NaPoWriMo #1: Tritina

Everyday I live the mystery of this truth.
The blood rushing in my ears are the whispers of my ancestors.
They watch me frazzled under their careful watch.

Life inflames my joints and heart ruled by the ticking of a watch.
The cats and seedlings planted await the emergence of my truth.
I pray because one day I will be one of the ancestors.

Free the flow of my movement forward, dear ancestors.
So long have I bereaved my soul and fell from my own watch.
Everyday is a chance to fall into the rhythm of our truth,

Lean in our ancestorsʻ truth and reset that watch.

April 8, 2016. 

Itʻs the 8th day of National Poetry Writing Month, a challenge my friend Cindy reminded me of the other day. The return to this blog is me working through my soul stagnation and life inflammation. Bits and pieces are starting to move, and I remember the parts of me that I used love. We all have muscle memory for parts we used in the past. Itʻs never to late to discover them again. I am true believer of this. I pray for this everyday, to chart my way to undiscovered lands never thought possible. More on this later. Sending love out to the universe. 

Where do you find God?

I found this quote today and it strikes me as important to remember.

"There are people in this world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread."  -Mahatma Gandhi

Critical Mass

I have never felt so free in my life.  To be on the other side, on the outside of  a car on the road. Experiencing the massive power of cars from the outside blew my mind as I remembered how I have treated bicyclists badly on the road.  "Disconnection" was another thought that ran through my mind and how I am detached to places and people because I depend on my car to transport myself to places. The rush in a car to get my little body from one place to the next does some weird mind trip on us.  The energetic detachment we create as we zip by in an auto, numbing us to places, blurring us to the ground we inhabit. I felt it so palpably as I wobbled my way on Kalakaua in the middle of Friday night traffic.  In all my life, I have marched, walked, protested, gone cruizin' as a teenager and driven my car many times down this mile stretch of road.  I had never ridden a bike.  It's such a simple act and I am puzzled why it would move me to tears as I recount to my friends the power of doing that.  

when one snorkels, you buy a mask for optimal vision.  in a car we stifle our ability to see our surroundings.  riding a bike is like snorkeling with a view of a world we don't have access to behind the metal and glass.

On Friday, August 28th, I rode in my first Critical Mass in Honolulu.  A wonderful friend of mine, Anjali, rides and had asked me many times if I'd join her.  I finally got a bike recently, so I was ready.  Got the bike tuned up because the gears were slipping (something I sorely found out on an uphill ride to the library near my house last week).   Borrowed my friend Grace's daughter's helmet, complete with a sticker of one of Malaya's friends, and decided to do it.

I must confess that I was nervous in the saddle as I have not ridden a bike regularly since I was 12 years old when I had a banana yellow Schwinn bike completely with streamers.  I am also not use to having gears to shift and skinny tires!  

There were about 25 riders, mostly men and someone who had jerryrigged a boombox to his bike.  It was great to ride with Bon Jovi blasting while we rode through Waikiki, tourists waving, motorists staring.   Someone brought gluten free cupcakes and a container of frosting.  We started near the Capitol and made out way to Ala Moana and then down Kalakaua through Waikiki.  Man, was I nervous because I am not used to riding with so many bikes. The fast bikers were in front, but I was nervous with Monique and Anjali riding by my side.   The cops didn't help because they kept yelling at us to keep in our lane and would ride between us to keep us in line.  Felt like we were herded like cattle by the 8 or so bike cops and the police cruiser who followed us.

Broken Record Conondrum

Lately, Iʻve been worried that I sound like a broken record.  What to do? Iʻve been wanting change for the past three years and progress has been slow in coming.  There is a list of things that need to be accomplished in order for me to pursue other avenues.  There are blockages and resistance on my part.  I can feel it.  Iʻve been wondering if I sound like a broken record to my friends who hear my plans and complaints.

I came across this quote today, "When in trouble, take a bath, and wash your hair."  Zsa Zsa Gabor said it.  Strangely, it brings me comfort. Washing my hair is just a small step.  In any case, here is something that may help me climb out of this funk.  Writing this has already helped me feel better.  To letting go of distractions and focusing on the steps to the future...Vamanos!

Coming back to home

So it's been a long time since I've been here and written anything. I'm inspired by my friends who have returned to their blog places, http://thewritelife4me.blogspot.com/ and also http://pukengkengliberationfront.blogspot.com/.

My keyboard clacks again. My mind and heart churn. Much has happened since my 40th birthday. This year I will be 43. Three years. Many miles I've traveled to arrive here.

I posted this on FB the other day after thinking about June Shimokawa and her passage to the other side. Daniel Berrigan, SJ wrote the foreword for Dorothee Soelle's book "Against the Wind: Memoir of a Radical Christian." The last line of it reads, "Stand squarely in the world. And once there, withstand." I thanked June for teaching us this way. She was a wonderful leader who believed in peace and justice and made it her life's work. Here is Rev. Debi Lee's interview with June for the API Women, Faith and Action blog. Enjoy listening to June talk about life, faith and action.

I'm glad to be back here in this space. May this return be fruitful.

Birthday wishes

On my 40th birthday, I have a few wishes for this world.   Albert Einstein once wrote: "A human being is part of the whole called by us 'the universe,' a part limited in time and space.  He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separate from the rest--a kind of optical delusion of consciousness.  This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and affection for a few persons nearest to us.  Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening the circle of understanding and compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."

I wish freedom of consciousness for all beings and all things,  widening ever our spirit.

A spirit that soars, entwines, and embraces.  For the future of our world, let this spirit grow stronger every day. 

Old Growth

Haena State Park, Kauai

"Old growth" TK says as we hike on our search for a heiau.  How the Hala can grow large, opening to the sky.  How much I miss this already only five days ago.  Green has been on my mind as I live in concrete suburbia of a planned community.  I yearn for the unrestraint of Kauai.   The smell of old growth. The sweet salt of clean ocean.

I hold these memories as I finish two books from the reading list for the VONA workshop I am attending.  Incognegro and The Kite Runner.  Incognegro was a fast read as it is a graphic novel, a mystery of the 40s sort.   Disturbing as it rehashes lynchings in the American South and one man's quest to expose the murderous racism.  The Kite Runner is a movie I did not watch and got on Netflix.  I could not bear to watch it knowing that it would be sad.  There was something to the starkness of Afghanistan I didn't want to see, for I am sure it would remind me of the occupation of Iraq and the conflict in the Middle East.  That week, I didn't want to think about it as my sadness can feel overbearing remembering our family's loss.  Reading the story inspires me to write and I am glad for the example of what a writer can do with personal memories.  What do we do with our experiences as writers? Isn't that the point of writing?  Old Growth.  Memories, smells, our experiences are part of my Old Growth.  I should not shy away from walking in that place and loving it as I love Haena.