I never really understood the value of community until recently.

As a loner, I’ve always felt the most comfortable in the presence of my own self. It’s always been safer, easier even, to stay away from spaces that call for socialisation and spend all my free time with myself. So of course exploring the world on my own has never felt particularly brave or out of the ordinary. But lately, what I have come to know as comfort, as safety, has almost turned itself into a noose. I have realised how fundamentally exhausting it is to not have a place to go to refill when you’re empty; to not have people around who know you enough to remind you of who you are when you’ve forgotten. To have spaces where you can just go and be, without having to explain anything. To have people who understand all the things you don’t say.

I have been craving community, a tribe, a group of people who can motivate and inspire me, for quite some time now. Unknowingly. The black hole that was robotic China sent me packing after 10 months of a deafening silence. I came to Phuket after a life-changing, soul-saving experience in India with the belief that there would be something here for me to tap into.

But instead I have found the missing gap of community growing, the emptiness festering beneath the beautiful beaches and transient energy of a place well-visited. Instead, I have found myself missing the Treeamigosgrowers family, and thinking constantly of this place.. of The Source.. up there in John’s Town, St. Thomas, a beacon of light on top of the hill. This could just be the manifestation of a traveler’s affliction.. the constant search for somewhere better, something new, plaguing me as it plays tricks on my mind. (No one ever talks about this part. The fact that once everywhere becomes home, so does nowhere..) But I think it’s deeper than that.

I have filled my eyes and heart with people and places that have changed me forever. Now it is my spirit that seeks to rest in a community where she can be nurtured. Where she does not always need to be the source of her own light. Where it is ok for her to be empty sometimes knowing that there are not only ancestral arms around her, but also physical arms that will keep her safe until she becomes full again. Where she can take her time to be so.

I miss this moment. I miss this place. I miss this feeling. But most of all, I miss people.

To those few who reach out to me periodically, I may not say it always, but please know that you are appreciated. To my soul sister Dani Ji who has been my voice of reason for almost a year now, thank you. To those who have never asked me how I’m doing, I appreciate you too. I send my love to all of you, especially those who read my writing, always. I’m forever grateful for this crazy amazing horrible beautiful tragic loving experience that is life, in all its ups and downs.