The Big Island of Hawaii called to me like no other place has in my entire life. My life in Portland was not all I had dreamed (probably because I hadn't dreamed anything but rather stumbled in and fell down) and I yearned for something different, but what? I longed to feel okay, not even happy, but okay. In Portland I felt as though I was spinning my wheels, I was stuck with my tiny house, 75% finished, unable to move. Any job I got felt like a drag and a waste of time. My volunteering felt similarly useless, fighting against a machine too big to notice, hardly making a dent. Surely I developed relationships with some amazing individuals and had some really fun times in P-Town, but something didn't feel right, my spirit wasn't happy.
So every so often I would surrender an ask for guidance, from the universe, from source, from "god" (I don't like that word much, too much implication of an old white man with a beard vs. a collection of consciousness) but whenever I would ask the feedback would be swift and it was all Hawaii. Whether it was bumper stickers of the islands, Hawaii license plates (like seriously, how often do you see that?) or the guy at Home Depot who I was asking about plumbing fixtures who randomly started into a story, "When I was living in Hawaii..." This not to mention that before I settled in Portland to make a tiny house I felt this call to come to Hawaii, but I opted to try and build a small little safe sacred space to curl up in, versus continuing the adventure and embracing the unknown and all the change that it brings.
So after many miserable mornings in my partially finished home, dreading the moment I'd have to get out of bed, I decided to at least check-in with this Hawaii idea. So on my computer I typed into Google exactly what I would want from the Big Island (for that's the island I felt most called to), the search terms were "Organic, spiritual, permaculture farm, Big Island" The first post on Google was for the Malama Ka'aina Farm also known as the Kohala Sanctuary. A piece of land owned by Joel and Michelle Levey, psuedo-famous meditation teachers on the forefront of mindfulness and consciousness research and learning. As I read about them and the place I was enthralled! It was so perfect! Yet as I clicked the link and started writing them an email to see if I could come work trade on their land, I felt the old despair come through saying, "This isn't it." So I discarded the email and continued my Portland emo-mope.
Spirit had other plans for me. Two weeks later I was at a magical festival called Beloved, a sacred art and musical festival on the Oregon Coast. As I was gallivanting among all the conscious, lovely people I was introduced to Yoav, who happened to be the caretaker of the Kohala Sanctuary, the very land I was considering only weeks before! I was dumbfounded and in a wonderous state of shock and awe. I told him about how I had been looking at the website for the Sanctuary only weeks prior and thinking of coming. At that moment he kindly invited me on the land for a week trial. Manifestation can be a funny thing but when synchronicity smacks you in the face it's best not to ignore it's call.
To put the icing on the cake of synchronicity, right after the festival my friend Ra and I were searching for a place to be and he suggested we go to Southern Oregon. He had met a sacred sister at the festival and she invited us to the land she was staying on, the Seven Seeds Farm, an amazing permaculture + biodynamic farm owned by Don Tipping (that was an amazing time filled with eating too many plums, tree houses, redwoods and fairies, but that's another story altogether). This sister was named Sacha, and the crazy part was that she had JUST come back from living on the Big Island at the Kohala Sanctuary with Yoav. Wow, this sealed the deal for me (I know, I kind of need a forehand slap in the face and then a backhand ;). I decided to commit to Hawaii, sell everything that was no longer serving me (car, bike, clothes, gear) and fly to the middle of the Pacific.
Now I've been here for 8-months, with a small stint on the mainland for Grandma's passing. My time here has been deeply healing and opening and continues to be so. While I love it here and I cherish the people and community that has formed, I find myself wondering what's next, I'm open to the possibility, to the unknown, and I welcome it with patient understanding.
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