a thought drifting away on a cloud, carrying with it worries and woes, fears and trepidations.

And like the road disappearing into the trees, the daily routines of my former life fade into memory as I fall under the spell of this island in the sea.

There is a rhythm to island life unique to those who live here. I am slowly discovering mine. Even my morning routine – the familiar comfort of the NYTimes puzzles – feels infused with a new sense of peace. I feel my desire to create and contribute returning, my desire for calm rising like the tides, ebbing and flowing with the moon and stars.

I am of the wind. The waves. The trees swaying. The birds soaring along the water’s surface. I am the wild waves crashing. The calm seas rolling. I am the one I’ve always been searching for.

I am coming home to myself, to the me I’ve fought so hard to discover beneath the detritus of life’s tugs and pulls. In my homecoming, I find myself firmly planted in my being, all of me, no matter how fierce the winds around me blow.

In this place there is no need to rush about, to achieve and do more, be more, have more. There is only the sea’s constant urging I let go and be part of the ebb and flow of life unfolding like the road before me.