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I used to live on a little island, in my mind. You see, I isolated myself from the world so I can work on myself. I took up space on my unknown plot of land for about a six years or so, then I decided to move.

City lights aren’t as bright, loud noises aren’t such a nuance. And people. They’re everywhere.

But I don’t mind them.

I can reflect on my experiences in my island now, though.

Firstly, it was freeing…but I was lonely. While away for my retreat to heal and focus (and in a lot of cases, unknowingly) I still encountered unkindness and cruelty. I still bled…I still hurt.

It was when I realized I was capable of inflicting wounds myself, that I came to understanding my isolation wasn’t to be away from the world, solely. But to find myself.

If you don’t understand yourself, you will understand no one. If you’re unwilling , no matter how much you distance yourself from others…it will still bother you. You’ll hear noise and chaos – with no one to blame. That is when you have to make a decision. To blame people you’ve distanced yourself from. Or realize what you’re allowing, not healing, or pretending doesn’t exist is the reason for the madness.

You step off of your high horse, you begin forgiving past hurts – from others and yourself. And the more you face your shadows and demons, the less anger, resentment and regret you’ll feel.

Until suddenly, you realize your island move was temporary.