The imagery of the island has been with me a long while and especially showing up during lockdown, in a good way.
So I thought I’d put pen to paper to decipher what it means to me and what the message is.
All good stories have an Island, at least the ones I’ve read. My favourite heroes and my daughter’s all thrive on idyllic islands as do some of the bone and flesh real life people that I am inspired by. I mean if you have an island, a map and a story to tell you’ve made it – right?
I’ve long amusingly (joke on repeat) thought that as Hugh Grant in About A Boy despite everyone telling me noone’s an Island, I was in fact Ibiza. I think there is something comforting for me there, the idea of a wild, beautiful space that’s just big enough to hold my best people and my introvert loves the coziness of that picture of Eden.
Of course I’ve also been fascinated by the idea of Wayfinders for years too, skilled in the Old Ways to find the next island for their community to settle on, rather more like fishing their islands out of the sea and pulling themselves towards their destination. And using ancient practices to navigate the world to harmony.
The theme of the outcast, exiled from its past is obviously showing up too but I am all so familiar with it – very much at peace. Safety in what you know. There is a double edge to it, being cast away only to realise you made the choice to steer away from what does not feel nourishing. Walking your path independently with agency.
The island to me feels like the hearth, the place you’ve dropped the anchor and found true belonging. And do you need the whole world to belong, or can you, as Toko-pa Turner talks about, belong to yourself and the things you love? Knowing that you can take that belonging with you everywhere you go. In your sovereignty creating shelter for others.