If you’ve wondered where this column has been when you picked up your “Conch Color,” for the past few issues, it’s been only in the online addition. I’ve been writing this column for over two and a half years. It was summer of 2006 and I’d just completed a novel as part of a  Master’s in Writing Popular Fiction when Tom, our publisher, agreed to take a risk and allow an unconventional column like mine be a part of this wonderful paper. Tom has always given me total freedom to write about any topic from psychology, spirituality to local and national events with a spin on how we can interpret anything that happens to us from the perspective of looking at ourselves and our part in the process. I’ve been blessed to continue writing this column during my great period of transition over the past few months.

As you know, I’ve moved to Kauai, Hawaii and for the last five months I’ve been stripped bare of all that was familiar to my life in Florida. My son started college and after living in Key West for almost thirty years, I’ve found myself in a new place, beautiful as it is, without a job, friends, or the familiarity of running into someone I knew almost anywhere I’d go. I’ve realized how much my sense of security was tied to all facets of my life in Key West. I didn’t know the challenges and opportunities I’d be facing when we made the move, and I’ve had a lot of time to “just look at myself.” I’ve faced fears on levels I didn’t know still existed and have had to rigorously practice what I’ve preached in this column. My ego is ruled by fear and insecurity wants me to stay safe and fall back on the past. But, I cannot cling to the old and enjoy the new at the same time. I cannot be the person I was and the person I am becoming. The caterpillar must entirely let go of its former life to emerge as a butterfly.

In this process I’ve experienced an “inner death,” allowing me to leave something old and no longer useful behind to step into my new life. It’s the death of changing form, a letting go of what was in order to embrace the next step on my adventure.  Our potential is the one bank account that we can always cash in on for it never runs out. Our capacity to be great is Spirit’s investment in us and no one on earth has the power to take that away. If we are not changing, growing and deepening our sense of wonder, we’re probably spinning our wheels in a routine or have painted ourselves into a corner. We must be careful not to mistake stagnation for safety.

Like with any training or schooling, there comes a time when we must practice what we’ve learned. My intuitive guidance has told me it’s time to move on, so friends, this will be my last column for a while. I’m daring to move ahead. I followed an inner call to start writing this column and I’m following an inner call to take a break right now.  Alan Cohen, in his book Dare to Be Yourself, says, “A raft is an excellent tool to take you across the river, but it’s an awful burden if you try to carry it on your shoulders once you’ve reached the other side. Every tool and path is temporary, but each one ultimately leads to the infinite.”

Thank you, dear readers, for joining me on this incredible journey of looking at ourselves no matter what’s happening on the outside. Let’s continue to walk our path with love, dignity and commitment, but let it go with the same conviction when the time comes. There will be always be a new, wider and brighter path and we’ll never walk alone.

Please continue to write to write to me at sandyislands@hawaii.rr.com and feel free to browse all previous articles under publications at www.sandyislands.com