The ground was shifting beneath me again. I may be a "spiritual gangster" and shit, but my mind was still filled with uncertainty and my bones ached with the threat of loneliness which I knew would only intensify over the next two years while living on a private resort island in the Caribbean with a population of three hundred.
When I think about it, making the seemingly impulsive decision to drop everything, uproot my life, and start from scratch somewhere new is kinda my M.O. As much as I squawk about my need to feel grounded, moving to Turks & Caicos marks the third time in my adult life that I’ve done just that. So I had to ask myself “Am I just a spiritual wimp?”
