Faraway Farallon Hitting Close to Home

I once read a book about the Farallon Islands. Sharp and jagged land, holding many mysteries. Sometimes my mind feels like a Farallon Island. Untamable and dangerous to explore. When I reach back into my memories, think to far into the past, I run the risk of getting sliced, scratched. The islands go through distinct seasons, as do I.

Shark Season. White sharks migrating through. There are some times where I feel confident, dangerous. Lurking through life knowing that I hold the power. The power to chose, the power to dance unafraid for I am the alpha of the water.

Seal Season. Elephant seals beached and breeding. There are some times where I feel content, I feel growth. Outstretched and happy, using my time wisely and trying new things. In this time I grow, my knowledge expands. I feel each steady wave and swell in the support of my heard. Healthy.

Whale Season. Humpback, blue and gray whales, some seen, some hidden. There are some times where I feel uneasy, off balance. I feel shadows passing through the water. They make me stomach shift and leap, but I can't quite get a glimpse of them. Massive issues, and feelings unfelt rolling beneath the surface.

Bird Season. Petrels, gulls, puffins and others, shuffling and nesting. There are some times that I feel anxious, somber. Anxious to settle, overwhelmed, barely grasping onto the shore. Heart fluttering, wings beating against me, beaks picking at me feet and hands. Scraping my arms, battering my ears with squawking. I burrow in my nest, pick at my wounds, and wait for the season to pass.

This book changed my perspective on a lot of things. Surprising to feel such clarity and connection while reading about animals on a small treacherous island. But, there is beauty in everything. I am the jagged land, but I am also the life it holds. The mystery, misery, birth, and death. Seasons.