Hawaii, Day 1

written 1/23/17

I arrived in Hawaii with my sister and our friend today. 

As the plane took off and left the rainy coast of California, it came to my awareness that we were leaving Turtle Island, the mainland, North America…I was creating a whole vast distance of ocean between myself and the land I had lived on for so long…to go and create my life on this island as home. This island I had never been on before, but had been calling me since a certain age I couldn’t recall.

I had had this creeping, strange and compelling fear in the back of my mind since I decided to go to Hawaii. This fear of dying. Of the plane crashing and us never arriving, or maybe even surviving and living to tell this epic tale. I became aware of my fear of dying on the flight and I realized this fear was TRULY the fear of the transformation. It was, in a sense, the jetlag of my conscious self struggling to keep up with the rapidly changing reality, and the fact that I was changing. It can manifest itself as a fear of death, in a way, to evade the actual transformation. To escape the reality of change. But to the brave at heart, change will never be evaded, nor will transformation. They will come, and they do, because they are what we desire in our hearts.

We arrived at Kona airport and took our time slowly getting out of the plane. The air hit me instantly, warm and thick. The sun was hot. It felt like a whole lot more than 73 degrees. I was excited but lacked the anticipation of any of the things we would do. It seemed all our dreams had turned to a blank state in the face of the reality. Yet I was, still, aware of the fact that I had made it to Hawaii.

I felt a vague, anxious insanity creeping up over me – the affect of too many hours of flight, not enough food and certainly malnutrition. My breath was short, and I found it hard to appreciate where I was. Flight can do that. Maybe a little jetlag. Certainly more than a little tired and disoriented. Maybe it was the heavy metals in the air from the volcano - vog.

I took off my sweatpants and cheetah print coat (that I’ve been wearing every day for the past week) and felt the air on my bare arms and legs. Oh, it felt good. I went pee and found myself wandering around with vague self-criticizing thoughts and feeling like my thoughts weren’t really my own. 

It was hot, and we carried heavy gear. We received clear instructions to go up to the traffic light to hitchhike to Hilo, so we started off. I came up with a barrage of complaints and I felt totally helpless, weak, tired, hungry, dehydrated! I felt like a whiny, depressive spoiled baby. The state of mind rules all. I got to a place where I knew right in the spot of conscious choice that it was up to me, and right then and there I pulled all my energy back into my core and got up and with utter chipperness and a mad impatience, I charged ahead.

About midway through the arduous walk to the traffic light, which seemed extremely long but was within sight, I felt a joyous euphoria, a wild ecstasy in the act of pushing through the extreme discomfort!

I found myself feeling at my center, so solid in myself, that sense of personal power, expansive and courageous.

I thought, "My ancestors did this shit;" and it gave me strength.

That was followed by receiving a ride from a local within minutes of standing there with our thumbs out.

Followed by ride number two, which was received immediately after giving thanks for the orange slices from Ojai and feeling the aura of the power of this land.

Followed by ride numero tres, which was received shortly after connecting to the spirit of my grandma, and feeling her love for me, and receiving that message that she was going to help and bring us a wonderful person for our third ride.

Our third ride was, and is, amazing. We are currently sitting in his living room, enjoying salad after a big meal of fruits and after talking all day, starting with nutrition and spirituality, then going deeper into all sorts of spirals of conversation, and opening up to each other about our struggles. We are all sharing so much love, and I feel grateful to have been picked up on the Hawaiian countryside by this wonderful human.

I kept saying today, thanks Grandma. And I know she can hear me. And I know she will continue to help me.

We’re sitting and talking and connecting on a level that’s so valuable and being real and opening up to each other and asking for what we want and need and letting ourselves receive it and breathing and crying and laughing and relating and giving and sowing love…