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On the Wrong Island

Imagine you land on an island far off, undiscovered.

You don't speak the language, you don't know the culture or the social etiquette. It’s very busy and bustling. Lots of people coming up to your face.

It's noisy. Voices seem louder. It's bright and blinding.

You've been given some strange clothes that are itchy and uncomfortable, but you must wear because it's traditional.

You can tell who the people in charge are but you're not really sure what is expected of you. You're on edge, uncertain.

Day after day it's much like this. But slowly, very slowly you learn a few of the social rules and the language. It's not familiar or easy but, with concentration and effort all day, you can do it. At the end of each day you go home and you're exhausted.

Now, imagine you didn't realise there was another island just nearby.

If you went to that island, everyone speaks your language and you fit in totally, but you don't know.

All this time you just thought you were not good enough, too stupid or that there was something wrong with you because every single person seemed to speak the language and knew what to do, intuitively, to succeed and get along.

Year after year believing you should know this language and how to behave because you've been there for so long.

How would you feel about yourself after years and decades?

How lonely would you feel?

How long have you missed feeling understood and connected to?

How tired and exhausted are you?

What do you wish for?

Perhaps a day off to relax, to take off the itchy clothes, to turn down the volume, dim the lights, rest and be at ease.

If you knew about the other island nearby, what difference would that make to you?


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