Same Boat, Different Island. ⚓️✨
My father’s rhythm was one of survival so that mine could be one of peace. Tonight, I’m looking at the life he paved from a seat of stillness.
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| Same boat, different island. He conquered the gale so I could finally enjoy the calm of the Sanctuary. |
I remember the calloused hands that never knew a ‘Shed.’
The rhythm of the old island was a heavy one—
Where rest was a luxury and the hustle was the bread.
We sail the same vessel, carry the same name,
But the waters have changed their tune.
He navigated the gale under a jagged moon,
So I could learn to be gentle with the flame.
Today, I walk the pavement he helped lay,
But I walk it barefoot, catching my breath.
There is no more fear of the ‘quiet’ or the ‘death’ of the day,
Just the Sanctuary, where the workaholic finally finds rest.
He conquered the storm so I could find the stillness.
Homecoming isn't just a place—it's the peace he paved for me.
Mesi, Papa. I’m finally home. 🏛️🪷🙏🏾
One of our own, Philo, shared something in the community today that hit home: 'The world seems to be in a rush but I choose to remain still.' It reminded me exactly why we build these spaces. We aren't just resting; we are choosing a different rhythm.
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