Untethered

“You must be so excited.” 

Those words were said to me more than once yesterday as I ran around on my first day back from England.  I live on an island so, of course, people know almost as much about me as I do.  They certainly all know I’ve been gone for six weeks; that my house sale is pending inspections and escrow; that I have a new place in Portland.  A few know I am dating someone new.  Such a simple conjecture—”you must be so excited”—but really what I feel is untethered.  It’s a word that whispers itself in the back of my head.  Sometimes it feels ominously threatening and at other times it feels joyous.

As I came home from the airport the other night, it was one of those island nights that defies description.  The air was warm, the sky was beyond gorgeous, the Sound glistened, and the stars twinkled just on the edge of the dusk—the island, the Sound, the sky, and my soul all woven together.  Those are the nights that make me want to get on my hands and knees and kiss the earth.  For I live in a place that makes you earn them, let me tell you.  As the ferry sailed closer and closer to the Clinton dock, I was filled with a deep love and reverence for this place.  Coming up the hill from the boat, I immediately wanted to stop everything I had set into motion four months ago.  I wanted to text my real estate agent and say, “Just kidding.  I’m not selling.”  I wanted to call all my clients and say, “I’ll be back on Monday if you’ll take me.”  But then I heard the word untethered in the back of my head…as if carried by the wind.  The last few days have been full of those moments. Hang on or let go.  And each time that word lingers.

I came to the island seeking roots and grounding.  In the last fifteen years I’ve gotten that aplenty.  I have a community of people who have held me up and carried me through so much.  And they’ve allowed me the honor of returning that favor. I literally learned to feel the earth—in my hands as I learned to garden and grow food—and in my soul as learned I am merely a small creature on this planet. 

Now, it feels as if those around me know it’s time for me to leave this place.  For now…perhaps...but, I hope, not forever.  So I am greeted with: “you must be so excited” often these days.  It’s as if everyone can see it’s time for me to fly and they are gently letting go of the tie that binds me here by offering me anticipation.  As much as there is possibility in that, there is deep fear.  What if, like a balloon released from a grasping hand, I float so high and far there is nothing to hold me anymore?  In the quietest of moments this morning, another thought came to me.  Unless I am untethered, I will never know if there is somewhere else in the world I am meant to land and grow new roots.