Here I am. It took me a little while to collect my thoughts after returning from the big island of Hawaii. But here I am.
How was the trip? It can be difficult to explain the experience of spending a week on a volcanic healing island, in a blissful little cottage set on twenty acres of open meadows and fields and crazy cool trees next to a roaring and crashing ocean. Add yoga teachers, shamans, meditation areas, body healers of all kinds, hot pools, cool pools, a sauna and three healthy organic meals a day. Plus lots of tea. And kava. Oh and coconut water.
I stepped away feeling refreshed and relaxed, yes. But also quite changed. Some sort of metamorphosis happens in a place like this. Whether a person needs healing or not, it seems one inevitably steps away feeling better. And given the tools learned from the many healing teachers at Kalani, I feel like I came away with a greater knowledge of how to keep myself feeling better.
The first night we flew into Hilo, K and I took a cab to a bed & breakfast called Maureen's. Our cab driver, Benjamin, spoke with a thick Japanese accent and called Maureen 3 times the next day to see if we needed a ride to Kalani, even though we told him we had arranged a shuttle. Persistent fellow. Anyway, we got to Maureen's and it was this old mansion with wooden everything and big banisters and a huge open back porch with tea tables overlooking green green green and a koi pond.
We immediately needed to see the ocean. So we walked down the road and found a path that led to the beach. It was a bit of a long path - through winding trees with roots jutting into the ground from a foot up. Then there it was - the big crashing ocean, dark blue against a fading sky. We stared at it for a long time, walking around on the crunchy lava rocks, and then realized it was dark. We also realized we had to find the path back. Which we then realized we couldn't find. It was kind of pitch black.
Though my heart did flutter, we did not panic. Instead, I took a picture of Kathy and we realized my flash was a light. So we found the trail with the camera flash and kept flashing all the way back to the street. Then we kind of laughed at ourselves and went and had sushi.
When I was in about 8th or 9th grade, my sister Angie and I used to lie in our beds in our shared flower wallpapered bedroom (which we later painted white - very mod - and I moved my bed into the closet) before we went to sleep, listening to the Ooga Olympics on WRKR. People would call in and have to yell or scream OOGA in a crazy way and whoever did it the best won something like a dinner at the Ground Round or something. We really liked this. Anyway, after the Ooga Olympics and the Top Ten countdown, I diligently switched the radio station around and around until I found a song that I liked and would not go to bed until I found one. Then I would leave the dial on that station, thinking that it would give me a good chance of waking up to my alarm in the morning with a song that I liked.
Going to Hawaii was a bit like the radio station game I used to play. Searching and searching to find something that works and then setting the dial so that what's working stays with you. (even though that game usually didn't work quite right, sometimes it did. and a couple of time it was even the same song in the morning as it was at night. whoa). I think I'm going to stay on this station for a while. oooooooOOOOOga.