Morning Prayers

Posted on Sunday, 2 March, 2008 by Rosa

It’s been my habit now to stop each morning, to take a moment to greet the sun and clear my mind for the new day. I want it to be automatic and not forced. I don’t want to have to remind myself to give. We so easily get caught up in life and living. Not stopping to see the beauty or letting ourselves feel the joy.

Blue gray clouds hang lazily over the Ko’olau mountains to the east. Above these great puffballs, thin wisps stretch across the sky. As I watched, they turned from a deep red orange to gold, and then silvery white against a blue jean sky as the light of the rising sun catches the underside. The sun lingered behind these great puffs, illuminating the thinner edges in light…a golden halo.

Silently I thank that which is greater than I, for a bounty of gifts.

Family and friends. Shelter and nourishment. Ability in body and mind.

May I be loving

May I be peaceful

May I be kind

May I be loving

May I be understanding

May I be patient

May I be loving

May I know peace

Love & Light

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Aloha Friday Gratitude

Posted on Friday, 29 February, 2008 by Rosa

Sometimes it difficult to see the opportunity staring you in the face. Spending close to $500.00 to replace a blown water pump, timing belt and other minor repairs is a hard pill to swallow. Eeks….I’ts not that I don’t have the money…I do. I just prefer to allocate it elsewhere. *grins* That camera I want is not much more than these repairs.

Being stuck at the house for the past two days -yes my choice as there is a decent bus system in Hawaii. I’m just too lazy to use it to get to work especially when there’s food and coffee in the house – was the opportunity to dedicate the time thinking about where I wanted to go and how to set up these three blogs. It’s somewhat of a large learning curve. I’ve spent the past two days glued to the computer. I have so much more to learn. It’s what I needed to do. After all, I asked for it. *grins*

I am grateful the water pump actually blew in front of the apartment and I didn’t have a tow bill to deal with. I milked it to the shop a few easy miles from the house. I found the owners delightfully honest. They graciously provided me with a ride home so I wouldn’t have to take a cab. In all the annoyance of car repairs, I was given the down time necessary to accomplish what I wanted. After all, I can’t exactly take pictures with any camera or sit on the beaches I Love without my trusty Subaru, now can I? *laughs*

I’m grateful it’s a beautiful day.

I’m grateful for being provided the ability to…

Hope your weekend is filled with opportunity and blessings.

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Mi Tio, Mon Oncle

Posted on Friday, 29 February, 2008 by Rosa

I have so many stories about him. Others have even more. He was my favorite Uncle.  He was my only Uncle. He called me his favorite niece. I was his only niece. That was our banter.

Short and pudgy like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, he gave the best hugs.  A sailor who worked on the first nuclear submarines and then later, for the electric company in a nuclear power plant. He hunted and fished many weekends.  There was always an air of humorous calamity in his presence.   A discernible energy; eyes sparkling with mischief.  I really think it’s why I am drawn to men who possess that same sparkle. I can’t conjure anything but fun memories of him.

He worked nights for as long as I can remember. We’d see him in the morning as my Aunt was cooking his breakfast. More often than not it consisted of a large steak, 6 eggs, fried potatoes and toast.

How would you like your steak David, she would holler from the stove just few feet away.

Under the armpit and once around the table,  he would laughingly bark in her direction, all the while looking directly at me.

The whole exchange was more a show at my obvious disgust of the bloody meat. Oddly enough, I grew into a fondness for bloody steak and hamburger.  And I love steak tartare. He shared his with me over my mother’s objections. It was his way of getting back at her a bit. She would never really interfere much when the two of us were together. I always picked up a hint of uncertainty, or maybe it was a bit of knowing mistrust in her voice when the both of us were together. I certainly can’t imagine why.

When he looked at the floor and remarked about how it needed sweeping; I knew I was in trouble.

Of course I could never escape as he chased me around the kitchen table. After much ado, sidestepping, and arm waving (ultimately knowing that however long it took was solely his to determine), he would pick me up, juggle me around and soon I was swinging to and fro by my feet; shrieking with laughter as swept the floor with my long, chestnut hair.

My Aunt would admonish him for getting my hair dirty. It wouldn’t have made any difference. He didn’t care and neither did I.  He swept the floor with my hair until I was too tall and my head hit the floor.

That was our banter.

He died a number of years ago.   A heart attack in his sleep.  It doesn’t really matter.

Mi Tio.   Mon Oncle.  My Favorite Uncle.   My Only Uncle.

I Love You.  Your Favorite Neice.  Your Only Neice.

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It's ok, I Have Others

Posted on Sunday, 27 January, 2008 by Rosa

My roomie is starting his 2nd round of training for NOAA Fisheries Observer. He’ll be leaving in a few weeks for extended adventures on fishing boats.

His new classmates are arriving and with the intensive class schedule the next three weeks, it was a brief opportunity to show them some of Waikiki.

We tripped about town with the group starting at the Beach Walk to see Ledward Ka’apana, ki ho’alu (slack key) guitarist. Slack key is uniquely Hawaiian. It was a free show that ended with hula dancers from the audience…you don’t get too much more local “culture” than this.

After the show, we buzzed back to the bunkhouse for Spaghetti dinner and numerous shots of tequila chased with beer. What an interesting group of people….most between 24-30 from all over the world, or world travelers, all biologists of some sort…*nods* Yes, I need the geeks. Feed my brain.

With all the festivities, we barely made it into Chinatown. And it was too late to enjoy the events leading up to Chinese New Year in two weeks. So instead, we meandered over to Bar 35 to catch a Chicago Blues band playing this weekend.

Sexual and sexy in all forms, dancing is an incredible release for me, and I suspect for most if they can let go, feel the music, and let it ripple through their body. You see, no one gives a shit what you look like, only that you do. And it’s one of the highest forms of compliments to a band.

I have no fear…no shame…about getting out on a dance floor anywhere, anytime. I needed it last night…releasing pent up sexual energy.
It took only as long as for me to grab one of the many beautiful porters from the 110 beer selection, for me to saunter on to the dance floor…5 feet or so from the band.

I was dancing…alone…watching his hands make those strings sing when lead guitarist Fernando Jones, (tall, lanky, smooth as my uncreamered kona coffee with an incredible smile and lively brown eyes. HOT baby, VERY HOT), moved to within a foot in front of me, his guitar and my pelvis now perfectly synced, eyes locked…now you don’t think I’d let any man challenge me and win easily, right ::wink::

An intimate fuck in a public place…he and I existed in that space…totally present…pure energy…I so love music orgasms. Bliss…pure bliss…


He tempted me three times…each time I took the bait willingly and wantonly. ::evil grin:: And captured the attention of an Australian gentleman. Me: shirt rolled up past my waist, low cut white capris, no shoes. Him: not too tall, blue eyed, long, curly haired blond…dirty dancing the last few songs…I almost came as he pressed his hard cock against my ass…a bit of tongue later…YUM…left my roomie and the others speechless. ::giggles::

Insatiable. Incorrigible. Slut.

Home in bed by 3am. Alone. ::sighs::

Didn’t get to the beach this morning when my alarm went off at 4:30. Not because of any hangover believe it or not.

Won’t get to go out paddling with the sistas I met last night.

All this to say…It’s ok, I have others…

All other 8 toes work perfectly…

It’s a shame I really need the two on my right foot to actually walk…Broken sometime early in the 2nd set when someone backed into me. ::shrugs:: Amazing what endorphins and beer do for pain…

I have to get to the store and by some proper tape for my toes. The scotch tape we used last night isn’t really doing the job.

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No Moon

Posted on Wednesday, 9 January, 2008 by Rosa

Knees planted firmly on couch
elbows resting, concrete ledge
leans out window.
Small brass lamp
glows softly
background illuminated.
No exhibitionism
most will not spot her perch
high above The Eagles Nest

A satin demi bra
houses mini breasts.
long drags on menthol cigarette
cool night air
blows across bare shoulders.
Gaze at the city below
soft equatorial light fades rapidly
Black is the Night.

Myopic vision produces hazy view
twinkles in the distance.
star shaped auras
around gold street lights
silver blue head lights
soft florescent green
glowing windows.
red streamers tail lights
ribbon highway.

Past the lights
not so far away
Black is the Edge
Black is the Night.

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Tides & Trails

Posted on Monday, 24 December, 2007 by Rosa

dsc00189i walked the beach this morning with the rising sun
searched the bits of life left behind in the trails along the sand

wood, shell, coral, leaves, seeds
plastic, wax, nylon, rubber, metal

the ebb and flow of the tide
always changing, re-arranging

like us
every second, every minute
every hour, every day

we’ve all left those little bits over the years
some rough and jagged
some shining with wonder and light

tread softly,
with kindness and love
you never know where you’ll see those little bits left behind…

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Letters From Paradise

Posted on Wednesday, 12 December, 2007 by Rosa

We’ve been talking about relationships. I told him that I have come to realize I require levels of intensity and intimacy that seem to go far beyond what most may consider normal. Maybe it goes far beyond healthy. *laughs* I don’t know. But it’s especially true with respect to romance and lovers.

It’s difficult to maintain that intensity, that intimacy. But I require it. Passion.

I’ve started writing weekly letters to him.

My script is feminine, graceful and flowing. Watching the words appear across the pages as if by some kind of magic in my hand has a seductive power. I’m finding the act of writing on paper is weirdly erotic.

There is an intensity surrounding the deliberateness of choosing words designed to paint a picture or communicate a specific idea to one person. It is highly personal and intimate.

It’s relaxing to sit with pencil in hand …luxurious in the hectic-ness of life. And it feels wonderfully loving to make that time for another. There’s pleasure in it for me.

It’s also an appealing tease…slow…letting the anticipation grow…sensual…sexy…passionate…

Taking away the flatness and giving it some depth is ultimately satisfying…

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The Stuff of Myths and Legends

Posted on Monday, 26 November, 2007 by Rosa

The moon setting this morning…
Veiled by thin clouds….softly illuminated with a clear silver light.

The sun rising this morning…
Bright yellow, gold and orange rays bursting forth over the horizon.

Opposite each other in the sky as if the moon was ceding the last vestiges of night over to the brightness of the day.

The rays from the rising sun made the moon look enormous against the lightening sky this morning.

Listening to the sound of the surf and turning from west to east and back again to observe each heavenly body (lani kino) perform their dance across the sky.

I can see how myths and legends were created in events like these.

The edge of eternity…

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Home Sweet Home

Posted on Tuesday, 13 November, 2007 by Rosa

I’ve been struggling with the where do I belong question since moving. Feeling like I was in limbo…Home-Less…not firmly planted anywhere.

On my visit to Colorado, I found myself being exceedingly careful in how I referenced Home. Referring to each place as either Colorado or Hawaii…unwilling to commit…or maybe just not wanting to imply too much of one or the other because of circumstances…of putting too many eggs in a basket so to speak. Leaving a door open….

This morning waiting to board my plane in Denver, I thought of that somewhat cheesy plaque you see hung by the kitchen or front door…

Home is Where the Heart Is

I realized that I will never be Home-Less

I am Homeno matter where I am geographically.

Home really is where I choose to place my Heart…whether that be 2 weeks in Colorado, the next year in Hawaii, or anywhere else I happen to be physically, emotionally, intellectually or spiritually…

Sometimes it seems my Heart is in many places and with many people at once.

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Opportunity

Posted on Friday, 12 October, 2007 by Rosa

She joined me on the beach for a bit after her walk. She had returned from a swim and suggested I come in with her. I laughingly told her of my issues.

Thoughtful for a second…she brightened and said, I have an idea. You are going to replace feeling yourself struggling in the water with the feeling of being in the pool doing laps. Follow me. I don’t exactly know why but I rose and hesitantly followed her to the waters edge. I was about an arms length behind her and with each step she beckoned me forward. She talked, affirming what I already knew about the beach here…shallow for a long way…the tide slowly receding…a small dip…there….up now…see, not so deep…let the water lift you…you go out a bit…you come back….

She must have sensed my un-comfortableness about waist high in the water. She talked me back to where the waves were breaking in the sand. Sit. I sat.

We played in the crashing surf like children for hours. Letting the waves crash around me, and over me. Feeling the salty water, tasting the salty water. I lay on the sand and let the water move me to and fro…back and forth…in and out…warm and cleansing.

Soon….
Sooner than I thought.
But then again…
I asked for many things the past few days.
It is given.

Yes, there is magic on this beach…


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Magic

Posted on Friday, 12 October, 2007 by Rosa

I finished my walk on the beach this morning, popped over to the farmers market and bought my weekly dose of fragrant white ginger stems. oh, and some of the apple bananas I like.

I returned to the beach as usual and grabbed my notebook…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There’s magic on this beach for me…

Last December I found my soul on this beach. I asked. It was given.

This beach has become sanctuary for me. It is here I greet the sun and quiet my mind with the rhythmic pounding of the waves. I ask. It is given.

This beach is also the familiar for me…

I’m starting to notice, or at least pull together some the little things I’ve taken in over the past 2 months. I’m feeling a little less overwhelmed.
We often don’t really see our surroundings…I know I don’t…I get caught up…autopilot in the familiar.

I’ve noticed how the sand ledge where I meditate has slowly shifted north about 50m. I shift with it.

I know where the sand is silky smooth, fine and white. I know where it grades or changes to coarse, tan and is infused with bigger bits of shell.

Watching the ebb and flow of the tides, I know where the beach is long and shallow under the roiling water.

I know where she, the mother, spits but of coral, small intact shells and smooth tumbled glass in green and brown. And I know where she gifts the fishing floats when I ask…

I’m starting to adjust the clock in my head and I am better able to tell time relative to the horizon and the sun’s path.

I can see winter coming with the amount of litter deposited on the beach, pushed up from an ever swelling ocean. It has a pregnant feeling.

I can tell if I’ll be caught in the driving rain and where it will likely occur on my trek up the beach. I know which ironwood trees offer the shelter I need as a temporary refuge.

I know where the tire swing hangs.

I feel like I’m dialing it in a bit…becoming intimate with a small part of my world. It feels good.

I saw 5 large Frigate birds soaring overhead here last week. That was when she told me there are spirits and magic on this beach.

I believe her.

I feel it.

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Healing

Posted on Friday, 12 October, 2007 by Rosa

She passed me on the beach last week. You know…some people just glow. She glowed. We grinned at each other…somehow we knew each others reason for being there.

I met her a few hours later that morning. John, the parks worker, introduced us. Ginny…originally from NY, spent much time in Santa Fe. Moved here 8 years ago. We talked story about the east and the west, philosophy, and this particular beach.

I was shocked when I heard myself say, I have something for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As John and I were talking about not seeing her this morning, she appeared from the parking lot behind us.

I gave her what I had carefully tucked away last week.

She took a light green bundle wound with twine out of the car and carefully set it down. I sat on the ground…her on her haunches. I listened as she told me the meaning of each one.

She lit the Sage. Sandia, she said. The slightly acrid but sweet smell filled me as I breathed deeply.

She passed the sage over and around…blessing the feather gift. Chanting, chanting…

She passed the sage over and around…blessing me.
Chanting, chanting…

She gave me healing medicine…medicine of compassion…medicine of love…and the medicine of my ancestors.

She stood and drew in the Ironwood needles littering the sand. Chanting, chanting…
And instructed me on how to call my protectors and ancestors to protect and guide me on my path here in Hawaii.

My face was wet with tears as she picked up the wooden flute and played the mournful notes…healing she said starts on the inside…find some way to let it out…a little at a time…it will all follow eventually

She stubbed out the sage in the sand sending it down into the earth and to Pele for safekeeping.

I’m sitting at the table here…writing this and waiting for her to return from her walk up the beach. She has promised to show me her paintings and sculpture.

Yes, there is magic on this beach.

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Overcoming

Posted on Tuesday, 9 October, 2007 by Rosa

I was always a strong swimmer, despite not learning to swim until the age of 8 or so.
Mountain lakes, streams, ponds, the ocean and of course the pool.
Between the age of 12 and 16, essentially all through middle school and into high school I swam at the Y every day I was able. Four to five times a week I completed 50 laps in an Olympic pool. That was after warming up in the lap pool for almost an hour.

Rewind: 35 odd years ago
We had been at the Jersey shore early in the summer. I remember the gulls chasing us for getting too close to their nests in the dunes. Buggers, they drew blood and chased us off. I think I was 14 or 15.
Beautiful, hot day. Cold Atlantic water.
So we swam. Patti and I. I guess I was out pretty far. Saw the lifeguard motion me closer. I started back.
I don’t remember much more.
Being tumbled
Gulping air
Choking
I remember giving up.
Relaxing into the powerful undertow
Complete and total surrender
And then waking? On the edge of the beach…coughing
WOW. I can’t believe I’m alive
The rash hurt for days.

Until 2 months ago I had never re-entered the ocean
I haven’t been in a pool since I was in HS
Others taught my children to swim.

We had gone to Turtle Bay here on the North Shore
At chest high in the water as the swell lifted me off my feet and even with him standing at my side
Instant Panic
Take me BACK
NOW.

Early this morning:

IT called to me
Soon I think I will be able to let IT envelope me
Wash over me

I stood for a bit and let the water slosh around my thighs
Alone with the rising sun
Soon

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How Special is This

Posted on Monday, 8 October, 2007 by Rosa

I have seen a rainbow every single day I have been here

a waxwing perches on the ledge outside the window and talks to me

Orchids here are cheap so now I have 4

Saturday Farmers Market is in the park across the street

I can see both sunrise and sunset from the apartment.
Living in a corner apartment where 2 of 4 walls are windows means I have a view of the sun rising behind Diamondhead from the living room, and sunset from the bedroom.

pretty damn special *grins*

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Earth Songs

Posted on Sunday, 7 October, 2007 by Rosa

I think I am loose(n)ing my mind

I came across this looking for something else I jotted down the other day

forgot it even happened late last night
I had been stretched out on the couch talking to brotherfriend
must have dozed off

I remember…
frantically grabbing my notebook
glancing at the clock
10:57 pm

The voice in my head
a male voice
said write this
The first image was of the Banyan tree from my walk a few weeks ago…its arms spread wide

the rest of the images like a slide show
flipping rapidly in my mind
words coming faster than I could record

And the trees sing:
I am ancient
I have heard
I have seen many things

And the sun sings:
I am warmth
I am light
I am life

And the moon sings:
I am cold
I am darkness
I am light

And the stars sing:
I am the guide

And the wind sings:
I have traveled
I have a song

And the water sings:
I am power
I am life

Many songs into ONE

Musta gone back to bed. I woke on the couch this morning with the cover he had thrown on me before he left for work. Never even looked at my notebook sitting on the counter….until now.

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