so on we float

☁️feeling you Nalo☁️ Wept and wept and wept today. Right here. At Waimanalo. Sandy. Sloppy. Tears flowing. Raw and pounding. All pouring out from a calm, centered, and sacred place. A protected place. My heart, wide open.

This was to be our first trip together, as three, with Callum. There were few things I attached to as steadily as the anticipation of introducing our baby to our other home. I dreamt of our first experience, how different it would be from all the other times, the depth it would bring. Dreamt of carrying baby to the forest, to the ocean, to our family, and to our loveliest love. Wow wow wow, how shit shifts. So many things to mourn.

So, on our aloha day, I sat here and wept. I asked for the pain to bring the lessons. I asked for alchemization and manifestation. Not easy, but nothing about losing our baby has been easy. I asked my guides to remind me more often why this happened. To help me refocus. And then through the tears, with @brandon.of.bjerke by my side, I looked out to the ocean to see a sea turtle floating right in front of us.

Our aumakua responding with just perfect timing 👌 A perfect moment for us to see how beautiful it is to allow yourself to be taken by the waves of life. See, no matter the seas, these turtles just chill. The lesson is: everything will be okay with time. The waves will calm. The clouds will part. You will build your strength under the sun and be ready for another adventure in deep diving. But for now...just float.

So on we float 🌊

rainbow reminder

🌈rainbow love: Admittedly, yesterday was a complicated day for @brandon.of.bjerke and I.

We were beyond emotional-- mega prickly as soon as we woke up, growing more irritated as the day rolled along. Our plans refused to come together-- either because of rain or circumstances beyond our control. We had a couple disagreements-- some more contentious than others, but totally destabilizing nonetheless. It was just one of those days that we were unable to get in sync and find our balance. Nobody's favorite.

We got pushed onto the Likelike Hwy after another set of plans failed to materialize. Sitting in traffic and totally pissed that we were going further into rain, we saw this magical gem peaking through. The lowest rainbow we've ever seen. It went beyond 180 degrees! It was a full double. And it was brilliant.

We turned off the Hwy and hung with this beauty for a while. Shifted our perspective a bit and opened our hearts to some natural majesty. Opened us up to what was weighing heavy on our hearts and we got a much needed fight out of our system.

All of the complications and beauty were teaching us to be more present with each other and what's around us. It gave me a renewed respect, perspective, and optimism for those weird days when all your shit falls apart.

Reminder: don't be afraid to let it pour, rainbows are just around the corner🌈

six months

🕊six months🕊

How do we measure time?

It used to be linear. It used to be goal oriented. It used to be a major effort-- something we tended to day after day. Always working toward something just slightly out of reach, like a to-do list that incessantly rolls into the next day. The baggage is the not measuring up, the not being enough, the not having time for the actual moments of importance. Measuring our time by our "progress". Point A to Point B. Over and over and over.

Six months ago all that was undone.

Today we find ourselves sitting at our favorite spot, unwinding the twists. Listening to the song of the ocean. Warming our bodies under the high sun. Allowing the wind to soothe our hearts. We ask ourselves, after these six months: "What does progress mean now? Do we even value it? How can we create goals when life has it's own rhythms and channels and purpose? Is goal creation antithetical to the ways of journeying?" Time and progress have become cyclical to us. A vast unfolding and refolding. Time and progress layering on top of each other like wormholes and points of entry into the new, the old, and the unfathomable. We are all walking the Great Labyrinth. Every step has become poetic and in balance, but as long as you trust the path in front of you.

We are happy to celebrate and laugh and cry and mourn Callum today. Thank you sweet baby for all the blessings that have come from your time with us, your death, and your life on the other side.

my moon

the moon, my man, and me: 2017

Holding conference under this big illuminated sky. Fireworks popping and echoing throughout the valley. The moon playing peek-a-boo with us and the clouds.

She reminds us of what we've lost. She reminds us of what we've gained. The places we've welcomed in and the places we've put to rest. We are in service of her. Held in her warmth and her glow, we are the stars under her spotlight. We honor what power she has and what power she stirs. Beastly beings, wild wombs, longing lovers.

Breathing her in and r e a c h i n g myself up-up-up. Trying to touch her rays, to become one with her magic, I am reminded of our journey together this year. Six moons ago I sat on our back deck bathed in her brightness. The wolf in me baying to her. Breathing out every intense contraction into her vast empty. Just waiting for our son to make his earthly appearance. Feeling close to her. Feeling close to him. Feeling protected by it all. Thinking it was just perfection.

The next morning he was gone.

I felt her wildness. I felt her sting. I felt her betrayal. I have been in recovery ever since-- teaching myself to trust her again, to feel warmed by her again, to soften enough to be held in her sacred embrace. The Mother of all Mothers.

Tonight the message that came through was that of indifference. A deep ancestral knowing. Here is our place: this is the way for us all. We live. We die. Their flow always hand in hand. Two lovers dancing into eternity. You can't have one without the other. The darkness of the new and the light of the full.

So we're entering 2018 with our full faces shining bright for all to see. Toes still dipped in our pain. Our hearts remain light. Our minds remain clear. We are grateful for it all.