The Power Of One~

Yesterday. My morning. I rose with the sun, whose radiant rays found me with a hopeful heart. The birds were chirping. A soft breeze skipped across the North Shore. Not a cloud could be seen for miles. I was fully present in this moment and knew that I had a delightful plan for the day just waiting to unfold.

I had called my friend Lam, and we giddily arranged to meet for a picnic in Ala Moana park on his lunchbreak….he even promised it would be complete with my favorite…sushi J Yes, this day was going to be fantastic. Sitting on the beach. Catching up with one of my favorite friends. Being soothed by the soft ebb and flow of the Waikiki waves. Yep…everything was coming up roses~

* Cue the thorn(s) *....

Before it was time to meet Lam, I had several errands to run…all disappointingly indoors—one was even located at what I have non-lovingly dubbed as the dreaded “Ala Moana Monster Mall.” Each time I frequent this establishment, (which I attempt to keep at a frequency less than * or at least equal to * the number of times teenaged kids WILLINGLY discuss "the Birds and The Bees" with their parental units), I have noticed that I most often leave the premises with at least a slight twitch, or a nervous tremor. I just can’t wait to get back to my car and chant my Stuart Smalley-esque affirmations…* most often as I rock to and fro in the drivers seat * “I am me…and I am okay!” J Yes folks, here at the Monster Mall is where it’s all happening…frenzied and frantic consumerism at its finest.

As I was running around, being bumped and jostled….careening into bony elbows, and doing my best to avoid the little midget children zigzagging haphazardly to and fro underfoot, I kept myself sane by reminding my heart that in T-minus two hours I would be on a beautiful beach with my bestie. One more deep breath, and on we go! Finally, after all errands were completed, and I feel as if I have run the Honolulu marathon as a three-legged race * my partner being a 400 pound, blind man with asthma ,* --the time for my perfect picnic had arrived! Oh joy!

With a skip in my step, and a sparkle in my spirit, I swing wide the sliding glass door opening into the parking lot. And what, I ask, is awaiting to greet me? RAIN. Dun Dun Dun! L I was crestfallen. My idyllic day is ruined….rained out…woe is me~

Eeyore, embodied in human form, I reach for my phone. As the grey storm cloud looms over above me, I type my companion a text, announcing our day’s doom. The death sentence for our perfect picnic contained one single word of depressing finality--: RAINING.

The instantaneous response I received back contained also one word--: RAINBOWS.

Awakening Awareness~

Lam saves ONE full day. With just ONE word….and ONE different pair of eyes~

Praised be such beloved souls who surround us in life…who see the scattered light that breaks through....and who choose to focus on all the beauty that is promises~

Perfect Perspective~

Weddings. Oh, yes, a wedding! That once in a lifetime event (one hopes at least) that every young girl dreams about her entire life…that climax to all teenage angst-ridden romantic longings of finding “the one!” The fairytale ending; The beginning of a new and exciting chapter in life; A tangible initiation into adulthood; A ceremony symbolizing newness, and the offering of hope to a couple embarking towards a bright future together. A W-E-D-D-I-N-G! Let us all please pause for one collective romantic ……* breathy sigh * (Were your eyes lifted heavenward, your heart all aflutter, and your hands clasped together as well? ….Kudos to you, then)~

Yes, weddings are a big deal. And at these weddings, most expect a beautiful and dramatic cake as one centerpiece of the event. This past week, yours truly was commissioned by a dear friend, for help in creating one of these said confections. And when I say “creating”…I really mean “constructing”…for this cake morphed into one monster mo’ fo! Literally seeming to come alive, (in the sense that it GREW, and GREW, and GREW in epic proportions, as we toiled over its triple-layered tiers!), by the time our little cake-monster fully developed into adulthood, I was quite ready for it to leave its nest of birth and fly far, far, far away…oh, very far…*at least until I had a full nights’ sleep!* …then maybe I would have more feeling of love for my sugared-spawn~ And that’s a big maybe…

Okay, maybe I jest at how stressful this endeavor was for my colleagues and me. And maybe, * I mean we are talking about me! * I may have embellished a few details to make your heart twinge ever so slightly more deeply. Guilty as charged J However, the fact does remain that we were, indeed, working under an immense amount of pressure in regards to being the bearers of the bride’s one and only wedding cake. There were to be pictures (insane amounts at that)…so many, in fact, that by the end of the evening the beautiful and blushing bride will feel as if her face is about to melt off, --her cheeks, most noticeably, will ache for want of rest…the ceaseless barrages of “And, SMILE!” bounding at her all evening from the frenzy of well-wishing photographers * professional and otherwise * ~ As well as pictures, there was to be the absolute adoration of the attendees to attain, * as well as the possible scorn and snobbery of the what I call the “Gucci-guests” to avoid * Yes, it was, indeed still a certified stress-inducing undertaking.

As we went through the process of making the cake, I realized intermittently that I would go through peaks and valleys of my emotional mountain. * What a crazy a** hike that is most days, my friends... and NOT one for the faint of heart, I assure you! * As we laid out the initial blueprint of the cake construction, I felt my heart starting to beat slightly faster…that old familiar bead of sweat began tickling and teasing my brow, in hopes I would let it escape down my cheek….yes, the two telltale buddies that herald the arrival of Andy’s overwhelm. * Valley one * I noticed this and staved off the approaching angst by being proactive and suggesting a list be made…order this chaos, yes please…haha, bastard buddies..you lose, and my beloved (oh how beloved!) control has been restored to the scene! * Peak one* Such continued the day, (peak to valley to peak) for a marathon stretch of well over twelve hours. After having painstakingly rolled fondant, measured layers, stacked and sealed seams, fluted flowers, piped icing, and aesthetically adorning all, (and, of course, making sure it was, indeed, colored to match) my friends and I were so exhausted. Applying the finishing touches, we surveyed our creation.

My eyes immediately went to the * what I know must be blatently obvious! * one stripe that was slightly off center. My friend Sharon was crouched closely to the bottom layer, convinced that the entire cake was crooked. “Was that flower supposed to be there?” “Did the bride want beads lining the edge, or would she hate these?” “Oh my Gawd! Is that a crack in the fondant?” Yes, I warned you the entire process had not entirely been a walk in the park! Our perfectionistic perusal continued as we microscopically went over the surface of the cake. Enter the third helper, BJ, who took one look from across the room and exclaimed with such affirmation and excitement: “AWESOME JOB GUYS! Looks great! ” I stopped, Sharon stopped…we looked at each other…we looked at BJ, weighing his intentions * yep, pure *.... and then we stepped back and took a second look.

What a beautiful cake it was--Made with love and the best intentions…filled with sweetness and infused with such hopes and blessings to a couple beginning their new life together. This cake, was indeed, perfect~

Love By Any Other Name...

A fellow sojourner had some amazing insight and additional perspective regarding my most recent post. I am copying her thoughts here and encourage anyone who hasn't read it, to do so, so you can truly hear her voice and, that, in turn, my thoughts may also have a place within contextual walls.

Our friend was lamenting over society's convoluted concept of love: " i meant love, romantic love...[..]..i'm not disillusioned, what's elusive is love itself. who could define or measure? our society seems to idealize it therefore many suffer from unnecessary heart breaking."

I sadly agree with her take on the state of society's mindset. I see our present population as having a very unrealistic view of love, therefore making it so elusive that it is cruelly unattainable in the vessel of a human counterpart. She mentioned how we idealize love...as in, making it (love)... (or at least our idea of love), as the ideal, or end objective goal--the dangling carrot we are desiring to obtain and possess.

Like this beautiful woman, I too have been affected by such ridiculous and rude expectations....completely cruel in their disregard of my own reality and heart's well-being. I think of this with such an aching, and pray that society *myself included* would embrace love that is fierce with reality...and rather than idealize it, that we would RESPECT it...Listen for it--and then PRACTICE "it"~

I was thinking more about this, what I see as a breathtaking, ferocious love...one that is palpable in life--is felt, and shown, and a force to be reckoned with, rather than some sweet, ethereal cotton-candy coated ideal. I thought of a quote I recently read of one of my longtime favorite authors, Lucy Maude Montgomery. She said: "What had seemed easy in imagination was rather hard in reality."

I think *without getting on a soapbox here* that maybe where things are breaking down, or simply getting lost in translation, is in the illusion *ideal* of love that we humans have bought into. It is fed to us daily through media-meals, romance novels, Hollywood films, even in gazing *short-sightedly* at one another's relationships *not realizing there is always more than meets the eye*. Real love is tough. It's not sweet all the time. It's hard to chew, and often hard to swallow. It is tiring to practice. It is elusive to "catch." It is often hidden due to the fact that real love is quiet and unassuming...not announced with fanfare or regaled with Blockbuster bells and whistles.

Love is indeed a four letter word...but one that I wish was never censored for the public. I wish we had just left it alone and rocked that word in all of its raw and, yes, (maybe) shocking, purest form (no stars here...)~

L-O-V-E. Uncensored. Let's use it to go shock some people...