Year of Jubilee~

She is a simply complicated girl.

Fearless. Headstrong. Crown full of curls.

Gilded, golden, with violet hues

Timid, Fragile. This Maker’s muse.

Reigning, rule-ridden, o’er this dichotomy:

Soul’s royalty. Mind and Body’s peasantry.

Daily seeking guidance, this princess will be.

Neither black nor white…mais non, elle est gris~

Maintenant, as this little one sees and is seen.

The world wakens to life…thrives with green.

The newness, the wholeness, this birth’s beginning

Ushers forth such seasons of healing.

Woman-child…you are an intricate maze to decipher.

Breathtaking beauty traces your lines and letters.

What words shall you form, among this sea?

This ocean of life, your year of jubilee?

Meet Me In The Morning~

Early morning. I have spent many days like this lately…waking as the world sleeps, fumbling for my coffee cup to go, sleepily slurping my liquid speed, while racing down the dark, deserted road in order to meet my date. I like to get there first…so I can be waiting as he arrives. It is in those quiet moments…the still, silent seconds spent just before I see his face, that are priceless to me. The anticipation never ceases to bring the butterflies to my belly (they are flying high with the expectant joy of spending time with him too it seems).

The awareness that he is coming to meet me, reduces me to that giddy schoolgirl, (you know her)…the one standing on the side of that gymnasium wall at the school dance…giggling uncontrollably and praying under her breath for him to ask her to come 'cut the rug.' *And he does…oh, how he always does *~

We have a standing engagement, he and I. He has never missed, not even once. I, however, (much to my shame) have often (and still do) stand him up. Usually it is because I get lazy and would rather sleep in. Or, other days, I just promise myself I will make it to see him tomorrow, and that this somehow will suffice…that this will be enough for me. Any way you look at it, I am not there because I take him for granted. I forget what he does for me...who he is to me...how he makes everything better without saying a word somehow.

Yet, despite my neglect, he remains patient and forgiving...faithful even. This loyalty, and lack of all bitterness, is probably supported by the fact that he knows without a doubt that if I were to ever abandon our morning trysts, there is a constant stream of women around at any given time that flock to him, admiring his beauty and feeling privileged just to be in his presence. (I believe in some cultures he would even be considered a god of sorts, I tell you!)

Women fall at his feet (men too, even). I have actually even seen one woman saying prayers to him. People stop to take his picture…he always smiles kindly. Any angle is his best side, don’t you know? He shines with divine goodness. The sweetness of his countenance radiates and touches all. Healing to the heart, any would be blessed to spend even a moment with him. I am such a woman... Most Blessed. Every day.

So, yes, this morning, I showed up. I intentioned to do so. I set that d**ned alarm clock (only hit snooze twice!) I dragged myself out of that warm, cozy purple puff of heaven (also known as the “Purple Cloud”) I said a prayer (more for the other people I would pass on the roads BEFORE the caffeine had time to pulse its perky power through my veins).…and I made it just in time.

I watched as he playfully peeked his nose around the corner…granting me with only small glances at first (he always was such a delightful tease). I remained patient….happy just that he was there with me. Hopeful that he would be able to stay for the entire day…just to let me bask in his presence. He came closer…so tall…towered above me and smiled down. That grin…glowed. I lifted my chin, closed my eyes, and willed everything on earth to silence. This morning I am selfish. I will not share. He cradles my upturned face gently. Tenderly kissed like I have never been before, I find myself at peace in his presence.

My sanctuary.

My sun.

Turkish Tarzans~

We woke up late (a luxury we are most definitely NOT allowing ourselves to get used to). Breakfast with our brothers. Add a new guest couple, recently moved in, to the mix…blessings abound. Carbo-loaded, laughter infused, energy boosted and charged with caffeine (Turbo-style Turkish, of course), and we are ready to greet this day.

Our morning swim across the channel has never felt so good. The current was strong, but we were stronger. The ocean’s pull was a welcome resistance, providing a challenge—something to shoot for and overcome…a goal. And, when we finished—fully spent—too tired for troubles—no energy left to waste on worry…we thanked Jah for all the cares castoff—collected now at the bottom of that salty sea—having slicked off our slight shoulders in the somewhere in between~

Morning melted into afternoon. Days here dally about; yet somehow we fill the time. Fellowship, peace, sunshine, and laughter—all merge as we go about our work in a moderate manner. Languid lengths of hours…merging into one 24 segment cycle.

Evening time now. Not yet night, and the morning having made its quiet exit long ago…the slight lull lingering in the space now left. What to do? Are we hungry? Not yet…the bountiful breakfast became brunch (and quite possibly will suffice for dinner as well if the fullness and satiety of our stomachs has its say). In fact, we can imagine its say would go something along the lines of: “lütfen! artık”….(“PLEASE, NO MORE!”) J We realize that we should probably write something today, but here at the hotel our family is such fun, not much penmanship or productivity is projected to occur. To town we go, then…

One dolma down (that’s a Turkish bus…and...after the first, we believe we may only “need” one, as our legs are suddenly not so tired anymore…* funny how claustrophobia, cramped spaces and odiferous aromas of various unidentified genres--and origins--can do that…*)…and we are deposited into the depths of the bustling, big town (try to contain your excitement..I know…it’s alot to take in all at once). From the one grocer, to the two main (and only!) drags, one really must pace themselves to absorb it all J

Okay! Focus, Ponopeople, we are writing tonight! Hmm…surveying the town square (which, we have to admit, is ROCKIN’ tonight!) we see that the town is represented in full force…all twelve of them. Woo-hoo *hands raised, fists pumpin’—fanfare *. Productivity and writing in mind, we skirt around the square’s edge in search of a place to perch our poetic awesomeness. There! Spotted!—a little corner of bench right by the sea…far enough away from the crowd, yet still enough atmosphere around to inspire—we have arrived! We launch into writing mode…Notepad: CHECK! Pen: CHECK! Lucky handmade ring from Ari: CHECK! Water: CHECK (hey, this writing can be tough..one must stay hydrated!) Black and white spotted feline friend avec notebook: What the (C)HECK?.... and enter our new kitty co-pilot. * Fabulous * just wonderful…now, if we could just have you, Miss Kitty, scoot over a * tad * …so we could * maybe * just see one corner of our paper…yes, thank you, that would be SUPER…* sigh*~

After humoring the little furry freeloader (yes, we fed her too….such pushovers), we sent her on her way, and set our focus back to work. Pen poised, we pondered plot, characters, setting, rising action, falling action, and climax... * as in, the head trauma we just underwent as the band of biker boys, avec little sisters in tow..avec SPLAYED SOCCER BALLS…awesome! BUMP THAT—literally (we are assuming they had the same idea…) * sigh *~ As we turn to give them all an EVIL “Hey what the HOO?” glare-with-a-nostril-flare!---our eyes rest upon the cutest, most adorable, infectiously endearing imp that we have ever seen. * Goners *…..we smile despite ourselves—In that instant the throb of our (now dinosaur egged) heads dissipating.

* Sigh…* ...* smile *... *sigh *…..Resigned, we allow ourselves to revel in the rambunctious rowdiness that is now enveloping us. Looking around at this tribe of tiny Turkish Tarzans, we know we are surrounded…we drop the pen, and reach for our camera (our own version of raising the white flag)… and surrender, swept up in the silly sounds and sweetness of youthful bliss….we are being held captive-ated~

Awaken the Senses~

I am what most people would call a "morning person." Love them (Or hate them), "morning people" are generally known for greeting the day with gusto! Hutzpah! Fanfare! Razzamatazz! (And if you are one of these chosen few, and it just so happens to be before noon as you are presently perusing this blog, then please do feel free to insert whatever * dazzling * emotion you are presently rockin' out here___________.)

This morning, however, was different. I woke up feeling...nothing. The eager anticipation of demolishing my "To See" list here in Barcelona, coupled with my darned diligence and frightening efficiency and go get 'em mentality, had seen to it that I had no plan or desired destination for this particular day whatsoever.

I thought to get up...* Meh *... (The day can wait). I thought of taking a shower...* Meh *...(Hygiene is sooo overrated I tell myself). I thought of making breakfast...* Meh * (Pancakes for one? No Thanks). I thought of calling home...*AAAAAND we have motion! * fanfare! *...rolls...slowly...grunts...rolls...thud. Pad, pad, pad...scuffle, scuffle....hum....dials...and, yes...*home*.

Home caught me up with their day(s), and home asked me about mine. Home shared with me, and home received my share in return. Home recognized my loneliness, and home met me in that ache. Home helped me to remember, yet reminded me in whispers sweetly of the blessed now. Yes, home got me out of that bed. And then...home lit a fire under my a** (with love of course). "Do you feel that?" I felt like I was being asked. "No" I replied....still numb. "Well then, FEEL this..." (a small nudge....okay, what then became a firm push, out the door).

The sunlight was blinding....I felt its warmth. Placing one leaden foot before the other, I stumbled towards the sea. I could sense the strain of my leg muscles with each new stride; the contraction of my calves with every step...I felt motion.

On the boardwalk, the waves of bikers blow past me...I feel the wind left by their wake gently rock my frame.

The adoring couple, unapologetic in their open affections...I feel connection.

The raucous children, launched into spastic motion with such eagerness and enthusiasm, trill their tinkling laughter--a holy chorus of angels more heavenly and spiritual than any church choir these ears have ever heard. I feel cleansed.

The nude sunbathers, baring all. I feel the heat of solar energy; its reflection dancing among their flawed, yet beautiful forms.

I feel it all. It is closing in around me...squeezing me until I cannot do anything but focus on each new breath. Pulsating. Throbbing. Bubbling up and spilling over. Unable to be contained within the vacuumed void of numbness, it will not be deterred.

I feel *life.*

I see it being lived.

I hear the beating of my own heart...in response and humbled recognition.

I taste the sweetness of partaking.

I touch upon truth.

~Awakened~

All Clear~

Oh, this morning! Oh, this morning!

I woke up with the sun. "Merry Christmas!" was on my lips and a smile adorned my cheeks. *Cue crashing realization that I, indeed, was scheduled to work today.* --Shoulders Sag--Audible Sigh (okay, maybe it was more like an agonized groan)--Hands on Hip--and yes, there was also one (or two?) stamped feet. Oh, this Morning! Ugh, this morning!

As I scanned the room, what would catch my eye but my Ziploc full o' zazzle! I clutched desperately for the small pouch of glitter (the one that I keep on hand for such times as this....you know, those dire emergencies...) Oh, salvation of sparkle! --Do please redeem my bad attitude from this pit of self pity~ (And it did!) I decided to take it one step further and go all out (none of you should be surprised by this one bit), as I rocked the festive green and gold glitter tagteam today....so I pretty much (if we are using our imaginations--having the red hair, coupled with the green and gold glow--was my own friggin' Christmas ornament!) Oh, this morning! Glow, this morning!

At work the patrons were in full holiday spirit. The families file through the gallery...fathers holding their children's hands, babies clutching their mothers and napping in their strollers. All are jolly and bright, out and about after a sweet time of togetherness unwrapping gifts, reading the Christmas story and discovering who Santa deemed "good" this year. The gush of good spirits is overwhelming, rushing over me like a tidal wave. It is beautiful to see. It is painful to feel. Oh, this Morning. Alone, This morning.

I could sense tiny tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. I quickly reached up to paw away the proof of my self-indulgent "sorrow." As I looked down at my hands again, I see I have smudged my glitter....I was covered in resplendent sparkles, but all I could see was green. Oh, this Morning. Low, this morning.

I asked myself if I was indeed, my own little version of the "green eyed monster"...was it jealousy that was presently creeping its way in and blackening my heart? Not exactly....but I wanted to place what was bothering me. I was not begrudging of the people their time shared in rest and vacation with their families and loved ones, nor was I angered by the fact that I was having to work on Christmas day. No, I realized that what I was envious of, was that all of those people coming through those doors, once they bought their pastries and drinks, would make their way home together. For the first time this day I realized that the sights and sounds that were assaulting my eyes were not the people themselves, but rather what they symbolized to my heart....*home.* I looked around at the girls I work with--the fatigue that furrowed each brow--the frustration of finding themselves taken away from loved ones in order to serve strangers--yet, simultaneously, upon closer examination, I also witnessed the team effort and human spirit that rallied as each sought to stave off the spirit of negativity in order to bless and love all who entered in to their small sphere of influence. I saw in this moment, that we were all in this together...and that joy and peace was *and had to be* within each of us. Oh, this morning. Home, this morning.

I left work and got to my apartment. It had been a long day...yet a good one. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. I bent my face towards the water and felt its cool, cleansing kiss upon my cheeks. As it washed over me, I opened my eyes to watch as the swirling green remnants disappeared. I willed myself to continue my gaze until the all the green was gone...

The Beatles were onto something...

In follow up to the most recent blog thought (the quote about what love truly is and looks like in real, everyday life,) I wanted to post a few things on my mind from my interactions of the recent days:

This morning I was reading some Anais Nin, whom I must admit I really admire, even though we see very differently on many subjects. Nin spoke her mind, and was not afraid of voicing (at least what she saw) as truth. I value and respect that in her, and any human for that matter. I came across this quote in my reading today, and it has awakened an inquiry into many things in my heart. She stated that:

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."

This quote is chock full of so many things we could talk about and voice. I read this and am both saddened and, yet, given hope simultaneously. Let me explain. I am saddened because I see love dying all around us. I witness marriages failing, friendships being severed, families being torn apart, and children who are abandoned and scarred. It seems that everywhere one turns, there is a casualty of "dead love" in our midst~

A man came into the coffee shop just last night....it was a mere ten minutes until closing time, and it had been a long day. I was ready to go home, yet the look on his face as he checked the clock and growled at me: "I still have a good ten minutes until I have to be out of your hair, young lady!!!" pierced my heart. This man was bitter and hardened towards life. He knew it....and you better bet everyone around him knew it as well. I uttered a small and exasperated prayer under my breath for patience and fortitude...and a speedy exit....God, as He often does, seemed to have a different plan. (gee thanks, JC)~ *sigh*

Long story short, the man proceeded to growl and gripe his way through a lengthy (oh how it was LENGTHY!) diatribe of negative comments about the coffee, the weather, the ungodly hour that the shop closed *gasp* (I do believe he felt inconvenienced!), life in general, and basically anything he laid his eyes on. The Beatles song "All You Need is Love" piped in the background... (The irony was not wasted on me)~

I asked the crotchety old man if he liked this song. Actually, my exact words I recall being completely over the top (in hopes to diffuse his rancor): "Oooh-wee! This song makes me wanna smile, and dance! You are a closet dancing man, aren't you, my friend?" The man eyed me in silence (my guess is he was wondering what I had been smoking on my break,) then let out a long sigh. His heavy shoulders slumped, and he simply said: "Sometimes love isn't enough."

My boss came to usher him out and shut the doors, it was closing time. As I watched him shuffle away, I kept waiting for him to turn around one last time...he never did. I hoped the man would come again. I wondered about the "love" that this man had experienced in his lifetime. How had humanity been blind to his need(s)? What betrayal had stolen the sweetness from his palate, leaving only a taste, bitter as gall? What countless errors had been committed, when such a man only had one more chance left within him to give, his heart having been wounded so many times before? What shallow, anorexic "love" had caused this man's spirit to go without, leaving him starving for affection and sustenance of any kind?

And what separates any of us from becoming this man?

I wonder all of these things as I sit here on my computer recalling the day. And YET, YET!!! (I love that word YET!)....here is where the hope of that quote resonates in my soul: Nin says that Love dies only when there is ignorance and inaction. Which means to me, that, in finding HOW to replenish the source, there is hope that Love will LIVE!

But, here is where the "Pono" comes into the picture: I would pray that we would not only settle for Love to survive, but that we would seek and desire to take it a step further, and have love THRIVE. It is possible....and I also know it begins with each of us~

Love: Pono Style~

Aloha all,

Was sent this amazing quote by a fellow sojourner of ours today who thought that it embodied the true Pono style spirit (and I quite agree!) Keep those thoughts, comments and YOUR additions coming, Ponopeople! It is the reason this blog was started in the first place, to empower, encourage and edify one another along this journey we call life. I look forward to walking with you every step of the way! (Feel free to follow up this posting with any of your quotes, etc that you feel also captures the pono philosophy....what a great way to bless others who visit this blog today....and the writer just so happens to like being blessed too, so keep 'em coming!)

"heard this definition of love today: doing all you can to help another reach his or her fullest potential"~

Sounds like a challenge~ Sounds good~

All That Glitters~

I've often asked myself where is it that we (people in general) lose that child-like joy we grew up with? I think you all know what I am talking about. Go to any public park, or spend five minutes with a small child and you will see the wonder and amazement, and yes, sheer exuberance with which they live life. Where, I ask, do we as adults lose that joy and vibrancy? Many of you already know my swinging story (oh, yeah....) but that is just one of many instances when I have felt almost tangibly an ache or grieving moment for the loss of naivete and the lightness of being that seems to inherently come to children.

All of that to say, today I was reminded afresh that I am not the only one who yearns and desires a return (in any way possible, and even in small doses) of that childlike joy. Allow me to explain. I work at a coffeeshop six days a week, for minimum wage...I am a baker and barista and friendly caffeine dealer workin' the 'hood....and I love it....absolutely, positively love it. I am able to, with every person that comes through and pays for their daily cup o' joe, to have a small window of opportunity to just love on them, and smile at them, and make them laugh--something good--anything good I hope to brighten their day.

Lately I have taken to spicing it up a bit and getting a little more whimsical with my eye makeup...I live in Hawaii, so mostly I never wear any makeup...but I thought this morning I would just do it...and mix it up and have some fun with some glitter makeup that my friend from LA who is a makeup artist sent me. The note with the bottle said "Apply Sparingly Around Eyes and Cheeks"....well, two things were amiss with these instructions from the get-go...First (these manufacturers obviously do not know me...moderation? me?) Secondly, (any one of you who knows me also knows that sparingly covering the circumference of my Irish lass cheeks is a misnomer....sparingly? come on, guys!)

So...true to form, I completely disregard the instructions and just have at it. In a moment of sheer impulse I tossed a handful of the stuff in the air above my head and lifted my face into it as it rained down on me. It was fabulous! I felt insane....wild even....as I channeled Tink in Peter Pan, I checked myself in the mirror. WOWZERS was I glowing and glittering and shimmering aplenty! I checked the clock in a panic...oh well, got to get to work, Andy's going to have to rock it out and own this glitter!!! I always say: "All you gotta do to pull it off is to put it on!" (And man had I put it on!)

What amazed me about as the day went on, was how so many people who came through the line for coffee reacted to something as silly and simple as over-exuberantly applied glitter. Some stopped and smiled. Some complimented me on my "Huzzah and Gumption"....many confessed that they wished they had the guts to rock some glitter. One woman shared that she was "too old" for such fun makeup. The men, young and old, seemed to find it fascinating and whimsical...and yes, I even received a hi-five (up top!) from a 60 year old woman who said the glitter just "made her day." But one common thread was repeated: a loop of comments simply saying how "fun" and "whimsical" and "free" my makeup looked.

I was certainly glad it was a hit, but more than that, I began to wonder and think.....and realize just how much we as humans long for joy, even in the little things. How we thirst for freedom to be whimsical and light. To breathe and allow ourselves the space to be silly and overly exuberant and unrestrained. To let go and be light.

Yes, I did just write an entire blog post centered around the excessive use of glitter. My use of glitter. It was ridiculous, it was over the top, it was silly, it was JOYFULLY applied...and it was good.