molokai :: medicine woman
N O V E M B E R 2 9 , 2 0 2 2
steeping a rainbow sunshine bowl of plumeria essence :: balancing the light + dark // head + heart
gentle re-wiring // new pathways to joy
this morning i woke up by the ocean. on a tiny dot of an island, far out in the very center of the pacific. 🌊🌊🏝🌊🌊 molokai.
i rejoice in where i’ve landed
wild untamed alive
a home with a king bed that feels like a cloud
a drawer full of organic spices
a laundry line on the screened porch
where our clothes can blow in the ocean breeze and dry themselves in the warm sun. 🌞🌴🌺🛏🌶🧺
i walk down to the tide pools before dawn. attune my energy to the land. it feels new, even though i’ve been here many times before. i myself feel new. “time goes on, things change, and they stay the same.”
i drop into this body- this place. communing/offering/asking/receiving feels healing and wholling. 🤲🍃🐚🌺💎🌀📖
my new devotion is to root in deeply whenever i arrive in a new place. solitude, silence upon arriving. grow my energy down like roots into the earth, meet the spirit of the land, offer my love and attention, calibrate my system to the new environment. breathe in. breathe out. feel. open. receive.
it’s a miracle worker for this highly sensitive, cerebral, introverted mama.
help me find myself whole, help me embody soul.
i wander the red dirt trails to where the cliff breaks -- where the dawn crests and illuminates one small patch of sea. i say, “i love you” and look down to see a heart-shaped piece of coral. + she loves me too
molokai. medicine woman “walking with grace, i know your face, and i trust your hands.”
i ask her to unravel me (be careful what you wish for)
i need to get lost / get loose. god knows i want to break free.
i pray for the medicine of remembrance. the memory of deep connection.
illuminate the shimmering reality beneath reality, where energy is alive and clearly seen, where colors are beings of unfathomable dimension, where the interconnectedness of every material thing carries the scintillating radiant magic of energy++light. where the threads of the universal fabric are seen and felt. “tug on anything at all and you'll find it connected to everything else in the universe." { john muir }
the connection i’m seeking is right where i stand. by searching for it, i have disconnected. i disentangle the cords that tie my mind to the future, the stories of the past. my heart quiets the urge to act, to move, to make something of myself.
doing, in an attempt to achieve being. it never works.
my mind becomes cluttered with the myriad moves i could make,, my heart stills the call to action; tells me to stand still.
heaven is right here. enlightenment is right now.
acceptance is groovy (it’s a dance) -- it sways me to the rhythm of start stop, open close, in out.
ishvara pranidhana:: i surrender to the divine ebb and flow.
i bring my tarot to the beach. it tells me that change is afoot (yep). that an opening is widening and spreading.
seismic psychedelic soul shifts.
i press my body upon the sand/ billions of years of fractals at my feet. stones and shells and earth bones turned to dust by time. i wonder at my own refinement. will the boulders of self-limitation be worn down, become something new over time? can my undying commitment to personal evolution be the force that weathers their weary ass bones down into something soft, delicate, pure?
i wake at 3:30am \(hello, jetlag) and write my heart out.
i hike all morning, then swim in the sea, then lock myself in the upstairs bedroom with headphones and dance myself wild.
my family must be wondering what all that stomping is… nah, they know exactly what mama’s doing.
coming alive. getting free. i know i’m waking up when lots and lots of writing + dancing + swimming are happening.
the volcano erupts 123 miles away.
i harvest plumeria and hibiscus blossoms and make essences in the communal space behind the condos.
they infuse while i’m hiking in the forest on the north shore. it rains on the west side, where we stay,
but somehow just misses the condo where the flowers lay 🌋🌴🌊🧜🏼♀️🌦💦🌺
each morning after breakfast we go to the beach.
the sun, the surf, the salt. the sand. my favorite spa treatment.
my children tumble in the waves as i bask in the morning sunlight, feet covered in sand, spiral curls set free by ocean breeze.
these moments are the good old days. i soak them in through each of my senses, one by one. deliberately. mindfully. i shrink them down, fold them up, put them in my pocket to carry with me always.
remember, remember.
memory is a shore along the edge of time.
i lay my body at the end of the earth/ the threshold of the sea, enveloped in the heat of the sun, and melt into a puddle of presence.
