For two and a half months, I escaped the rain and cold of Seattle, living on a tiny island across the bay from Panama City.
While on Isla Taboga, I continued to work, thanks to the internet and email and Skype. All useful tools. I volunteered at an artists’ cooperative where I met people from all over the world who were visiting the island. I ate sum-ripened fruit, fresh fish and lots of vegetables. I swam and walked and sweated out toxins. It was a gradual process that led to a healthier me. Healthier than I had felt in a long time.
There was something else at work though. Something I didn’t realize until I returned home.
As I turned on my phone after our plane landed, I heard the beeps and saw a considerable number of texts and voice mails that had accumulated over the time…
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