I found her today. Actually, she found me. Maybe, it’s just one of those fate-crossing path things you read about now and then.

Apparently, after sailing around the world for a number of years looking to find some connection to happiness, she ran head straight onto the deserted island that remains in memory offering foundation to so many of these now empty spiced rum bottle messages. As soon as she landed, it was obvious this was no ordinary vessel. One glimpse at her colorful see-through banner held straight up in the air announcing her proud, weary arrival made known the story to anyone who has lived it.

If the picture showed you inside the hull, you’d see the scars developed from hard journey. Driven to seek refuge in location after location only to find another hurricane there as well. It was as if this wasn’t a new storm, but a continuation of the one thought to be left behind. It was like the storm had its own GPS storm tracking system allowing it to bring the painful drama wherever. Even to say Antarctica, if she decided to sail there to get away and to see the penguins, the storm seemed quite able to locate her.

So what is she to do? Should she choose to huddle here for a while and lick her wounds? Or, is this just another launchpad before setting off yet again to try it once more her way? What is the crux of the story that we just keep missing that leads us astray again and again?

Hard-earned and hard-fought sea faring experience says the only way back is to let go of the rudder and trust. Wherever this beauty may crash, just wait til you see her rebuilt. She will be another light house on this beach soon, her flag streaming in the air, announcing to the next wave of sails there is hope and life and purpose found almost the moment we stop trying to make it happen ourselves. She is almost there. So grateful that she took a moment to pass through here and granted us the opportunity to remember her perspective.