I’ve found myself wandering, as Rob Brezsny tells me, in exile this past few weeks. Not a permanent exile, but definitely a place outside the comfort zone. When I’m feeling positive about it, I think of it as the wilds of the imagination. Wandering in exile tends to conjure a mental picture of an emaciated fellow trudging through the desert. However, my personal form of exile is more like being a mermaid swimming in the far reaches of the deepest emotional seas.
As I wrote in my journal, “swimming and floating, never touching the bottom. Sometimes it’s stormy, sometimes quite calm. Can it be called wandering if you’re swimming? Well, why not?”
It’s not quite time to come back to the mainland, for there are still lessons to be learned. Yet I have found some new allies, and alerted some longtime friends, and they have sent me messages in bottles and texts on my shell-phone, so I know I’m not entirely alone. I expect that I’ll return with new thoughts, ideas, and ponderings to share. Stay tuned, dear readers, and perhaps I’ll swim back with some pearls for you.