Christmas Photo Cards

We've started to get family picture cards in the mail.

The question for us this year was, where do we put them? In years past, we would get the photo cards and magnet them to the refrigerator. This year, however, no fridge. Kim solved it for us by taking some cuttings from Karen's Christmas tree and hanging them from our walls. She strung up some ribbon to the cuttings and clipped pictures to the ribbon and the branches using our wooden clothespins. I really like it, it actually looks better than sticking them up on the fridge.

We get a whole variety of different photos coming to us. Some families choose to get a definite posed shot on the card. The children may be wearing some kind of matching aloha print wear and smiling for the camera. On the day of the shoot, it may have been a little bit of an effort to make sure everyone's hair was combed properly, no food smudges on the clothes, everyone was in a good mood, and at that moment the shutter clicks--all eyes were opened. It's a lot to juggle in capturing that one moment you want to share with your family and friends.

One of our dear friends sent us a card with some incredibly beautiful photos of her and her son. When I complimented her on the shots, she let me in on a little bit of the back story of the photo shoot. She hired a professional to do the photos and was excited about creating something wonderful. The weather was spectacular and everything was set--except her three year old son was in a foul mood. With deft skills and a little bit of M&Ms she was able to get him to be a stellar model. It's amazing how a little bit of extra sweetness can help you get things done.

Some families choose a montage of different photos taken throughout the year for their cards. They scour through their digital cameras or their photo files looking for the perfect moments to place on the cards. This year, for our photo card, we decided to pose for a shot as well as add photos from the year. Finding the photos from the year was easy. The pose was a different story. We decided to sit in front of Karen's tree and all wear blue. The tree was lit up, hair and make up set, beard trimmed and combed, doggie hat placed on Butch, three year old dressed and wiped, and Karen instructed on how to use our camera.
"Okay, Bodhi come sit on Daddy's lap."
"No Daddy, I want to sit over here by myself."
Karen: "If he sits there he won't be in the frame."
"Cmon Bodhi."
"I don't want to take pictures."
I pick up Bodhi and place him on my lap and a small but tiresome tantrum ensues.
"Do you need to sit by yourself in the room for a bit?"
"No! No!--I don't need to go the room!"--Tears starting to stream down his cheeks.
Okay, take two-- Tears are wiped, smiles are propped up on our faces, I shake off the tantrum and send out as much love energy as I can muster because I believe that it translates in the photo, and click, click click several shots are taken.

Bodhi was never fully settled during the shoot. We actually have several shots of Kim and I sitting at the tree with Butch, Bodhi's legs in a dash in front of us darting out of the frame. I joked with Kim that we should have put that photo on our cards this year.

We always try to share our best with our friends and family. We try to choose photos that capture the essence of the love we feel for each other and those we are sharing the images with. The tantrums, the fights between siblings, and the dark moments of fear, anger and stress never make the final cut even though they too have made up part of the time that has passed during the year. We all want to shine, and so we should, for that is our true essence. But we also must take the time to reflect on all the moments that have gone by. Even the dark moments, if viewed properly, provide fertile soil for growth. I am reminded of the Buddhist teaching, that the deeper the mud the more glorious the lotus blossom. And vinters know that distressed vines produce some of the most interesting and wonderful grapes. Of course, we don't want to live in the mire, just learn the lesson and move on.

Jonathan Larson, in his Tony Award winning musical "Rent", reminds us that 525,600 minutes make up a year. He asks, "How do you measure the year in a life?" As the year comes to a close and we get these wonderful picture cards from loved ones, it's a good time for us think about our back stories and reflect on the moments that made up the year. What have we learned? Were we courageous in the face of fear? Did we experience as much joy as we could have? Have we forgiven ourselves for any missteps? Have we been as loving as we possibly could?

Let's measure 2009 in love.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

The Lights

The weather is getting colder here on the Big Island.

It's been in the upper 50s at night and in the mid 70s during the day. The mosquitos can't seem to manage the colder air and have left us alone for the past few weeks. The coqui frogs have gone quiet in the evenings as well. I guess the winter air doesn't foster their amorous desires to mate. The night skies have been clear and quiet, it's been wonderful to see the blanket of stars, unhindered by city lights, sparkling overhead.

I think I thrive better in cold weather. My thinking is clearer and my vision seems brighter. Those of you living in more temperate climates may be laughing at me and saying the upper 50s is downright balmy. But in the tropics anything below 65 is freezing. When we lived in Japan, I loved the way everything quieted down in the winter. The summers in Japan were a cacophony of cicadas in the trees during the day and frogs in the rice paddies at night. But as Autumn rolled around things would get quieter and quieter until winter's silence would cover everything. I also really loved walking home at night when I was a student in Denmark. The snow would crunch under my feet and the smell of wood fires burning in homes would embrace me as I made my way to my homestay.

The days are shorter, but the Christmas lights up around town make the evenings bright. Since our electricity is coming off of a 12 volt battery charged by our solar panels, we are not putting up lights on a tree or around the cabin. It really helps us appreciate the lights we do see all around.

Kim made us a wreath this year. It's a gorgeous piece made with native plants that we gathered with Karen on the slopes of Mauna Kea. It was beautiful on the day that we picked the material for the wreath. The air was crisp and clear as Karen began to oli us into the forest. As she chanted us in, I closed my eyes, my whole body seemed to buzz with energy and I got this strong sense of being at one with everything around me. As she came to the end of her oli, Spirit spoke to me and let me know that if I do things purposefully everything would work itself out. It was very profound. We spent about four hours in the forest gathering Liko Lehua, Uki, and Laiko. And now Kim's masterpiece is up and on display at the cabin to remind us of this wondrous season.

This past Saturday evening we went up to the Volcano Art Center in Volcano Village for a Christmas event. Volcano Village is at about 3500 ft. elevation. Whereas, Kurtistown is at about 1200 ft. elevation. So it gets a lot colder in Volcano Village. The event gave us the feel of having a "real" Christmas. To clarify, growing up in Hawai‘i, we are filled with images of a white Christmas with Santa coming down the chimney. But most Hawai‘i kids don't have first hand experience of dashing through the snow or walking through a winter wonderland. But this year at Volcano Village, as we stepped out of our car, seeing our breath plume out in front of us as we exhaled, we saw people all bundled up in jackets, some actually wearing scarves, people sipping hot apple cider and little ones standing around the yule log roasting marshmallows. What we needed to overlook, however, was looking down. Despite all of the bundling up on top, most people, even in Volcano Village, were wearing rubber flip flop slippers. It was a reality check that we were, of course, still in our tropical paradise.

While driving around the Village, Kim saw a sign posted in front of a house, "Wait 5 seconds." We thought this was a very good message. On one level it tells about the weather patterns here on Hawai‘i Island. If it's raining, just wait five seconds and the sun will show itself again and then it'll rain again. Nothing is permanent. On another level the message speaks of the benefit of action versus reaction. Most people are reactive rather than being purposefully active. The general tendency in human behavior is to be reactive to the world around us. Someone may cut us off on the highway and in a knee jerk reaction, the finger comes flying out the window. Our child may throw a tantrum and without a pause, we yell. The economy tanks and we run for cover. One of the beautiful things about meditation is that it trains your mind to be less reactive. As you sit in meditation, knees may start to ache or a fly may be buzzing around your head. The reactive thing to do would be change your position or to swat at the fly. But in meditation you are taught to just observe the phenomena without judgement and know that it will pass, that nothing is permanent. In essence, you are giving yourself that "five seconds" to experience life in a different way. It is an incredibly valuable skill to be able to take that five seconds in any situation, to breathe, then see the world from a different perspective and then act from a more meaningful place.

We ended our evening at Volcano Village caroling around to the different businesses in the area with a group from the Volcano Art Center. It was so much fun. The Holiday Season is upon us and it is so easy to get caught up in the rush of the days. Yesterday, Bodhi had an Advent Program at his school and it really helped us gain a better perspective on the season. The children all participated in walking around the Advent Spiral and placing candles in the circle. It was symbolic of our need to find our inner light during this season of darkness and shine it out to others.

The writer Robert Fulghum tells a story of a time he went to a Peace Conference that illustrates this point. A Greek philosopher and teacher ended a lecture asking, “Are there any questions?” In the audience was Robert Fulghum who asked, “Dr. Papaderos, what is the meaning of life?”

Fulghum relates: “The usual laughter followed, and people started to go. Papaderos held up his hand and stilled the room and looked at me for a long time, asking with his eyes if I was serious and seeing from my eyes that I was. ‘I will answer your question,’ he said. Then taking his wallet out of his hip pocket, he fished into it and brought out a very small, round mirror, about the size of a quarter. Then he said, ‘When I was a small child, during the war, we were very poor and we lived in a remote village. One day, on the road, I found several broken pieces of a mirror from a wrecked German motorcycle. I tried to find all the pieces and put them together, but it was not possible, so I kept only the largest piece. This one. And by scratching it on a stone, I made it round. I began to play with it as a toy and became fascinated by the fact that I could reflect light into dark places where the sun would not shine – in deep holes and crevices and dark closets. It became a game for me to get light into the most inaccessible places I could find.

'I kept the little mirror, and as I went about my growing up, I would take it out in idle moments and continue the challenge of the game. As I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just a child’s game but a metaphor for what I might do with my life. I came to understand that I am not the light or the source of the light. But light – truth, understanding, knowledge – is there, and it will only shine in many dark places if I reflect it.'

‘I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not know. Nevertheless, with what I have, I can reflect light into the dark places of this world – into the black places in the hearts of men – and change some things in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am about. This is the meaning of my life.' “And then he took his small mirror and, holding it carefully, caught the bright rays of daylight streaming through the window and reflected them onto my face and onto my hands folded on the desk."


Wait five seconds,

Appreciate the light,

Reflect the light,

Be the light, that is our only job in this glorious world.

The Spell

I've always dreamed of sitting around and doing nothing.

It's been about a month since the last of the major projects on the cabin have been completed. Kim and I have been blessed with the luxury of time to sit, to listen to ourselves, and to gain clarity for what's ahead. Although I've never been a fan of the Puritan work ethic that seems to drive a large portion of this country, I have found that there is some truth in the statement, "Idle hands are the Devil's workshop." This is especially true if there is too much time to think and the ego gets a hold of the loudspeaker.

For awhile we fell under the spell of lethargy. Days would be flowing into days without any real drive to move forward. But the real danger of lethargy can be found in it's Greek origin lethargos or forgetfulness. In our idleness we were forgetting why we were out on the land. We would drive through the neighborhood around Bodhi's school and wonder if we should have bought a one acre lot with a house already on it rather than a ten acre lot of raw land. What the heck are we going to do with ten acres of raw land? Is life in the middle of a tropical rainforest really for us?

About a week ago, when we were in Honolulu, there were days of torrential rain storms here on the Big Island and the cabin got it. We came back to find mold all over our dining room table, on Bodhi's toys, and on some of our clothes. The only real succinct way to describe it is---gross. We spent the first two days back on the Big Island at Karen's in Hilo, while Kim and I went up to the land to clean up the mess left by the big rains. We got the place cleaned up pretty well, all of the laundry washed, and of course, as it always does, the sun broke through the clouds for a few days and dried up everything. When the sun did show, the temperature was in the high 60s with breezes blowing out of the north. It's the time of year when the sun comes in at an angle that casts long shadows across the landscape. It was glorious to be out on the land, having breakfast on the deck, listening to jazz and feeling the cool drying breeze blow over what was once wet and boggy.

As I sit here and write this it's easy to see the gloriousness of what we are experiencing as a family. But sometimes when you are in the midst of muddy feet and wet everything, the longing for modern conveniences run high. These feelings come at you fast when you have idle time.

I'm in no way advocating busyness for the sake of busyness. I saw a lot of that in Honolulu. One of the things I noticed was that not a lot of people just hang out in Honolulu during a week day. I was at Ward Center at lunch time and everyone around seemed to be very directed; either a business lunch meeting, rushing through a meal, or behind the wheels of their cars heading back to the office. The only people I noticed really hanging out were senior citizens, 20 something college students, mommies with young babies, and the well heeled set.

When you walk around Hilo Town on a weekday, it seems like everyone is just hanging out.

Where do we find the balance between being and doing? Too much idleness leads to the mire of lethargy and a feeling of purposelessness. Too much activity without contemplation leads to the unexamined life that Socrates warns us about. It's a matter of balancing the two aspects of our being. As spiritual beings, being in a state of Being is enough. But as physical beings in this material world, we crave action and movement to create some sense of purpose in our lives. There is no judgement on either aspect of our being, it just is what it is.

Thanksgiving, and a few days before, really helped to break the acedia for Kim and I. A couple of days before Thanksgiving, I was asked to dust off my ordination and officiate a wedding ceremony. At first, I didn't want to perform the ceremony. It had been a few years since Kim and I had officiated a wedding and I was feeling out of practice and not looking forward to being in front of a group a people. It had been raining a lot on the morning of the wedding and there was a part of me that was hoping the couple would cancel the whole affair. About two hours before the event, the sun broke through and the ocean front location was absolutely gorgeous. The bride and groom looked young and nervous standing in front of me and in front of all of their family and friends. They had, however, that sparkle of new wonderful beginnings. Being a part of the union of the young couple was very meaningful and helped me to make a crack in the shell of spiritual apathy that was currently surrounding my Higher Self.

Preparing for our Thanksgiving meal was also a real balm to my soul. For me, being out in Karen's garden and breaking a sweat while harvesting the corn, being in the hot kitchen helping to chop, stir, lift, pour, and washing dishes and pots until my fingers were pruned was revitalizing and refreshing. And each trip to the store on Thanksgiving morning for oil, or pie crusts, or whipped cream, or canned pumpkins, was a pilgrimage to purposefulness. I truly appreciated that the spell of lethargy was being broken on the day set aside specifically for giving thanks. It is so appropriate that Thanksgiving leads the way into the Christmas Season, because in order for us to truly be in a space of giving and receiving we must first be in a space of gratitude for what we already have.

So as far as the dream of sitting around and doing nothing, I do believe it needs to get balanced out with mindful action. The followers of the teachings of Ernest Holmes' Science of Mind practice doing spiritual treatments. A spiritual treatment is an affirmative statement of one's intention, basically an affirmative prayer request. Many Science of Mind practitioners are familiar with the statement, "Treat, treat, treat, then move your feet". So when do we know it's a good time to move our feet? Well here's a little story that helps me contemplate that question.

A hawk and a vulture are flying in the sky. The hawk was flapping his wings hard and was very excited about hunting for a meal. The hawk exclaimed,"Ohhh! boy ohhh boy! I'm going to catch me some rabbit today! MMMMM! Rabbit. You ready to eat some rabbit?"
"I'm just waiting on the will of God." answered the vulture.
"Waiting? I'm not waiting for anything! First rabbit I see, I'm devouring."
"I'm just waiting on the will of God." said the vulture.
Just then the hawk spots a rabbit and knowing exactly what he wanted, he bared his talons and darts toward the rabbit. Just as the hawk was about to grab the rabbit, the rabbit hops out of the way and the hawk crashes straight into a pile of rocks and drops dead. Up above, the vulture circled around the scene a few times, gently glided down to the hawk, and whispered to himself, "Waiting on the will of God."

Happy Thanksgiving

This little video skit was inspired by Bodhi's process of planting corn seeds in Karen's garden, watching them grow and harvesting them for Thanksgiving dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. We'll be posting more blog entries next week when Bodhi is back in school.

The Destination

Bubbles and a three year old are magical.

A few afternoons ago, Kim, Bodhi and I were out on our lawn area blowing bubbles.  The sun was setting, so the sky had that wonderful feel of oranges, pinks, blues and purples.  The clouds were thin and whispy and streaked with color.  The iridescent bubbles reflected the sky and the cabin as Bodhi ran after them in the tall grass.  It was early enough that the coqui frog hadn't come out yet, but the birds had already started to settle in for the night.  The only sound was our deep resonant wind chime blowing in the gentle breeze and the sound of Bodhi's feet rustling up the grass.  It was a splendid moment.

Kim and I have been having a few grass is greener conversations.  The conclusion Kim has come to is that the grass is greener wherever you water it.  Lucky for us it rains a lot here in Ola‘a.  The weather has been absolutely gorgeous for us.  We've had blue sunny skies that have been clear enough for us to see the tops of Mauna Kea everyday. And as we lay our heads on our pillows we're lulled to sleep with the patter of rain on the corrugated steel roof.  We wake every morning to a full catchement tank and another day of blue, blue skies.  I was telling Kim that I must be vibrating beauty, because I am seeing it all around me.

I've had a case of itchy feet with varying degrees of severity ever since I was a college student.  I went away for a awhile to study at SUNY Stonybrook in New York, and that is where I heard the call to the road.  The next thing I knew, I was on a flight to the UK to study at the University of London for a semester abroad.  A year later I spent a semester studying at the University of Copenhagen in Denmark.  Shortly after college, Kim and I got married and headed off to Japan to teach English.  Coming back to Hawai‘i from Japan for the last 11 years has been the longest time Kim and I have spent in one place.  We feel very committed to this place that we both call our childhood home.  But every once in awhile the road seems to call me with it's seductive pointer finger beckoning me to come out and play.  Maybe it's Portland.  Maybe it's Ashland.  Maybe it's the Bay Area.  Maybe Canada.  Maybe Australia.  Maybe Italy.  Maybe Paris.

For Mark Twain it was the Mississippi River and for Jack Kerouac it was the roadways of America that represented the feeling of unbounded freedom.  They represent the same thing for me.  The ability to get out of my normal routine and out of my sense of self is very appealing.  There is something freeing in the feeling of heading somewhere with the optimistic hope that it's better than here.

Kim and I are funny travelers.  When we go to a new place we tend to find ourselves going to cafes to sit, going to  nice restaurants to eat, or finding quiet places to read.  Basically, we tend to do the same things we do when we are here in Hawai‘i but in a new geographic location.  We are huge fans of the 90s TV series "Northern Exposure".   When the show was on regular TV we would watch it religiously and whenever the opening theme music would come on, we would get naked and dance around crazily in our living room.  By the final season a new doctor and his wife were introduced to the show.  They were the kind of people that every few years would move to a new place.  In one episode, they had the profound realization that whenever things got tough they would, "pack up the china."  That episode was meaningful to Kim and I.  We had, over the years, found that was our trend.  In some circles it's known as "pulling a geographic".  It's the idea that moving to a new place will somehow bring about a better life.  But the truth is, no matter where you move to, you will still be you and whatever luggage you bring along will follow you to the new location.

I think Kim is right in her realization that the grass is greener wherever you water it.  So what do we do about the itchy feet?  A few years ago, while we were on trip here from Honolulu.  We were standing on a bridge looking at this beautiful lagoon in Hilo.  We were talking about what we want in our life.  We came to the conclusion that our lives don't have to be an either/or proposition.  We don't have to choose either Hawai‘i or some other place.  It can be an and/both proposition.  We can live in Hawai‘i and Paris.  We can be both grounded and free.  I know, I know we tend to primarily go to cafes and restaurants when we are in a new place, but isn't it so much cooler to sip cafe at a Parisian cafe than to have a cup of coffee at Starbucks?  

Henry Miller once said, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."  We will water the grass here and allow our roots to grow deep with the knowingness that our only destination is to know ourselves.  We can take that knowingness with us wherever we go and enjoy whatever kind of wonderfulness this world has to offer.

Pictures

This is the back view of the cabin.  It has two bays for cars and tractor.  The stairs and floor of the "dinning deck" were built by Jim and Andrew.  The second floor is more of a formal living area.

Andrew also put in shelves for Bodhi's toys.  We painted the deck to, hopefully, protect it from the moisture that is all around us.

View of cabin kitchen from dinning table on deck. We bought a propane camping stove from Costco.  It works pretty well.  Andrew doesn't do a lot of oven cooking anyway--and we got rid of our microwave years ago---so really this is all we need.  We even do our toast on the open flame with this handy campers' toast gadget and heat some bath water nightly using our teakettle.  We bring in drinking water in 7 gallon blue containers.  You can see our cooler and our wonderful sink.

View from front entrance to 1st floor of cabin.  So we have a kitchen deck and then the dinning/Bodhi toy area deck.  And storage.

This is a marine grade cooler.  It takes 4 blocks of ice--if you didn't open it, it would stay cold for two weeks---but for us 4 blocks last us 7 days.

Front storage area and stairs leading up to the second floor.

Railings at the top of the stairs---Andrew built these so Bodhi wouldn't take to flying.  They look real nice!  One of his first projects by himself.

Upstairs Lanai view from the top of the stairs.  Andrew and Jim had put plywood up, instead of railings--to Bodhi proof the area.  It's very serene up there.

View of lanai from other direction.

French door entrance to main living area.  The upstairs room is surrounded by windows.

Kind of a living room/bedroom.  Very comfy.

Left side of room--if you were standing at the doors.

Right side view from doors.

Happy Bodhi---Loves his trains!

Kermit---the pet Chameleon--hangs out inside the bedroom every day.

Bodhi at front of cabin.

And that concludes the tour folks.  I know some had already seen these on facebook---but just in case you missed them, I thought I should repost.

Wouldn't it be nice if. . .

We must have been vibrating dog energy.

Where there were none, now there are two. It was about a week ago that Kim and I started talking about getting a dog. Our conversations about these things usually start with, "Wouldn't it be nice if . . .?". This time it went something like, "Wouldn't it be nice to have a dog for the land and for Bodhi?". Within a few days of posing this question, Mister Dog started appearing on the scene. Although he remains this phantom apparition that appears and disappears, he has definitely gotten more comfortable with us. I've had situations where I'm working on something and I look up, I see him standing in front of me, I look away for a second, he's gone, I turn around and he's standing behind me. It freaks me out sometimes. He's taken to being a troll living under our deck and seems to come out when he smells food cooking. Now to add to this, Bodhi's Godfather, Reverend Mark, calls Kim on Friday and asks if we're willing to take one of his dogs, Butch. Apparently, tiny little Butch has developed an appetite for Mark's neigbor's chickens and has come home with them in his mouth.

Kim and I have always been people to follow the flow of life and so it seems that the currents of the stream have brought us not one, but two dogs. Butch is one of those tiny little dogs that thinks he is a big dog. He's already gotten charged at Mister Dog to establish his role as the alpha male. I don't want to paint a picture of Butch being a vicious, chicken killing, mongrel. He is a sweet dog that gets so excited to see us when we get home, loves to hop into my lap when I'm sitting, and just loves, loves, loves to get rubbed down, scratched and petted.

We think Mister Dog will always be a shadow figure that comes around for a free meal and then goes off and lives his own life. That's okay with us, he's been gentle enough so far.

It's amazing what happens when you put your desires out and they mesh with your beliefs as to what is possible. Ten years ago, when Kim and I came to the Big Island for a cousins graduation, we fell in love with this place and asked ourselves, "Wouldn't it be nice to live here?". At that time we thought we would move to the Big Island in about three years. Three months later, however, we are running an ocean front bed and breakfast on the Big Island.

The bed and breakfast had a broken pool that was filling up with rain water. Kim saw this and said to me, "Wouldn't it be nice to have koi for the pool?". We didn't mention this to anyone, but a day later a friend calls and says,"Hey, I know a guy who has 30 koi he doesn't want anymore. You want them?". When our time as innkeepers was coming to an end, we took a drive around the island to take in some of the beautiful scenery this place has to offer. As we drove through Waimea, I looked at Kim and in a very matter of fact way asked, "Wouldn't it be nice to live here?". Within two months we were both working on a ranch on the upper road leading out of Waimea Town.

This formula of asking and receiving, that we learned from Reverend Mark and from the teachings of Abraham, has worked over and over again for us. It's really the process of focussing your desires on what is wanted over what is not wanted and then allowing your desires to flow into your life. The challenging part is the allowing, because this aspect of the formula deals with what you believe is possible. You may desire a million dollars, but if you don't believe it is possible to have it, it won't flow into your life.

So in this vast Universe what are we willing to believe is possible? Is it possible to believe that life supports us? Is it possible to believe that life flows as a constant stream of health, abundance and peace? Is it possible to believe that if we surrender to the flow of the stream, instead of fighting to swim against the current, that all our desires will come into our life?

Wouldn't it be nice to believe all these things and more are possible? Wouldn't it be nice if...