Caribbean castaways

The thought came to me of us in Tulum being all castaways in this Caribbean portal, in a sense an island, where we lay waiting to be rescued only by our awaken selves, if we just bear with us a while longer and listen to the signs, brighter here than where we came from, as we undergo deep changes that will remain forever in us.
How deep, I questioned, as I looked back to a year’s Tulum life worth, on route to Merida on Dec 31st. in an ADO bus. The amount of change I underwent in a single year felt as odd as a full-size piano’s weight that liberated me in the same proportion, the realisation of which left me in awe, both with sorrow for having broken all conceivable attachment out of love, as with great happiness for that same reason and for having finally gotten to know my very self. I stopped looking anywhere else.
Living in this island isolated this castaway in particular, from any reference point to measure my changes against. It had thus done away with all my fears.

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