I feel all mixed up inside. My shoulders are tightening. My stomach has a heavy blob feeling to it. My head is scattered. I feel as if I should be stable, balanced and calm and at times I do catch a state of mind that’s at peace but those moments are fleeting.
I know that time will take its course and it won’t be long before my jumpy feelings subside but living through them is uncomfortable. Why does change and uncertainty have to be so uncomfortable? Considering that I’m changing from one amazing situation to another I don’t understand what the nerves are for?
If it weren’t for the hurricane season that’s soon to arrive, we wouldn’t have to leave the Caribbean
Ironically, our passage from the American Virgin Islands to Puerto Rico could have been described in similar fashion to my state of mind and body. The trade winds pushed us from behind and the boat wallowed, shifted, banged and dipped far to the left and far to the right.
Both Britican and I are moving forward but it’s as if we don’t want to
So what’s causing my flippant feelings as I look over the tropical turquoise waters of the Caribbean? Why am I reluctant to close one door and move to the next? Heck…I should be able to transition to the next chapter as new chapters start almost every few months!
Our plans to move out of the Caribbean are for two reasons: Safety and insurance reasons
Hurricanes start forming in the Atlantic in May increasing in size and severity as the summer goes on. Our insurance provider requires us to find a hurricane hole in the Caribbean or move north or south out of the region.
Many full time cruisers drop down to Grenada, an island still in the Caribbean above South America that is deemed as ‘safe.’ There are many other places called ‘hurricane holes,’ that provide boaters a safe haven for the months of June to November. Other boaters have their boat pulled out and stored on the hard taking a few months off to travel home to see friends and family.
And then there’s boaters that drop down to South America or head up to North America
We’ve decided to head North to the States. Considering our plans to head into the Pacific next year or the following year, now is the time to visit with our family and friends in America.
The plan is to stop in Florida first, meeting up with my father. I haven’t seen him in a very long time (perhaps 7 or 8 years) and my daughter; Sienna (age 6 now) has never met him.
After Florida, we’ll head to North Carolina staying in Wilmington to get boat work done. Within a couple hours from the marina are my brother and his family (my lovely sister-in-law, nephew and niece) and my mom and stepfather. And then we may or may not sail up to New York and take a flight up to my hometown of Rochester to visit my grandparents, aunt, uncle and friends. Either way, we’ll get to Rochester it’s just a matter of where we’ll leave the boat.
For five months we’ll spend time getting the boat serviced, visit with family and friends and do a bit of sightseeing
If things work out I might also put our daughter, Sienna, in school for a few months so to ensure I’m keeping her on par with her peers and allowing her time to socialize with kids her age. I’m not sure what I’ll find in Wilmington or whether school systems allow for three-month stints, but failing that I’m sure there will be some homeschooling groups to get in touch with.
So why my inner turmoil?
On one hand I’m super excited to see my family. I can’t wait to get a hug from my dad and have him take a look at his amazing granddaughter. I can’t wait to lounge out on my mom’s sofa and get home cooking fed to me on request (mom spoils me when I come ‘home’). I’m excited to see my brother and sister-in-law – we always have a blast whether we’re sitting in front of the television, doing a segway tour of a city or hiking a mountain. And having plans to see all my family up in New York is very exciting.
But…
But, I’m scared and I’m not sure why?
Perhaps I don’t want to leave the freedom of being at anchor and not having anything planned out? Maybe I’m afraid that returning to land will make me feel constricted.
I’m scared that I’ll go shopping and see amazingly lovely things that I know I can’t buy because I don’t have a house to store them in. I’m worried that Sienna will be affected by all the commercialism and develop an ‘I want’ list a mile long.
I’m also afraid that perhaps I’ll like being ‘home’ so much and not want to leave
Some days I look out at the beautiful sea, the tropical beaches and open sky thinking I’ll never want to leave this lifestyle.
Other days I want to curl up on a sofa in a large house with air conditioning, eat chili and have a shopping spree on Amazon.com for next day delivery. The old Kim loved to shop…Often it wasn’t so much about actually buying things, it was more about window shopping – online or in person. My old daily routine was to walk into town (in Aylesbury or Gosport, England) get a coffee at the coffee shop while doing work. I’d then wander for an hour or two looking in shops. If I entered a bookshop I’d be an extra hour – I LOVE REAL BOOKS and I love taking hours to read the back of books, smell the bookstore smells and get lost in fact and fiction. For two years I’ve had to get lost on Kindle and let me say it’s not the same!
So…perhaps I’m scared that our five-month stay in and around North Carolina might demonstrate what I no longer have
Furthermore, it’s been twenty years since I’ve stayed in the States for longer than a vacation.
Not only am I going ‘home’ I’m taking my home with me. Will I want to keep both homes in one place? Will I want to get a real home on land and be close to my family so that I can go to my nephews soccer games, help my mom with her garden and provide my daughter with the kind of upbringing I experienced? The all-American childhood?!
Some days it’s hard being abnormal. Some days it’s difficult being the person that goes against the grain and says ‘I’m going to do it my way…’
A nice fellow put a comment and quote to my article about what cruisers panic about and I think it’s the most apt passage to end my article. I suppose I know these things but often I fail to remember them in times of need:
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: 3:2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; 3:3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 3:4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 3:5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 3:6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 3:7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 3:8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. (From Ecclesiastes)
I suppose it’s time, or the season, for me to bring my home ‘home’ and I’ll just have to wait and see what that means for me.