Life of MALA: One week left...

I am sitting on the futon in our living room in St. John. It is the same futon I sat on four months ago crying on the phone with my sister. I had just arrived and, if you remember, I was not adjusting well. I remember thinking I could just get a ticket home. It's what my sister told me too. "If it really doesn't work out, you can always come home," she had said.

I felt like I was back in spinning class in NYC. Upbeat techno music blasting in my ear as I sat cycling in an uncomfortable seat. An instructor shouting as loud as he or she could over the music: "Yea, alright, let's go, you can do it, faster, stronger, come on girl you got this." My legs burning in pain and not believing "You got this." Except my bicycle seat was this futon I am sitting on right now, and the instructors were a lot of you.

I remember people telling me "You're so lucky!" when I gave them the news I was leaving Manhattan for the Virgin Islands. I'd be exchanging my view of the back of another building to one of the ocean - of course I could understand the immediate jealousy. However, at the time, this was not my train of thought. I was thinking less about how I could sit at the beach on a Tuesday in February and more along the lines of "WHAT AM I DOING?" I was uprooting my life and it was terrifying. I stayed on that futon the majority of January, being depressed, sad, scared.

Then a few weeks went by. I adjusted. The city of ants that lived in our kitchen no longer fazed me. I learned how to sleep through the roosters hourly wake-up calls. I met amazing people. I saw amazing things. I received so much support. Of course the scenery helped, but what really helped me was most of you. The knowledge that there were people back home that believed in me pushed me through those first two weeks. People I didn't even know who had taken the time to write me a message after I announced I quit my job to tell me I inspired them.

I couldn't let them down. I couldn't go home right away because I was scared or overwhelmed. I had to stick it out. For myself. I had to try and inspire the people that weren't ready to take the leap of faith yet themselves. I had to prove myself to my support system of people back home. I had to keep cycling.

And now it's one week until I leave. I'll be back and forth between here and New York over the next few months. I have no idea what I'll be doing by next fall. I have no living arrangements. And it's ok, because I'm not scared anymore. Overwhelmed at times, sure, but not scared. (Ok, that's a lie. I am actually still scared of one thing in St. John: FLYING COCKROACHES. I can handle a roach on the ground that I can smash with a shoe. I cannot handle a roach that flies into your perfectly blown out hair as you walk into the room with your cell phone in hand. Because I will scream like a five-year old and punt my phone to the ground like a football after a touchdown.)

My point of this post (besides informing you that roaches fly if you didn't already know because I most definitely did not) is to say thank you. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for showing me so much love. Thank you for following my journey this far.

I came across an amazing website the other day and read a few words written by Ashley Ambirge that have really resonated with me. I just thought it fitting to end my last post before leaving St. John with them:

"For everyone out there thinking to yourself that it’s unrealistic, YOU ARE WRONG.

For everyone out there shackled by fear, telling yourself that you could lose everything, YOU ARE RIGHT.

And for everyone out there that, despite that knowledge, is still willing to risk it by fighting for something more out of this fleeting speck of time we’re granted here on earth, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO WILL TRULY SUCCEED.