An Island All to Ourselves
a morning of meditation, journaling, yoga, and a picnic brekkie!
I would like to begin by giving you some questions to ponder…What would your perfect morning look like? What would you do, where would you go, who would you spend it with?
I sometimes like to ask myself things like this, and journal about my answers, as a gauge for how I’m doing in life. How different is my typical day from my ideal day? I find this simple check-in to be so informative. Who says you can’t make your ideal day your everyday? Recently, I’ve been quite pleased with the results. Hence this little story…
To note, I did not explicitly ask myself this question before crafting this wonderful morning, which I think is partly what made it so special. This was truly just a random Monday!
Perrine and I were anchored in Camden, Maine, a charming town on the west side of Penobscot Bay. We just so happened to be there for the Camden Classics Cup, a regatta that filled the harbor with gorgeous, well cared for, shiny old sailboats. It’s one of those harbors that is beautiful to look at from the water, with its church spire standing tall amongst the layers of docks, boats, houses, and dark green forested hills. A sort of beauty in the mundane.
In the middle of this already-picturesque harbor, rose a wooded, rocky island with a simple lighthouse atop its seaward side. After preparing breakfast for our guests and leaving them to pack (they would be departing that afternoon), Perrine and I set out to paddle around this little island, unsure whether or not there was a way to get ashore. We made a lap, then returned to the small beach we’d spotted to land the paddleboards. There lay a long wooden stairway leading up to a dreamy, sunlit meadow. Scampering up the steps, our eyes lit up when we discovered that the clearing formed a wide, grassy lane leading to the lighthouse on the other side of the island. Halfway down the path was a simple swing hanging from a tall branch. The whole scene was straight out of a storybook.
Skipping barefoot down the lane (stopping, of course, to swing on the swing), we made our way to the lighthouse. An old lighthouse keeper’s house stood next to it, closed up and abandoned (though only recently so, according to some locals we met later). Peeking in, we could see a warmly lit room with a desk overlooking the sea. Soft morning sunlight filtered in through the old windows. A single kerosene lamp stood on the desk, as though waiting for someone to take a seat. Mmhm, I could sit and write a book there, I thought to myself. A few steps further, a couple benches and a picnic table were scattered along the coastline next to the lighthouse—more perfect spots for reading and writing and pondering life.
Pulling ourselves away from this magical spot (seeing as we still had guests aboard), we walked back down the lane to our dinghy, crafting our next morning’s adventure…We would begin with meditation, followed by coffee and journaling, then some yoga, and finally a breakfast picnic with fresh-picked raspberries. Does it get any better than that?! We felt like we were creating our own summer camp!
When morning arrived, we woke up giddy for our little adventure. We put our coffees in thermoses and prepped our yogurt cups, putting some homemade granola in a baggie. We landed the dinghy on the beach and walked up the steps like we owned the place—because for these early-morning hours, we did. It is a special feeling to know with certainty that you are the only person on an island. It feels as though you’ve been let in on a secret the rest of the world doesn’t know.
We set up our yoga mats side by side on the cement platform in front of the lighthouse, which happened to be a strangely perfect size for two yoga mats, and settled in for a short meditation. A light breeze covered the flat blue water with small ripples, and we watched as a couple lobster boats checked their pots in the distance. I sat, eyes closed, letting the warm sunlight and cool earth seep into my skin, imagining that I was soaking up each and every drop of grounding energy the world seemed to be giving me in that moment. I smiled to myself. Oftentimes, it’s the simplest of moments in which I feel the most gratitude. This then reminds me that these little moments can be found in any ordinary day. All it takes is a pause to notice them.
I’ll leave you here, with the rest of our morning left untold—a little piece of memory to keep for myself. I encourage you instead, to finish the story for yourself…What would you do with two hours undisturbed in such a peaceful place as this? Maybe, just maybe, we can create small moments like this in our days more regularly. A shift in perspective is often all it takes to turn a mundane moment into a memorable one.
