I write to you my last morning in Hawaii. Tonight, I fly back to Toronto to reintegrate into “regular” living. I’ll miss the easy pace here but most of all, I will miss my rituals.
Every day I wake at 6 to chirping birds, announcing the coming sunrise. Mornings are never a struggle here, waking naturally as my body synchronizes to the rising and setting of the sun. I greet the day by collecting fallen blooms of plumeria. Their fresh scent fills the air, heady sweetness with a hint of grassy dew. They never smell the same later on in the day. I toss a bloom into crashing waves to honour the ocean. How does she feel today? Stormy and wild? Calm and welcoming? Is it a day for me to enter her waters?
Next, a mug of Kona coffee, half a papaya and a handful of macadamia nuts on the lanai. I place my crystals in the sun to soak up Island mana. Often I journal, or seek insight from a tarot card. What will I meditate upon today? What adventure will I go on this afternoon?
But first a swim in the oceanside pool. I feel weightless, limitless, at ease. I float face up, kissing the sun.
I am filled with gratitude. This trip I have learned that I am whole and I can stand in my own gentle power. I came searching for answers from the Island and now know the answers were never with the dolphins or whales, but inside me. What I always find here is the space and time to listen, living on Aloha time.
When I’m back in Toronto, can we create our own ritual? The pace of life may speed up and there will be the usual responsibilities, but let’s commit to making some space for each other to connect in this way. We owe it to our souls.
Love from the Island and I’ll see you so soon,