ALOHA 2021

 

Aloha Greetings from Kauai!

Here we are into nearly our second full week on the island, with another week to go, and I'm still not totally acclimated to the "new normal".  

Last year, during the Covid Times, we didn't come of course.  We cancelled our trip and stayed locked in our house all spring, not having any idea that a whole year would pass before things started to feel even a little bit normal again.  Actually I'm convinced more and more that "normal" will be redefined for some time to come.  At any rate, Hawaii started letting visitors come back to the state but when we booked our stay in January it was with a wish rather than a guarantee.  We expected to have to cancel again.  Then came the vaccines (Hallelujia!) and Hawaii put a program in place to begin to welcome visitors if they passed a battery of physical and cognitive tests of will and patience to get the Golden Ticket in.

We had to register with Safe Hawaii online.  Then we had to schedule a particular type of Covid test (even if vaccinated) from a Hawaii-approved partner laboratory to ensure we got the results within 72 hours of flying.  (We passed dozens of not approved test sites before we got to an approved one 20 miles from our home). We had to register with the lab, then await them posting our test result (negative).  We had to pay them $175 per test, so before we got the test, we called our insurance to ensure we'd be reimbursed.  They said yes.  Then we had to fill out insurance forms and submit our request with a copy of the receipt.  We had to upload the negative result of the test to Safe Hawaii before leaving the ground in Seattle.  If the upload didn't work (ours didn't for some unknown reason; I followed the instructions to the letter!) we had to have a PDF print out of the result in hand to show at the airport.  Once we passed that hurdle we had to download a QR code on our phones at the Safe Hawaii website proving our negative Covid test status to show once we landed in Kauai and also at the car rental place, the resort, and any other place that might require seeing our test result to let us in.  Then we went to the beach. LOL

Speaking of car rentals...we had ours reserved since January and a good thing.  We have heard there are zero cars available to rent!  Last year, rental companies purged their inventory all across the US and people have taken to renting U-Hauls in some places to have something to drive! See?  Not normal.

Once here masks are required throughout Hawaii when indoors.  So we still mask up inside public spaces.  Once outside we take them off.  On, off, on, off.  Part of this, our home-away-from-home resort for 20+ years, has been sold to another company (no longer Marriott, now Royal Sonesta) but we still are Marriott time share owners, so our accommodations have not changed, but the "vibe" is different and I feel we've been shunted off to the side, but maybe that's just me resenting that we are no longer the valued guests we once were.  Hello, Ego. LOL

Also, the retail shops on the lower levels along the gardens are all gone.  My fave dress shop, Tropical Tantrum, is now the new Welcome Desk office for timeshare guests (having been evicted from the beautiful lobby now occupied by Royal Sonesta).  The jewelry store I never went in is an empty room behind dirty windows; the art gallery, car rental office, photography gallery -- all closed and empty.  There are no local craftspeople set up on the Terrace each morning.  No breakfast buffet on the Terrace either.  The two (over-priced) on-site restaurants are open only limited hours.   We don't mind so much because we grill every night but now there are only two grills for the entire resort (the third closed for social distancing) so the wait can be long.  We've learned to grill our fresh fish at 5:00 (a bit early for us) or 7:30 (in the dark), avoiding the prime dinner hour rush of long lines and people cooking huge hunks of red meat.  Ugh!

On the plus side -- no cruise ships are docking so our beach is not inundated with "boat people" or rowdy crew members several days a week.  It's a bit quieter -- no late night music from the bar down the beach or after-dark beach revelers.  The sun shines, the breezes blow, the waves crash, the night sky is awash with stars, the ocean water is warm, the pool is beautiful, our "spot" on the beach has been waiting for us every day. Hub has gotten better at riding the waves on his stand-up paddle board; I've read 4 books; hiking trails are not too crowded; our morning 4-5 mile walks are lovely and I've lost a bit more weight -- now at my lowest in decades.  (I'll write about this weight loss journey another time).   We are relaxed and content...it's truly a time of respite from responsibilities and obligations that come with the territory at home.  And a welcome celebration of traveling to another of our special places post-vaccine.

I notice that my gratitude for my life has grown deeper and more poignant since the Covid Times.  I am getting amazing clarity on what is truly important to me and my mindfulness of present moment is sharpened.  I have changed in some profound ways over the past couple of years of personal and societal challenge.  There is no room for taking anything for granted.  It's all a gift and appreciating every moment for the lessons we can learn, for the joy we can feel, for the love we can give and receive, for the effort we can make to create and preserve what is important to us is really all there is.  

I know, I know.  Easy for me to say from my perch on the lanai looking out at the beach and bay that is my view for three weeks.  Yet, we all have a view of some kind, something or someone we love, something we long for, something of beauty we appreciate now, something that provides meaning to our lives.

May we all find a "new normal" that sharpens the senses, deepens gratitude, and helps us grow in equanimity and peace.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

I'LL HAVE THE STEAMED YONI, PLEASE.

OK.  Let's explore Yoni Steaming!

First, "yoni".... anyone?  Let me help:  It's the Sanskrit word for "vagina" or "womb". The male counterpart is often referred to as a "lingam" but this isn't a direct Sanskrit translation.  We will go with it for now, though, since it is used in common parlance as such -- if you commonly parlance in these things.

At the World Elder Gathering we attended in Hawaii, there were breakout sessions designed for women only, yoni steaming being one.  I read the description of this deeply spiritual practice of womb honoring and it cracked me up.  I admit right here and now the ONLY reason I signed up was for blog fodder.  I mean, really!  Who wouldn't???  Besides, even after reading the description of the practice, I was unclear how my yoni could get steamed (other than the usual way).  I was on a research mission.

I showed up to the session with nine other women and found a circle of yoga mats, each with a 5- gallon bucket placed upon it, surrounding a beautiful altar laid out on a colorful scarf in the middle of the circle.  The young woman leading the session greeted us with a brilliant smile and warm, welcoming manner.  She was beautiful, 25 or so I'd guess, wearing a midriff baring halter and long skirt.  She had perfect skin.  I notice skin these days since I'm currently undergoing topical chemotherapy on my hands for pre-cancerous lesions, but that's another story.

I chose my mat and bucket and looked around.  The other women (ranging I'd guess from 55-75 years of age) looked as bewildered as I, but certainly game for the experience.  There was also giggling.

Our leader asked us to sit quietly and started us off with a guided meditation on the deep spiritual significance of our womanly bodies, focusing on the womb and its many wonders as a place of procreation, shelter, a place of power, and insight.  I'm a sucker for a good guided meditation.  I was getting into it, but kept being a tiny bit distracted by the technicality of having no womb.  (Hysterectomy: 2001)  I wondered if I was committing fraud by being there.

Next we did a check-in where we went around and talked of our responses to the meditation, so I mentioned this fraudulent feeling and my years of infertility and anger at my body and parts that didn't work right, tears welled in my eyes...what the hell?!?  This wasn't funny anymore!  I actually dropped my cynical, "I'm only here for the material" stance and shared honestly.  As did everyone else.  We were assured that the "womb space" remains regardless of actually having the anatomically correct apparatus.  I found this oddly moving.

But then it was finally time to start the actual steam, so I regained my bemused affectation and waited patiently while our leader poured a hot (steaming!) herbal potion into glass mixing bowls (like a yummily-scented tea).  The herbs were a mixture meant for post-menopausal women.  She knew her audience.  Once poured, each bowl was placed inside the 5-gallon bucket and a beautifully crafted smooth wooden toilet-type seat (think luxurious outhouse) was placed over the bucket.  We shed our undies, picked up our long skirts, and lowered our nether parts onto the seat where the steam was rising to bathe our yonis in a nice warm elixir of nurture.   It felt pretty great.

The idea was to do a 20 minute sit.  (I thanked my Yoga and meditation practices for the core and back strength to remain in an upright and unsupported position for this long).  While sitting, our leader did a simple singing bowl performance (so soothing) as well as a Goddess chant in Sanskrit (beautiful voice).  The yoni tissues, being warmed by steam, relax and swell and she says the vaginal space opens to allow the steam to rise to the womb space...I don't know about that.  But it did feel nice -- not in a sexual way, but more like an "ahhhh...." relaxing massage sort of way.  She encouraged us to vocalize with her.

I've done this before in other settings, including Yoga classes, and always feel a bit self-conscious.  But we all sort of started to hum or hiss or sing as she made the singing bowl ring and it was actually quite lovely.

Until I detected a disturbance on the other side of the room.  I opened my eyes and realized our leader had walked to the entrance to dissuade a MALE conference attendee from walking through our Yoni Steaming space to get to his room.  Uh...NO!  I saw her motion to him silently to go away, as she shook her head no.  He ignored her!  He walked right through (along the wall at least, not in the middle of our circle).  It totally funked my vibe!  I was so pissed at male privilege, discounting women, abuses suffered at men's hands -- maybe I projected a bit of historical patriarchy on the poor guy who just wanted to take a nap, but sheesh!  I do have to think he didn't know what he was walking into and was likely completely appalled to find ten Elder women sitting on buckets, "vocalizing".  I hope the image haunts his dreams for years to come, because he acted like a total lingam!

When steam time came to an end we de-throned and arranged ourselves in a lying down position on our Yoga mats for a few moments of Savasana (basically lying still in a quiet, meditative frame of mind).  Then we sat and did a check out and to a woman, there did seem to be a theme of feeling nurtured, healed, and renewed by the experience.  Go figure.

I left still thinking the whole idea was a bit bizarre.  And I do see the humor in suggesting this as a "girls night out" activity.  But let me say this:  When women come together, stories are told.   This exercise ended up being surprisingly moving.  Once past the curiosity and giggles, we shared our stories -- of shame, abuse, infertility, miscarriage, abortion, of being sexually active or of sex being a distant memory -- the stories of women's bodies, women's lives.  By focusing our attention with loving intention on a body part that is both worshipped and vilified, both caressed and violated, we took back what belongs to us.  We loved ourselves back to wholeness.  And that is no laughing matter.

At least, that's the view from here...©

STARRY, STARRY NIGHT...OR NOT

"Are the stars out tonight?...I don't know if it's cloudy or bright..."  Do you remember that line from a song to which I don't recall the title? (Name that tune!)   Well, we went stargazing in Hawaii.

We booked a pricey tour (a rarity for us). We justified it by recognizing the opportunity to get to the top of Mauna Kea with a guide doing all the driving and narrating, have a dinner on the way, see the sunset from up top, and get a close-up of the night sky through their telescopes (a 7-1/2 hour tour).  The cost suddenly seemed worth it.

With great anticipation we met our driver/guide at the tour headquarters in Kona-Kailua.  A few others from our tour were also there.  We got on our brand new and really comfy14 passenger mini-bus and headed out, with high spirits.  We drove about 15 miles -- to pick up more passengers.  We drove another few miles -- to pick up our pre-made picnic suppers (BBQ chicken or Tofu wrap).  We drove another 30 miles to pick up more passengers.  All along the way our guide entertained and educated us with Hawaiian history and lore, geology and culture.  Still -- it's a lot of driving and the first hour basically felt like we were getting nowhere as we went out of the way to make stops.  No matter I was still so excited!

Our fellow tourists were a fine group.  I had already pegged the young couple across the aisle from us as newlyweds, which turned out to be the case as I learned as we all took turns introducing ourselves.  The give-away for me was the way the new husband kept fingering and twirling his wedding band.  My son did the same when he was first married with a similarly startled, contented, quizzical look while contemplating the ring finger.  There was another newlywed couple from Seattle (vintage Mariners T-shirt made us recognize their home town), a middle-aged couple who met on E-Harmony -- he the talkative one from Houston who seemed annoyed that the task of teaching his grandson to hunt deer fell to him since his son refused to do it.  Generational clash, I guess.  There was a lovely couple from England who asked insightful questions listening carefully and with interest to the answers.  I don't recall details about the others,  but all seemed very happy to be on the tour and eager for the star experience.

We stopped at the base of the road to the summit of Mauna Kea.  An old sheep shearing station, abandoned, provided a picturesque backdrop for our picnic supper set out at tables under a big awning tent.  The food was surprising tasty and we enjoyed the time to wander around, shooting photos and starting to acclimate to altitude.  We were at 7000 ft. elevation.  We were encouraged to drink as much water as possible (they provided souvenir water bottles) to ward off any elevation-related dehydration headaches.  I hate headaches.  I drank.

Back on the bus we continued up, up, up.  At about 8,000 ft. elevation we stopped again to see a huge radio wave receiver just like the ones in that old movie, Contact.   Still looking for life in the great beyond.  I filled my water bottle and kept drinking.

Up we continued, passing the visitor center at 9000 ft. elevation and venturing onto the 4 mile section of dirt road that is recommended for 4-wheel traffic only.  It was a washboard, but not terrible.  Plenty of "regular" cars were braving it, but car rental companies probably frowned on the practice.

Finally, we reached the summit.  The elevation was just under 14,000 feet.  The wind was blowing like crazy.  The tour company provided parkas for which I was most grateful.  We knew enough to wear long pants and real shoes.  I couldn't believe there were people up there in flip-flops, T-shirts and shorts!  At top are a variety of observatories housing research telescopes of varying sizes.  While they are guarded by park rangers, they are not necessarily staffed by the scientists who study the Universe.  Each is hooked to a computer somewhere else and the computer tells the telescope what to look at and remotely aims it in that direction.  Arm-chair astronomy!  The landscape was stark but hauntingly beautiful.

I would really have enjoyed it a lot more if.....I hadn't followed the hydrating directions to extreme.  I got out of the bus and felt the predicted lightheadedness of high altitude, but no headache (yay!).   But, the predominant bodily sensation was "I gotta pee so bad!" -- distractingly bad.  The two Port-A-Potties were down the hill about a hundred yards.  I knew my lightheadedness would make the trek back up the hill more than a little uncomfortable.  I noticed the sun beginning to set behind a bank of clouds, but all I could focus on was my brimming bladder.  Hub, what a trooper, found a big transformer box at the back of the parking lot and guided me behind it where he stood guard while I dropped trou and squatted.  When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

We rushed back to the western edge of the parking lot and just caught the sun descending into a cloud.  It was stunning.  And quick.  Within a few minutes we were back on the bus heading to the Visitor Center where we'd get to see the majesty of the Galaxy, the Main Event!

Except we were no sooner underway when those clouds thickened, darkened, and let fall a dowsing rain that didn't let up and which also provided us a thunder and distant lightning display.  We still stopped at the Visitor Center, hopeful the storm would pass.  It didn't.  No stars.  We loaded up again and drove the 40 miles back to where we'd started six hours earlier.  The driver was markedly quiet and drove much faster -- like a horse to the barn.  I felt it was a long day and a long drive for a picnic and a hurried sunset.

To say we were disappointed is an understatement.  So much so that we went back on our own a few days later --not to the top, but to the Visitor Center where the skies were clear but the moon had waxed to half-full and its brightness created a glow that made many of the stars disappear in the moonlight.  We did look through the telescopes there and saw craters on the moon, rings around Saturn, and a star cluster.  So all was not lost.  The tour company gave us a 30% refund and the brownie muffin we had on the way off the mountain was outstanding, so there's that.

What I know now is that the starry night sky in Kalani was the most magnificent sky we would see on the whole trip, planned tour notwithstanding.  A good reminder to appreciate what's right in front of me instead of thinking the grass is greener, or the sky is starrier, somewhere else.

At least, that's the view from here... ©

ELDERS IN THE JUNGLE

I am so happy to be home.  I am not a good traveler, actually.  I used to long to run away, crave a change of scenery and an escape from my "real life".  Now I am sort of amazingly content to stay home.  I still enjoy the occasional change of scenery, but I rarely feel a craving or need for it.  When I do, a few days away and I'm renewed and ready to come home.  Everything I love is right here.  Plus, traveling is full of "hassle-factor" frustrations and physical discomforts -- two things I've worked hard to NOT have in my life!  (Like NOT having WiFi on the trip and unable to blog it in real time!)

But anyway, we just got back from the "Big Island", Hawaii.  We had not visited there for 27 years -- I recall Son-One was 3 yrs old and held my hand the entire time.  Literally.  And thanks be to the gods, I remember even at the time telling myself that in spite of how clung to I felt, to cherish that time since it wouldn't be long before he would shun my outstretched hand.  I was right.  Son-Two was 18 months old and hated every minute of the trip, fussy and out of sorts most of the time.  Now he loves to jet off to new places.  I wonder now why parents even want to travel that far with little tiny children -- but we saw plenty of them doing it, as we did so long ago.

This time it was just the two of us and the impetus was to attend the World Elder Gathering of the Mankind Project, in which Hub has been actively involved for nearly 20 years.  Yep, from parents of wee ones to "elders".  We've come a long way.  The gathering of about 150  elder men and women (over 50 years old) was held at Kalani Resort, in the Puna District south of Hilo -- the jungly wet side of the island.  We lucked out and had perfectly sunny skies nearly the whole time (one night of rain, while we slept).  Kalani is beautiful.  Here, cruise through the website:  https://kalani.com  Our accommodation was the largest of the Treehouse rooms and it was heavenly to sleep in a room largely enclosed by only screens, letting in the welcome breezes (when there were some...it was very hot and humid!  We were grateful for the fans!) as well as the sounds of nature, including the invasive Coqui  tree frogs that set to "singing" at dusk and well into the night.

The schedule was jam-packed with programming for men and women separately and men and women together.  One co-ed presentation that most motivated me was by a physician who spoke about nutrition and advocated a mostly vegan diet both for health and the planet.  His claim was that most modern ailments are diet-related and I saw his points.  Hub thought he was a bit on the extreme side, but we both noted places where we could be more conscientious consumers of food and resources.   Kalani itself it devoted to sustainability and healthy cuisine, so we got a good start at the retreat.  Today I'm getting a new crock-pot.

At one of the women's sessions we created a croning ritual that was joyful and moving.  I know the word "crone" has taken on a seriously negative connotation, but it is actually a term of respect and recognition of a woman in her wisdom years and I can embrace that.  The ritual was for each woman to enter the circle, wearing a length of fabric as a belt,  and state an answer to the questions:  1.  What have you learned?  2.  What are you now learning?  3.  What will you teach?  It was profound to hear the answers. Then, as she stood alone, five women at a time approached her with a 3 foot length of ribbon upon which was written a characteristic that had served them in their lives and with which each wanted to bless the new crone, i.e., love, compassion, strength, humor, courage, etc.  Each woman tied her ribbon to the belt and said "I bless you with...courage (or whatever her word).  At the end of the ritual the crone stood alone in the circle wearing her new crone skirt flowing with 20 colorful ribbons writ with words of affirmation and received the blessing of the group.   It was quite beautiful and for some extremely emotional.

One afternoon there were breakout sessions for women on various topics.  I chose Yoni Steaming.  Of course.  Because how could one pass up an opportunity to experience that???

At least, that's the view from here...

Most were from the US, some from U.K., a lot from Australia.

The Gathering in the main building.

Sitting area in our "treehouse" (Second story walk-up on a hill really felt like a treehouse!)

OLD FRIENDS AT THE BEACH

Well, I'm home from our annual Kauai hula with the palms.  So incredibly relaxing and just what I needed to reset myself back to: "Let's see if we can start over and not get so stressed about life this time."  Worth a try, and feels doable now, in the afterglow of a nearly perfect vacation.

We were super chill this trip.  We stayed at our timeshare Marriott resort on the ocean, which also boasts the largest pool on Kauai and acres of gardens and walking paths.  It's really beautiful.  And we barely left the property, except to take our morning walks along beachfront trails and extended walking paths that meander in a huge loop around the golf course.   I did some of that walking; Hub did it every day -- about 5 miles at each outing (overachiever that he is).   Other than that we claimed our lounge chairs on the lawn under the palms at the beach and camped out there for several hours each day.  Occasionally we strolled to the pool for a refreshing plunge, then back to the beach.  Hub did a lot of Boogie Boarding and I read a lot of books.  Ten.

When I told a friend that I read ten books in twelve days, she was a little surprised.  I had to quickly explain these were not the Great Russian novels.  They were more like a gathering of old friends, a reunion with bright, funny, inspiring, interesting people, both real and fictional.

I used to be a voracious reader.  I don't know precisely when that fell away, but sometime around peri-menopause and a full time job and corralling teenagers and caring for my ailing mother, I lost my ability to focus long enough to stick with a novel.  I was in a bookclub but after a while I realized I was going for the socializing and the great desserts, rarely even finishing the assigned book.  I was not a very lively contributor to the conversation -- about the book anyway.  Occasionally another woman and I would digress into People magazine reporting and trash TV updates, which was great fun and quite lively.  But that just demonstrates where my brain was at that time.

For the trip I took two paperbacks with me, but didn't want to pack any more than that, so I went on  the public library website to load ebooks onto my Kindle.  I love memoir and essay collections (go figure!) and given how stressed I've been I wanted to find some humor too.  And I'm always up for inspiring "self-help" books.  So here's my list:

NONFICTION
Ageless Body/Timeless Mind -- Deepak Chopra   A classic that's now 20 years old has been on my shelf, unread, for years.  But since I now would like to achieve both of these things, I decided to see what he had to say.  I love the sound of Deepak's voice -- deep and resonant with that lovely accent.  I do the daily meditations that he and Oprah post on online occasionally and I could almost "hear" him talking as I read.  The book is a bit dated, but still I found it inspiring and it helped me shift my perspective and find the peace I was seeking early in the trip.  And it fit with lots of the thinking I've been doing lately about healthy, natural aging.

Orange is the New Black -- Piper Kerman  This is the memoir upon which the hit Netflix show is based.  It's the tale of Piper's youthful flirtation with the drug world and how ten years later (after completely going legit and having a normal, happy, productive life) she is sent to prison for her earlier (relatively minor) involvement in a drug ring.  I watched the show for about half the first season and for some reason it didn't resonate with me then.  But the book is great!  Honest, insightful, sympathetic, terrifying, and quite the indictment of our prison system and over-zealous sentencing laws.  I came away with a new perspective and the urge to lobby for reform.   I'm also going to give the show another try.

Believer: My Forty Years in Politics -- David Alexrod  I'm sort of a political campaign junkie -- all the more so when the candidate is someone I so admire.  That would be Barack Obama.  Or "Almost God" as I like to call him.  David Alexrod was his Communications Director for the campaigns and also for a time in the White House.  Inside stories around public events in recent history are irresistible!  I relived my time growing up near Chicago too.  Alexrod also lived and worked there naming all the "big time" politicians of the day he worked with before he hooked up with Obama and his life took surrealistic spin into national politics.  Fascinating read, even if a little self-serving at times, but hey -- ya gotta have a little bit of ego to do his job.

Small Victories -- Anne Lamott  Oh, Anne, I love you so.  Her essays are so funny, so smart, so true, so inspiring.  I could read her forever and I actually have.  All of her books are on my home bookshelf and I get her regular Facebook post essays too.  Plus, she is my favorite Christian and she could also be my best friend.  We all feel that way.

Dad is Fat -- Jim Gaffigan  I LOVE to laugh out loud.  This book had me in tears of laughter.  I kept apologizing to Hub, next to me on his lounge chair trying to concentrate on the NYT crossword, but he said he loved the sound of my laughter.  Good thing.  This is a funny book by a well-known stand-up comedian about his NYC family life with five young children.  I kept thinking of Son One and his stories of life with his kids.  Son One is really funny too.  I'm getting this book for him for Father's Day.

Live Right and Find Happiness -- Dave Barry  Gaffigan only whetted my appetite for more humor.  I was reminded how much I used to enjoy reading Dave Barry's collections of columns from when he wrote for the Miami Herald.  But he quit that job and I sort of lost track of him.  Rediscovering him in this book, I realized he is remarried with a daughter now 14, and his son (who last I heard was nine years old!) is now grown, married, and has a son.  Oh, Dave, so great to read you again and to find you are still laugh-out-loud funny with your dead-on irony, school-boy silliness, and great big heart.

Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake -- Anna Quindlen  Another favorite from many years ago, Anna Quindlen wrote the story of my life about the "mom years", raising young children, as well as social and political commentary in her NYT column and later in a regular column in Newsweek.  Every word rang true then...and still does in this look at turning 60, her three children now grown, as she looks ahead to the eldering years of her life.  She and Anne Lamott -- my writing and age-mate heroes; wish I could say it as well -- maybe I'll change my name to AnnSomething.

Survival Lessons -- Alice Hoffman  I love, love, love, Alice Hoffman's fiction.  But again, I'd lost track of her when I basically stopped reading fiction and I got caught up with this very slim nonfiction work written shortly after her battle with breast cancer.  It's a series of reminders to appreciate all of life's simple blessings.

FICTION:
The Museum of Extraordinary Things -- Alice Hoffman  Since Alice was on my mind, I found this recent novel and was hooked again on all things Alice.  I love her evocative, slightly weird, a little skewed characters and settings.  This one was full of melancholy and hope -- as most of her books are -- and chock full of magical realism which is a favorite genre.  Loved it.

The Ice Queen -- Alice Hoffman  A strange one; not my favorite, but still interesting with the same bent to the unusual and magical in the lives of everyday folks.   Part prose, part poetry in form with an interesting premise, but characters uncharacteristically underdeveloped, I thought.

I think part of the wonderfulness of this trip was setting aside any real responsibilities, ditching schedules, appointments, meetings, and deadlines.  It was indulging my Introvert with days and days of sweet interaction with only my Hub and no one else other than a passing "hello".  I meditated, walked, read, lounged, ate lots of local fish and fruit, and got re-acquainted with old friends between the pages of books.  Yep, pretty near perfection.

At least, that's the view from here....©

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE HIGHLIGHT REEL

I'm on vacation.  I promised myself I would lay off Facebook while I'm away this time, but I lied.  I can't do it.  I love Facebook.  I love keeping in touch with my friends and family, catching the news of the day, finding the silly and the sublime that is Facebook.  I've been posting photos of our trip, of course, although not quite as many as I usually do.  How can you miss me if I won't go away, right?

Son Two tells me Facebook is the "highlight reel" of everyone's life and I get what he means.  Rarely do folks post photos of themselves looking, acting, and feeling rotten.   I actually appreciate it when they do, since for me Facebook is a community and I love it best when it's interactive and honest.  But then, I keep my " FB Friends" list pretty well cleaned up to include people I care about and am willing to be honest with -- no old high school rivals, horrible ex-bosses, or former boyfriends I'm still trying to impress.

But I guess I'm guilty of the "highlight reel" thing too.  I don't usually post photos that make me look fat (it's the photo, it's not me!) and I pick pretty, fun things to display -- none of me sitting in construction zone traffic, getting pounded to the sand by a rogue wave, or lying in bed for several hours with a headache.  (Also part of Hawaiian adventures!)

I was thinking of this as we've traveled around the island on this trip.  I wondered if all the people I saw in less than total "Aloha Spirit" were also posting "highlight reel" coverage of their trip?

There was a young couple at the pool, she in a lounge chair reading and he walking toward her with a Mai Tai and a Pina Colada.  He reached out to offer her the Pina and she was having none of it.  In fact, she was pissed, a dark scowl on her face as she berated him and told him she DID NOT WANT that!  Hub and I observed this with some consternation and amusement -- telling ourselves the inside story that:  A) he was only being nice and she was a bitch; B) he'd been drinking all day and she was sick of it and trying to dissuade more of the same.    Whatever the story, she got up and stormed away while he chugged the Mai Tai and half the Pina.  Post that!

Then at the Kauai Coffee Company, crowded with coffee connoiseurs tasting every conceivable roast and blend, I saw a woman of about 70 literally stomp her foot and declare to her friend, loudly, "He just pushes my buttons and I CAN'T STAND IT!"  I noticed a man of about the same age turn and glare at her.  Another moment of wedded bliss, I thought.  Post that!

At the snorkeling beach yesterday I sat on a shady bench on the lawn watching Hub navigate the warm, blue sea observing the underwater life (I don't like to put my face in the water...but I'm working on it) when a man of about 50 joined me, but immediately sat on the far end with his back to me.  Not interested in casual conversation, I assumed; fine with me.  Soon a woman joined him and since he grabbed her butt, I figured he knew her pretty well.  They began to talk and before long he became quite animated.  It was weird, since they were right next to me, but maybe it was the wind, waves, and the fact that they were facing away from me, but I couldn't make out a word he was saying.  But boy was he mad!  He was on a rant about something that had to be expressed with great arm waving and swearing because literally the only words I could hear, since he placed his emphasis there, was f*#k, f*#king, f*#k!  And "never again!"  He was not mad at her...she was a sympathetic listener, but boy, something had riled him up!  Post that!

Yesterday, back at the pool, an attractive young couple sat facing each other on the edge of their chairs, she holding about a 10-month-old little boy on her lap.  They were engaged in what seemed to be an intense conversation.  As I walked by I saw him lean forward and interrupt her to say, "Look!  Let me spell this out for you!"  I wanted to smack him and feared for the role modeling he was providing for his son.  I hope she told him to shut the f*#k up, but I kept walking, so don't know how their drama ended.  Still, post that!

I guess my point is, "highlight reel" or not, real life comes along on vacation with us.   I'm just glad Hub and I are so compatible at this point in our marriage.  We've grown closer this trip rather than more irritated.  Rest assured, when we are smiling in those Facebook posts, we really mean it.  And for that, I'm truly grateful.

At least, that's the view from here...©

THE FRIENDLY SKIES?

Here we are.  Our annual Kauai vacation and it feels like coming home.  It's always worth the dread of the flight -- once I'm on the ground.

I wish I was an eager flier.  I'm not.  Way, way back in the day I used to think it was fun and exciting. But then we weren't herded into packed airplanes with narrow seats, 3 abreast, and absolutely no legroom, feeling like sardines packed into a high class tin.

Also there was that one flight, in 1981, when we flew through a storm with 80 MPH winds on the ground and god knows what kind of craziness in the air, but the 747 (yes, that long ago...) suddenly turned into a roller coaster dipping from side to side and gaining and losing elevation for about an hour until we finally hit the ground (hard) and coasted to a much appreciated stop on the tarmac.  But not before I lost my stomach a few times, utilizing that little "barf bag" in the seat back pocket.   It was one of my life's most miserable and embarrassing episodes and put me off flying ever since.

So, I have a bit of PTSD whenever I arrive at the airport.  I have tried a million ways to calm my pre-flight anxieties over the years and, once on the plane, I have to really WORK at staying calm.  It's quite exhausting, actually.

A few days ago I decided to try some medication therapy.  I always take a Dramamine, but I wondered if a little Xanax would help even more.  I hit the Internet and saw dozens of sites and "chats" about my affliction and how others deal with it.  Meditation (check), deep breathing (check), visualization (check), Dramamine (check), Xanax and the like (maybe?), alcohol (don't do that any more).  Everyone had a "remedy" or at least a way to try to cope.  Some had anxiety way more severe than mine, which unfortunately made me feel better (where's my compassion?).

So, I was prepared yesterday with a recommended cocktail of Dramamine (nausea), Xanax (anxiety), and Pepto Bismol (stomach acid).  I really and truly HATE taking pills/medicine of any kind and especially those that "drug" me.  But I felt I'd do it if I was desperate (it worked on our cruise last summer).  But once I was on the plane, with only Dramamine in me, I decided to see how it went rather than put myself into a possibly unnecessary stupor.

Turns out it was one of the smoothest flights we've ever taken to Hawaii.  I read (new Kindle -- love it!) all the way and there was no turbulence and I didn't get claustrophobic and all was well -- even if the last hour of the flight seemed to take forever.  (By the way, may I recommend Alaska Airlines Boeing 737-800/900 series airplane?  Roomy!!! Plug ins for devices and chargers!!!)

It's unclear to me why the many great flights I've taken cannot seem to compensate for that one really terrible one, but anxiety is a tricky thing and a cruel task master.  I am learning to manage it, if not overcome it.

And thankfully this is the reward for persevering:

At least, that's the (literally!) view from here....©

SCROOGE YOU, CHRISTMAS!

Oh, Christmas Season…you old foe.  I've largely given up the urge to run from adversity, having gained skill in "being with what is" and filling my emotional toolbox with a wide selection of just the right gadgets to get me through most anything, eventually.  But you….you….you still get to me.

One of my BFFs is jetting off to Kona this weekend for a month-long stay and I am still holding out hope she will kidnap me and make me go along.  And when I say "make me" I mean, my bag is packed.  But more likely I will be here for the duration of the Falalala-ing with December 26th circled in red on my calendar -- my favorite day of the time period from Thanksgiving to New Year's.  What some call a let-down, I call relief.

Relief from the traditions, expectations, "to-do" lists, socializing, shopping, wrapping, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, last minute shopping, lists, lists, lists, socializing, socializing, socializing, socializing….

I hear your advice, so don't even bother.  You would be amazed at how little I do for the season compared to when my kids were young and I ran around like a friggin' Martha Stewart clone.  To look at how I do the season now, comparatively, you'd think I was comatose.  Still…

I don't think it is entirely my own doing that causes me to fall into a Christmas Season funk.  I think it's the whole craziness that has grown up around it and this culture of commercialism that has influenced even the ways in which we think we are rebelling against it all.  As if the pressure weren't great enough to create a meaningful, festive holiday I now am asked to "walk my talk" at an even brisker pace.

The pressure to "shop local" means no gifts or gift cards from stores my family loves.  (I must have been a terrible mom to raise children to adulthood who go the mall for clothing -- where's your sewing machine???  And buy their lumber at Lowe's -- grow your own!!!)  No bulk items from Costco that would make food and drink more affordable (even if I only buy organic, free trade, uncaged cheesecake?).   No new Christmas music downloaded from I Tunes (get out the old clarinet; make your own music!), No new books (and every single other thing I can imagine) from Amazon  (Fine…I'll write a book and impose it upon my unsuspecting loved ones).   It's just a different version of the quest for perfection.

So, yeah.  I'd like to be sitting on a beach about now and on Christmas morning,  papaya juice running down my chin, Mai Tai in hand, I'd raise my glass to shield the sun.  My BFF and her hub would then serenade me on their dual ukeleles plunking out a little "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", as the waves kiss the shoreline.   Yep, that sounds about right.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©