The region has over 700 islands. And then there are the endless reefs, islets, cays and deserted beaches. Somewhere, with all that natural beauty and unpeopled goodness, there has to be a spot where you can find absolute aloneness. I, the millennial or stepchild of the modern age, was looking for the first time to just be all alone. I was banking on the Caribbean to help with my request.
If you’re looking to switch off, to escape that “always on” addiction that the 21st century has bestowed on us, well then it’s to the islands one must go. Or so was my thinking.
The name, “karr-ə-bee-ən”, with the primary accent on the third syllable, somehow says everything. The imagery of soft sand, swaying palm trees and that unmistakable smell of coconut oil immediately takes up dream space. It’s the perfect imagery for a meditation app like Headspace, that everyone’s using to keep their minds still and single-minded. It’s the vision of something so pristine, so perfect - yet so right now and, after all, meditation just loves that. But it was time to make all this intangibility, completely and utterly touchable and solid.
So choosing where to go find this, so called “switch off” was a task in itself. Not easy since there are just so many places to choose from, each more beautiful than the next – but with some determination alone time must be found. Almost throwing a dart onto the map Jumby Bay, just off Antigua, popped out at me. And really how could I resist – it is bona fide downright beautiful, it’s undisturbed and it’s a quick flight from New York.
The island, which is a Rosewood Resort, is only reachable by boat and no cars are allowed anywhere near it. Immediately this was adding to my idea of “nobody will be around” checklist and I was envisioning finding myself alone and quiet rather soon, as I entered the realm of simple pleasures in my mind.
The lessons learnt in solitude, I just knew, were worth having. The Buddhists, of course, say you can learn more about yourself just by sitting quietly on a cushion on the floor than going to classes for ten years. They may have slightly overstated that, but the notion seemed noble to me. And really, I had no intention of sitting in those types of classes again, ever in my life, having people talking at me in the most constrained way of learning. Just sitting quietly, by my lonesome, seemed so much more the way I was keen to take in some wisdom.
But solitude had some kind of bad reputation – think about the way the world is always trying to couple you up with someone. Whether at work or in love or even just in friendships - it’s all about team work or team play or being in a partnership of some kind. I was already hearing the cheer squads with their “there is no I in team” catch phrases blaring down my throat. Just think about the idea of telling people you were going away, all by yourself. The faces are priceless.
I was ready, ready to go on this island journey by myself. Wasn’t it Thoreau that said: “The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off.” I, for one, wasn’t waiting any longer. To the islands!
Nobody around so I asked a seagull to take this photo, of course
Antigua, the greater island, is pretty low-key and has a population of roughly 30,000. Even though Oprah has a house here, the island is relaxed and uncomplicated. But being able to hop to a private island, nearby, makes more sense for this desperate seeker of proper seclusion. And so, that’s what I did.
Islands, especially small private islands with very few people and a handful of staff, have a rhythm that’s fully in your body. It’s not in your mind. The beat sits squarely in your physicality and you feel it the moment you step ashore. Jumby Bay felt exactly this way – of course these white powdered beaches help and the feeling of remoteness couldn’t hurt either. My mind lost itself and I was fully present in my body. And as my friend Lauren, who meditates and is a much better person than me, says: it’s an actual “return to your body” as we are intended to do.
I have thought about the most valuable parts of travel, and of course of what real luxury is, and my conclusion (yet again) is – it simply is space, time and freedom.
Those three magical, and effortless words, are what real travel should be about. This one-of-a-kind hideaway island was offering these, in just the right amount of excess. I could see the time just floating right by me, no rush, no constraints – just endless amounts of nothingness. And then the freedom that comes with it, well that unbridled feeling away from technology and people feels almost primal. I was sure that once upon a time the hunting primitive man used this “alone time” to really think – and more importantly, not think. Of course, space was a plenty here and horizons seemed too far away to ever consider. That came with the territory, as a little gold star extra.
Nothing else could distract me, to the ocean I must go. I lay around on the beach for a few hours, listening to the quiet hush of the far away sea and nearby lapping of waves. Hours, which really could have been days, went by and nighttime bundled around me. Although my villa, inviting, elegant and simple, was only a few feet away all I wanted was to swim in the mighty beast of an ocean in the dark sky of the evening.
Speedo on, flip flops off. The idea of bobbing in the giant mass of water of inky blueness felt so inviting, so absolving I almost floated into the water from the beach. Jesus may have walked on water, but I had no fantasy like that. I wanted to be fully immersed in this blackness of ocean. Just by myself.
The island suddenly looked further than before as I started to drift out a little more towards the farther sea. For a brief moment the lights, which I could previously see brightly on the horizon, started to flicker. And then they were gone. My legs were softly bicycling themselves under water and my arms just sprigged out. I was floating and the night sky was my very own corsage of stars. The moon knew I wanted to be alone, and so abandoned me just the way I was hoping for.
In a sort of Caribbean spirit, I guess I fell asleep or entered a semi dream state. But at the same time the lucidity and the feeling of being isolated and happy came over me. I didn’t then intend to meditate, or to do something related to my wellbeing – but the feelings of being coddled by myself and being fully integrated in myself started to really sink in strongly. What was this? I was finding a new version of who I am? I thought, very seriously in fact, that I had already established exactly who I was and was secure in exactly that fact.
But then it dawned on me, as the philosophers and wise men and women say: “the work is but never done.” I was simply, with the generous aid of a silent private island and some water, uncovering just another layer of the self. And this is what they (whoever that may be) refer to as “the work.”
Traveling to islands, and remote places, has always appealed to me (not more or less than going to a big city for instance). But it has definitely beseeched me in a different way – almost in a “this is what you really need” kind of way. We travel because we want to see the world, yes absolutely. But we really travel because we want to see ourselves. Our real and authentic selves that is.
One might argue that it’s not necessary to leave home to do this. And yes, the argument will hold true, for sure. But then again, the day you find yourself alone on an almost-deserted island perhaps it’s the perfect time to ask the questions that somehow just naturally come up. Aloneness, alone time, or whatever you call it (solitude does have a nice ring to it) offers this up without having to explain anything to anyone – well, except to yourself. Some of these questions have answers; others burst and offer nothing at all.
If we’re trying to make sense of the world, to find our place in the world and to “live a fulfilling life” as so many say they want – well, should that journey not start with the self? Taking a moment, on the island if you will, to be alone and to really sit, or float as in my case, with yourself, is when you face the real self. With zero distractions for once I might add.
Perhaps nothing in the universe could be so valuable? Even when you have a loved one waiting for you at home, in the other world. Or maybe even, especially then.