Give all that you are.

Here, in this place, on this island, you can give all that you are.

Give every particle of doubt, self-hate, depression, sorrow, fear, or resentment to this island. Shed every poison, tragedy, mishap, every horror to this earth.

Because this island, this earth, this molten lava, this rock, this vast pacific ocean, this changing weather,  this stellar sunshine, will take it.

This whole, entire world will take it.

And this world will transform it.

And this world will bloom. This world will laugh and shine in flowers, with exotic plants, with unimaginable color, with wonderful people.

Take note. And you too, give this world every quark, every proton, every neutron, every atom, every molecule of what you know is calm, happiness, peace, smiling, laughter, shining, of love.

Do it now. Because no matter what it is, it is what you have to give.

Give ALL that you are.

swallowed by the sea

I had never swam more than 30 feet in the ocean before. Apart from a few sloppily successful attempts at surfing, snorkeling and paddle boarding, my ocean experience was kept at a very respectful minimum. Stories of people swimming across the Atlantic or in some major river, were commendable, but very out of the question even on my long, long list of things I would love to enjoy.

But I am here, and I am in a place where a lot of fascinating experiences that were “could nots” turn into “how could” and then “why nots?”  And for the most part, that’s how I ended up swimming 1.3 miles in the open ocean with no support, but more importantly how I learned valuable lessons about letting go into trust and respect for how awesome the beautiful ocean of life can be.

It began with some urging by my active friends to join the aptly named Aqua Boot Camp semi-club here at Kalani. Boot camp occurs at 4:38 on Wednesdays, but pretty much occupies participants’ minds the whole day with anticipation and a degree of healthy anxiety. After getting past the excuses of not going, the daring few show up for an orchestra of swim conducted by a former Canadian water polo player and synchronized swimmer.  The hour is chock full of circuits of all different swimming styles, long lasting minutes of polo ball play with legs maxing out and of course,  the surprised bystander’s favorite, under water lava rock running. No better way to get more comfortable with not drowning.

After a few weeks of exhausting water work outs, I was ready to swim in the sea. I had heard about Richard, the wonderful founder of Kalani and all around badass, swims a “triangle”  of about a mile at Kahena beach nearly everyday for over 30 years. Since I share an office during my IT duties with Richard, the natural question came up to join him during his 11am jaunts to the black sand beach just down the road from our little paradise at Kalani.  A simple “yes, we go tomorrow” was all I needed to get me out to the beach. And some very calm ocean days helped too.

The “triangle” swim opened my body to what is really possible. With just being in reasonable healthy shape, one can swim in the ocean with ease, as long as you enjoy it. When you enjoy the water, the breathe becomes slower, natural and more full. When you enjoy the sight of water deeper than you have ever even SCUBA dived, your anxiety of you making it anywhere fades into fascination of where you are. Thoughts of your self only being a tiny spec in the ocean aren’t intimidating – they are calming, the kind of calm that you feel when you release your muscles into a loved one’s hug. You let yourself get swallowed by the sea, and the sea takes such good care of you.

The calmness of the waves of early February and the newfound calmness of my whole experience in the open sea compelled me to take the very releasing adventure of swimming from “the point”, an incredible grove covered lava rock cliff face directly in front of Kalani’s oceanfront property all the way to kahena beach, a distance of 1.3 miles. With calculated steps and due confidence, Alicia, a fellow swimmer took our risk of jumping into the ocean and starting our fantastic swim to Kahena. Although we had cast ourselves into the whim of the ocean, our trust was solidified when an enormous sea turtle caught our eye upon entry into the water. Delightful strokes of grace and power propelled our bodies past the cliffs, rocks and completely inaccessible coastline to our right, and the open ocean expanding to infinity on our left.

Yet halfway through are journey, large swells began to form and slow our progress. The waves began to grow, and with them a since of doubt in my mind. I looked up into the beautiful day, with the loving deep blue ocean, but started to only see a creeping darkness of the lava cliffs. The doubt started to grow, because I fed it my power. My arms started to not send me through the water as fast, and my nursing of my doubt started to pop the idea that there was a chance that I wouldn’t make it in my head. Like a slight poison starting to cloud my arteries and veins, my arms and legs started to feel fatigue and really felt heavy. I then knew how people don’t make it in challenging situations – they listen to the story that is being made up in the head, instead of looking around and experiencing what the world is telling them to do. I shifted my power of doubt by physically stopping my swim in the sea. I looked up and saw Alicia, who asked if I was OK, and I deep down inside knew I was, but gave her a silent nod, as if I wasn’t sure. She said, “Oh this is so, so beautiful, look around Taylor. I know two currents are holding us here right now, but let yourself get wrapped in the cradle of the ocean, and we will be swimming again to Kahena.

With a self imposed dunk in the water, I remembered what I knew all along. Just as doubt can get you into fear, it can get you out. I flashed a smile to the ocean floor and just took in air to my lungs and waited for the ocean to show me where to go. My arms and legs started to move again, instantly feeling less fatigued than just a moment ago. Like a locomotive starting from a dead stop, I started to  gain momentum from every movement. Although the start was hard, I began to see ease as I gained pace. I was once again moving with the ocean, and the smile on my face was clearly visible by the creatures milling about 200 feet below.

Walking up on the black sand shore was invigorating, but I felt I was walking out of a comfort zone into something else. In just 50 or so minutes, I had gone through a whole learning experience, something more intriguing than covering a feat of distance in open ocean I had never even thought of doing just a week or so earlier. My comfort returned when I sat on the driftwood log and looked out to the endless horizon of the Pacific. Nothing had been conquered, nothing had been proven. My respect for the ocean had turned from fear to collaboration. I couldn’t have done it without it, only with it. 

forgiveness...

If you have ever been to a retreat center, you will observe that the intention in most peoples’ experience is change. They come to change something in their life. It may be that they come to change their whole way of being into a more authentic self – as I witnessed with many women and a few men with a yoga teacher training just last week. It may be to fully immerse yourself in this lifestyle by running from something and living here off the land as many locals do.  It may be to serve as the volunteers, staff, sabbatical and tradespeople do here – in a whole new way, in a very special place. It may be just to change their scenery – to open up their world to the beautiful jungle of life here and to press their face into the ocean as it breaks against this black lava cliff shore.

Whatever the reason, this is what people do here. The constant is change. It is flux. It is the way of the world. And it is so amazing to be an observer, here, to see this change. I see people stand in lines when they get here, finger poking away at their iPhones, cursing their magical device for “not working”, not even noticing the flower, gecko, coconut that is watching them. I see them leave a week later with a whole new face (yes, you can SO see it on people’s faces!), a whole new beam of light that is so excited to get out and share itself with the world. I am not always the observer, but when I am, it is bliss.

I will share an experience from today. I ran the amazing technology behind a webinar that allowed a wonderful kahuna, Harry Jim, share the beautiful Hawaiian practice of Ho’oponopono with physically, temporarily sick people around the U.S.  Broadcast live from the beautiful EMAX performance studio set steps away from the Pacific Ocean, Harry spread a message of forgiveness to those sitting thousands of miles away, in front of computer screens in their homes. He said many things, he helped us breathe better with a lovely chant, he sent Aloha through the wires of the computers, cables, undersea fiber lines, data centers, and wireless connections. But through my perception, through my experience, something really landed. He said.

“There are two types of forgiveness:

Now, or Later.”

Just those simple, imperfect words have so much in them. They trigger so much in so many experiences or things we have been holding on to, or just feelings alone. He said it again,

“There are two types of forgiveness

Now

Or, Later.

Which are you choosing?”