"Didn't you get 'island fever'?"
I am constantly asked.
"I've heard the locals are really territorial."
I am constantly told.
You see, I lived on O'ahu for many years after graduating with my undergraduate degree.
I moved there not for a job or any known certainties,
but rather because my heart told me to.
Seriously.
I'm not talkin' crystals and magic dragons here.
It's like when Claire Danes tells Dermot Mulroney about
"that thing you have to see in order to be whole"
in The Family Stone.
*This could become a very long tangent, so I'm getting back on-track now...if you haven't seen The Family Stone, don't stop...don't pass go...don't collect $100...go watch that movie.*
Hawai'i became my home very quickly during a time when the physicality of home was uprooted and thrown in different directions.
The pace of life suited my internal search.
The intense spirituality of the land guided the answer to my burning question: "Why do I believe what I believe?"
The beauty of the land rooted my feet to the earth and enrolled me in What Matters 101.
I learned to live with less...only what was necessary.
I learned the importance of making a living
(and how hard it can be to strike a balance between the wants and the needs).
I learned that "home" and "family" are fluid, not concrete.
I am forever grateful for the islands of Hawai'i,
and so I continually return "home."
So no, I didn't get island fever.
I wasn't there for a shopping mall or material needs.
I was there to shed that weight.
And yes, the local people are territorial...
as we all should be in sacred places.
I was territorial, too, right alongside of them.
*My next post will further this thought*
aloha.
forever.
