Volcano Visit

Big Island Of Hawaii's Puna District near the volcano

"All great truths begin as blasphemy." - George Bernard Shaw

"In a time of universal deceit, truth telling becomes a revolutionary act.

- George Orwell

"AAAAAAAIIIEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" - George of the Jungle

A while back, we made a pilgrimage to the Big Island of Hawaii to witness the living lava as it flows from the volcano, cutting across the Puna district and into the sea. Though it is somewhat dangerous and reasonably prohibited, local people soon find their way to new outbreaks by foot over the warm fields of pahoehoe lava and are soon followed by visitors. Not that the volcano operates in secret! From miles away, red light in the sky testifies to activities that are re-shaping the earth by pouring new land. Somewhere offshore another Hawaiian island, 'Loihi' rises to meet the oceans surface; but that will happen thousands of years from now. Video cannot show the actual appearance of the red orange lava as it flows. Nor can it convey the smell of sulfur, like a pinch in the nose, as you set off over new landscape to lay the first human footprint. Lava is first cousin to glass - so you really don't want to fall down out here. Once solidified, the fresh rock radiates deep earth heat for weeks.

Here and there the ground reflects like mirror glass. Our steps crunch or ring a bit as flashlights (torches) snap on and an impromptu tribe heads out towards the glow. No surface is level on the lava field, so walking quickly becomes more absorbing with each deliberate step. Taking the time to look out for collapsed lava tubes or other pukas ('holes,' we use it to mean 'zero' too!) makes progress even more precarious. Well it shouldn't be too easy to approach the homes of the gods! For Pele created these islands unto herself, and is the grandmother, Tutu, of Big Island Hawaiians to this day. She remains closer than myth on this island, close in legends and family stories, and in these very mountains and lands (still smoking!) that we live on. But especially she lives out here where she performs her continuing Hula of destruction and creation. There is now only one inhabited house left in Royal Gardens subdivision. But how can we begrudge her a road, or a house lying in her royal path, when everything here is of her will and bounty? Right now she's in titanic battle with the gods of the waters. . . Finally our small hushed group of humans draws close to the glowing pillar of smoke.

"Look! My sneakers are melting!"

Mine are smoking a bit also, I notice. My feet are really hot. Heat like the mother of ovens goes to work on our suddenly orange faces. It is difficult to look, or to breath. But it is harder to look away. The moving lava pours out like radioactive cake batter. She takes her time - this construction will last millennia, and only those of us who actually witness the movement, the glow, the smell and the heat of Earth creation can know what this miracle is really like - O, Our Mother of Special Effects! Pouring liquid rock, 2,000 degrees hot, falls among the waves, which themselves are never still. Elemental determinations collide. What would you expect? Hissing, threats, advances, retreats fascinate us. No one out here is mentally reciting a shopping list or looking at their watch. I notice a glowing boulder riding along the molten river, as it drops sizzling onto wet sand and is covered over by an avenging wave: Indignant sounds rise up! Hiss! Smoke! Smell! The pohaku (rock/stone) continues to glow, actual fire beneath the sea (!) as I watch it recede eerily into the chilly depths; A lantern for Poseidon. I know I have seen something great!

A L O H A! *cloudia*

Walking in Waikiki

"The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness."

-Motto of Hawaii

Walking in Waikiki
With Cloudia

I have always been enchanted by the romance of Waikiki. And while I envy kama`aina like Mr. Apaka and Mr. Brower who had the good sense to grow up here, they will never know the magic of imagination as it paints a pastel Summer Waikiki sunset over the pewter and gray of an East Coast Philadelphia, USA Winter sky. Talk about imagination! Arthur Godfrey filled my “small kid times” with real Hawaiian music that wafted over the radio waves while I memorized all of the Hawaiian words that National Geographic Magazine saw fit to print during the first thrill of Hawaii Statehood.
Ah, Waikiki – you are my home at last! I’ve been here long enough to miss the Kuhio Theatre, old Hula’s Bar & Lei Stand with it’s magnificent Banyan tree, Cillies, Lollipop Lounge, and yes, even the late lamented “The Wave” nightclub “on the edge of Waikiki.” So many rowdy, youthful indiscretions! I miss them too, sometimes. I think that a place truly becomes “home” when your memories are all tied up with that place, as mine have become with this place. So this must be the place, right?
But our first date didn’t go so well, me and Waikiki. Fresh off the jet at midnight, we told our taxi driver to take us to the “Outrigger.” Little did we know then that there are 627 Kelly family Outrigger hotel properties in Waikiki! Our reservation was at the old “Outrigger East” on Kuhio, right in the middle of a cement strip of bars and attractions that had attracted a crowd more like that on a New Jersey boardwalk, or Mardi Gras New Orleans than idyllic, tropical, legendary Waikiki! Things have improved considerably since the mid-eighties, but Kuhio Avenue in the wee hours remains, um, “lively.”
I was glad, back then, to move on to our first Hawaii home on the Big Island’s Kona coast. Only later did I become acquainted with ole Waikiki on sunnier terms. Today I’m happy to live with my husband, our cat, and all my memories and demons, on board our 55 year old, locally built, cutter-rigged pinky-stern line island trader. She’s steel, like a solid old car (or a dumpster!). This is not the boat that comes to mind when you hear the word “yacht” but it’s functional, funky, and “home.” Actually, it’s the boat a child draws: mast, Popeye wheelhouse, high bowsprit, and three round portholes on both sides, port and starboard.
So now my neighbors are reef fish like Moorish Idols, Trigger Fish, and the occasional sea turtle, like neighborhood favorite “Patty” with her missing fore flipper. Oh! And Boxy, my pet box fish. He looks eerily like a big, soulful human face, with brown expressive eyes grafted onto the front of a square fish body like a psychedelic nightmare, Yellow Submarine-stylee! If he weren’t so sweet natured he’d probably really creep me out, you know?
My human neighbors are a special breed, too: boat people. Folks with nice boats who come down for recreation on the weekend; there are also those of us persistent and patient enough to finally hold coveted “live aboard” slips. And always there are cruisers: folks in serious boats who stop here while circumnavigating the globe via the poles, like the big, steel Russian (the boat AND the captain) that was here a while ago, or retired couples from New Zealand on their way to San Francisco (or vice versa). We also see seasonal cruisers; folks who call no dock their home, just their trusty boats, along with their extended networks of connections in little coves and indigenous villages around a world that tourists never get to see.
Boats that I have known, or just marveled at, are just now cruising up the Thames, through the San Juan Islands, Central America, or the smaller islands of Samoa. The bulk of humanity does NOT live afloat, so most of us who do have an interesting story about what lured (or chased!) us off of dry land and the steady life. It’s a bit like motorcyclists, or hot air balloonists: “How did you get into this?” Yes, the sea has always been a safety net, safety valve, or alternative, to societies structures and life’s responsibilities ashore.
The always immediate and changing eternal sea makes light of today’s “important” concerns. Things always look different out here on the water, off shore, un-tied. Even boats that rarely leave the confines of the harbor remain attached to solid land only by a slender line of rope, a rope that may be thrown at any time. Floating out here at the edge we have furled sails, the sleeping engine, full water tanks, even boxes of canned beans. We are ever ready to slip away on the tide that always seems to be flowing somewhere. else. Yet…yet we stay in Waikiki…
Yes, our home is constantly moving, bobbing, swaying, heeling with the wind. Such a home nurtures different certainties about home and foundations. Our main attachments are to nature, and to each other: other boat people. We have learned that boat people will always catch your thrown rope and make it fast. They expect that you will do the same for them, that’s just the way of the waves. One day, the neighbor in the next slip will be gone, leaving only an empty space of water. Then a new neighbor in a new house will arrive to share our narrow dock to solid land. Boat people know that nothing is forever, except maintenance. Shipmates will sail on different tides at last, and nothing really lasts except the dear harbor itself, the frigate birds, sailing clouds, monthly jellyfish, and the sea itself, all constantly morphing, eternal with it’s ever changing light, spinning seasons, and our passing wakes stretching out behind us. Nothing else remains- except Diamond Head (that sphinx!), and the way we choose to feel about it all. . . Here at the edge of Waikiki. . . Till later, Malama Pono (do the right thing) I’ll be right here. . . walking in Waikiki. ALOHA!

My little Hawaii/Taxi Driving/self help novel: “Aloha Where You Like Go” is available at amazon.com Mahalo!

Obama Hawaii Guy

Myrtle K. Hilo

"In 1959 my protestant family moved next door to a catholic family. They had a daughter my age. In 19 years, we spoke to each other perhaps seven times. If you didn't live then, you don't know how segregated our country was when the 'greatest generation' was running things. My parents' generation wouldn't have sent Barack Obama to the Senate. They wouldn't have permitted a gay pride parade. They sent the physically and mentally challenged to institutions, to grow up strangers to their families and dependents of the state. My generation was the first one to say that America belongs to all Americans. I'd call that quite an accomplishment, wouldn't you?" - Jean Martin, Pittsburgh

"Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows slavishly the new[ones]." - Thoreau, Walden, Mass.

"The man who sticks to his plan will become what he used to want to be."

- James Richardson

Barack Obama grew up and went to school about two miles from my home. His mom was a University of Hawaii/Manoa alumna like me. If you are not from here, if you have not lived for years in this unique culture, then you don't really comprehend how very much it means to us to be "local."

It means growing up in a place with no racial majority. Your friends, neighbors and schoolmates (and often, family) are of many cultures, backgrounds, and colors - but they are just that: your neighbors, best friends, and schoolmates. You grow up accustomed to seeing many different models of how life can be lived, and seeing many different kinds of role models. But we all share something special: we are Hawaii people with all that it means. We came here, or our fore-bearers came here from somewhere else; and this includes the first voyaging Hawaiians. Hard work, cultural dislocation, finding ourselves in a new environment, and learning the humanity of those very different from ourselves, are the bedrock of our identity. We live amidst great beauty, but with limited space in which to "get away from each other." On an island you have to learn to share and get along. Just look at our food: it's of many roots and flavors - just like us.

It is in this "chop suey bowl" that Barack, or "Barry" as his friends called him, grew up with a smart, determined mid-west grandma and a large, outgoing WWII veteran grandpa. Oh yes, and they were white people. Barack has written two books about his life, and has lots of friends in Honolulu who kept in touch all these years. He has vacationed here, walking unmolested in Waikiki, every Summer for years. We feel enormous pride that 'one of us' is inspiring the whole nation and world. We recognize the values he embodies and speaks of. They are not rhetoric. We recognize the familiar values that we (mostly) live by in him. It puzzles us and pains us to hear newcomers to the national dialogue (or even old hands who should know better, republican Gov. Lingle!) ask: "Who is this guy? Where did he come from?" He came from us and we are faces of America too. He calls his grandma "Toot." Any local person recognizes (and uses) the Hawaiian word: "TuTu = grandmother." When he leans over and kisses a woman on the cheek, we don't see politics, we see the way we behave every day!

We are so proud when someone from our little, isolated island home brings something world-class to a larger stage. So don't wonder why Barack looks "different." Instead, recognize your own family saga. Come visit us and get to know our unique flavor of America. Your life will be richer. Spread the ALOHA! GO MAUI BOY SHANE VICTORINO & the PHILLIES!!

Cloudia

Emotion Commotion

"Only through emotions can you encounter the force field of your soul."

- Gary Zukav

"In hiding our vulnerability and woundedness by fostering a relationship of dominance, we prevent healing, our own healing and the healing of others. In fact, relationships of dominance not only do not lead to healing, they often lead to destruction, the destruction of others and our own destruction. I discovered this fact while being a minister. . . "

- Douglas C. Smith

"By means of all created things, without exception, the divine assails us, penetrates us, and molds us. We imagined it as distant and inaccessible, whereas in fact we live steeped in its burning layers."

- Teilhard de Chardin

Many of us believe that 'doing the right thing' is about knowing and obeying 'the rules' so that God, or the Bogey-man, can't play 'gotcha' with us - even if we transgress a rule in good faith, ignorance, or compassion.

Others consider 'intention' to be the golden rule - though deluded people always arrange to believe that they have only the best intentions (for they know best).

What I know is this: If you do good to yourself and others in gentleness, you will end up a very different person than one who followed every rule perfectly, yet reduced compassion to a slogan.

The Secret

Positive thinkers, prosperity types, fans of "the secret" all tell you clearly what to do: "Feel & Think Positively & Prosperously" but they don't tell you how to do that. Often we end up feeling worse than before when we feel like impostors trying to brainwash ourselves.


Our thoughts definitely shape and color our experience, which is our reality. It is difficult to feel prosperous as you struggle to meet obligations. So what's the "answer?"


I suggest that you focus on finding areas in your life where you can notice your prosperity, where you feel and be prosperous in ways that are detached from $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ .


In our culture we equate abundance with finances - even though studies show that, above a certain basic level, more money does not equal more life satisfaction or happiness. So what does?


As we open up to a broader understanding of abundance, life satisfaction & joy, we begin to really notice our life instead of just sleep-walking through it. We inevitably begin to live and to savor the real treasures already in our lives. Mental and spiritual attitudes begin to shift. You will experience your unappreciated abundance first. Once you value, celebrate and enjoy what you have with real gratitude (not a mental strategy that you "try to put feeling behind") MORE will be added to you: pressed down and overflowing. For real!

A L O H A ! Cloudia

Leaders

Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it. - Ellen Goodman

If you would convince a man that he does wrong, do right. Men will believe what they see.
Henry David Thoreau

The secret of leadership is simple: Do what you believe in. Paint a picture of the future. Go there. People will follow. -Seth Godin

We're all burned out on self-promoters, power-trippers, spokesmen, experts, motivational nazis, and salesmen. The best sort of folks are turned-off by the present circumstances. . . just look at how well everything going for the average person! No wonder lots of the best and most sensitive types remain on the sidelines watching the farce with a weird mixture of aggrieved common sense, public spirited disgust, righteous anger, a humorous long-view, and a profound sadness that permeates society like a bad smell. But the Kupuna (Hawaiian: "Elders/Seniors/Parents/Ancestors") showed the way. They knew that there was amazing influence in authentic living and in authentic people. Those who are always, subtly, reaching out respectfully, with inclusive Aloha in the moment. . . moment to moment. Such people are helping all who feel their emanation to respond, to reconnect with the power of their OWN true integrity. This wave ultimately loosens the power of dogma, checklists, and insincere manipulation. . . Lets stop being a culture of the "eye roll," and let it begin with me. . .

Animal Hula

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
Agatha Christie

Every time we remember to say "thank you," we experience nothing less than heaven on earth.
Sarah Ban Breathnach

Walking in Waikiki
With Cloudia:
Animal Hula

Schools of small fry continue to animate the harbor. Swarms of tiny arrows – bigger everyday – are still learning the stately hula of adult fish. Watching them play & learn, the mind asks: “What breed are those?” The imagination murmurs that it doesn’t really matter as attention shifts, now enraptured by the golden points of sparkle swaying scattered across the unified field of the ocean’s surface. . . I attended the Kava Festival and limited my consumption to one muddy cup of the Polynesian elixir. Still, I forgot to take any pictures, and felt ultra-relaxed for two days! Ahhh. . . Few people walking along the beach path behind the military’s Hale Koa (“Warrior House”) Hotel realize what history lies just below their feet. The cement walkway used to lie below the surface of the beach behind a retaining wall that you can still see and walk on as part of today’s sidewalk. Sentries could use the defensive position in case of attack from the sea. Much of Waikiki Beach, in fact, was barb-wired and ‘off limits’ for much of WWII. The navy requisitioned the Royal Hawaiian and we now know that Japanese submarines often came as close to the beach as possible in order to enjoy the big band music that the sailors danced to. That grass covered “hill” behind the beach is actually Battery Randolph, a defensive gun position so massive that efforts to level it were abandoned. Now it houses the army museum. A Sherman tank, and a few of its comrades from both sides, are parked irresistibly in front where kids can break the rules and climb on them. I enjoy the visual dialogue between the WWII howitzer and the monarchy-era cannon. Both seem hopelessly antiquated as new fighter planes roar overhead. This part of Waikiki beach always hosts lots of warriors; those leaving/returning from active duty as well as veterans revisiting their youth. Fresh tattoos on muscled biceps, blurred old Sailor Jerry ‘hula girl’ tattoos, and the young, tanned, un-inked skin of military dependants, all tell their stories in the sun. Memories and dreams mingle underneath the palms with the smell of barbeque, just like Valhalla. In front of the Army Museum, a circle of sentinel tikis, carved by Hawaiian-blooded artist Rocky Jensen, honors the warriors, Na Koa, of ‘pre-contact’ Hawaii. . . Continuing along Kalia Road we come to the refreshed Outrigger Reef Hotel with its new Polynesian canoe hale overhang and museum-quality artifacts throughout the lobby. Sometimes I like to pause right in front where Don Ho and Sam Kapu strummed ukulele and sang for Bobby & Cindy Brady in that episode when the Brady Bunch Went Hawaiian. Then I look at the Roy’s restaurant where the fast food place used to be and I realize that Waikiki is always fresh, always renewing (like the surf, like the seasons) even if she is always wrapped in precious and beautiful memories of a storied past. Just then a fragrant bride and groom (Covered in lei) exit a white limo onto the sidewalk beside me. Lots of “Congratulations!” from complete strangers fall like rice as I trail along in their wake as they float down the sidewalk. We’re just the blurry faces in the background of their special memories, passers-by they don’t notice in their bliss, but their joy rubs off on everyone. Everyday our streets are full of such sights & joys. Memories are being created all around me as I stroll through my own daily errands and musings. Lucky I live Hawaii. . . Have you been very, very good? Then treat yourself to an early dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steak House at Beachwalk. The happy buzz of our ‘Paris in Flip Flops’ is hushed as you enter the pristine room and peruse the five o’clock early menu. Pleasantly tired feelings sing harmony with the rising anticipation of another tropical night’s music & moonlight as you sip a cool drink. No TV, no newspaper, no distractions. None needed. Soon the hottest plate you’ve never touched is placed before you, and for a short while no president or corporate mogul is eating better than you are – and you certainly deserve it. . . Rejoining the throng outside, I’m struck once again by the beautifully relaxed faces around me. A beloved Hawaiian song comes to mind: “Kaulana Na Pua” (Famous are the Flowers of Hawaii). The flowers of the title are really a poetic allusion to the people of Hawaii, the true blooms of these islands. Why don’t YOU come wave in our breezes for a while? . . Humpback whales have been spotted in the vicinity of Maui and the Big Island. It’s just a matter of time before we’ll see their spouts off of Waikiki. Trade-wind winter is coming and before we know it, Santa will be arriving in his outrigger canoe! Sometimes the tall hotels and happy sidewalks cause us to forget that our town is just a small human place in the middle of vast oceanic nature. Sea turtles feed in the Waikiki dusk right beside wading visitors who can’t believe their eyes. A sacred and rare Pueo (Hawaiian short-eared owl) has lately been spotted on the grounds of historic Iolani Palace in the heart of downtown Honolulu, and the endangered Puaiohi bird is staging a comeback in the forests of Kaua`i. Local resident Jim Snyder has even found a new resident! Zizina otis, the lesser grass blue butterfly, is now happily established in parks and vacant lots right here in Waikiki. These frail natives of Asia and Africa have never been seen here before. “I’ve trained my eyes to be so observant that I see things others don’t see – you see amazing things out there,” Mr. Snyder told a local reporter. Yes indeed, especially here in the sandy, fragrant streets of Waikiki! Actually, I made a great ‘find’ myself, just minding my business downtown on King Street: Elvis and a female companion were enjoying their day, riding in the back of a pickup truck. I would have kept this to myself. . . Except THIS time I remembered to snap a picture. . . So come join us at Da Beach. You never know what you’re going to see next. . . When you’re Walking in Waikiki. . . ALOHA!

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Want to enjoy more Waikiki “street” life with Cloudia? Check out her Hawaii “Taxi Cab” Novel: “Aloha Where You Like Go?” at Amazon.com, local bookstores, or the Hawaii State Library branch near you!