Virgin Gorda is one of those places that most people have never heard of – which is precisely the reason that I love going there. Nestled into the British Virgin Islands, and forming a border between the Atlantic and the Caribbean, this corner of the West Indies has been a favorite place for me for 25 years (this being my tenth visit). I’m not really much of a vacation sort of guy; I dislike resorts; and I can’t stand the thought of going someplace, absorbing their culture, and leaving. That puts me in a very small category of American travelers! But travel is definitely something that I love to do. The difference for me is that I need to feel that I am contributing to the local culture in some way. Generally, that means that I offer my services as a musician, playing a concert, playing for church services, giving a lecture, or, at the very least, paying for concerts and museums.
Of the ten times I’ve been to Virgin Gorda, probably all but the first one have included me playing a concert at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church. Canon Keith Gibson has been the steady priest there for nearly 60 years. I met him the first day I came to the island, and we made a fast friendship that has been in place all of these years. On four occasions I even stayed at his own home.
Canon Gibson is from England, having once sung in the choir at King’s College, Cambridge. He married a woman from the neighboring island to Virgin Gorda (where he has served as a missionary). And he has had a remarkable, and also humble, career on the island. But on this occasion, George and I played a duo concert which was his farewell concert. He and his wife are moving to a retirement home in England. I also had the privilege of playing for his last Sunday liturgy at St. Mary’s.
There was something incredibly humbling, for me, to be part of the last weekend Canon Gibson and his wife, Alma, are spending on Virgin Gorda and to give a musical offering to them as they leave. Virgin Gorda doesn’t have a regular organist for their liturgies. It felt very special for us to be able to make this offering at this time.
How will it change my connection to that island? The house that we’ve rented for the past three visits is now up for sale. My main personal connection to the island is moving away. And my first connection with the island had a breakdown and sold her house. All is temporal. Nothing endures except memories, love, and energetic connection. The trick is to be able to appreciate both the joy and the pain together – or as the Buddhists would say, the samsara and the nirvana. I see myself coming to a new appreciation of things in life. With all the travel, all the concerts, all the people, all the places that I’ve encountered in my life, I am often drawn towards nostalgia, almost in a self-pitying way. But that’s merely a trap that attempts to keep me endlessly seeking pleasure and escaping pain. In reality, the two exist side by side and need to be embraced together.
The New Age adage of breathing in clarity and breathing out pain is exactly the opposite of what the world religions tell us. In fact, we should breathe in our pain (in other words, get to know it fully, investigate where the pain comes from) and breath out lovingkindness. We are called to be lights in the world. Reversing the New Age adage really opens up that possibility.
Leaving Virgin Gorda, as I am as I write this, helps me remember that my real task is in blessing, not in being blessed. The enormous beauty of the island – with its perfect beaches, impossibly blue water, gentle winds, and warm heart – has indeed blessed me. The sadness I feel on departure needs to be fully experienced and transformed into lovingkindness for the lovely people I now leave behind.