Today was a whirlwind.
I woke up early and went to a yoga studio at a retreat center near-by my house. The people were good, it was cheap, and I felt like I understood why it was so important for me to go to yoga every day in April. It was like my future self, my NOW self, reach out through time to me then and said: "a commitment to this community and to this practice is gonna come in handy real soon, why don't you get started now?" I loved every minute of it. It felt for the first time like there were people around me I could get to know, like, and enjoy (other than Luanna). So, I'll be doing that from now on.
I came home in a huge high from that experience, feeling like the settling in period was happening, slowly maybe, but I was getting the hang of it...
When I received an email from Mikaya saying my cabin had been rented and I'll need to move out of it and into the smaller one up the hill in 10-days. This was pretty devastating.
There is A LOT wrong with the smaller cabin, the short list (and by no means the complete lists) is:
- No attached bathroom or shower
- No kitchen (fridge + stove) but there is a cooler...
- Fire ants infesting the bed.
- 1/4 the size but without all of its walls attached so mosquitos come right on it.
It's a lot to wrap your mind around living in.
But, this is another one of those 'lessons taught by Hawaii'. You can't hold on to things here, everything is temporary, everything is fluid. The people whose houses are being rundown by the volcano have ALL said to me, "well, our land is on loan from Pele." They don't take it personally, they adjust. So I too must learn the lesson when trying to make a space for yourself here, it's necessary to be flexible and move sometimes.
And, in another 10-days I'll come up here to this cabin. I'll resettle in, clean it up, I'll have fixed the ant problem (!!), and get it looking good for myself. Another challenge.
Heartsick over the news of having to move, Luanna and I skipped work and went to the beach so it could work its magic on my soul. It recentered and aligned me, got me feeling ok about being here again. It made me realize how happy I am that there is a place nearby now that has warm water, black sands, and blue skies.
Every minute here, anything can happen. The days feel long and eventful even when they're simple like this because so much is changing and moving every second of every day. My mind goes a million miles an hour feeling deeply into "why" for everything I'm experiencing like a 3-year old, but I know it's good for me. I can feel its shifting and changing in my soul.
"You're here because you aren't there" is the official-unofficial slogan of Pahoa, which just feels like one of those classic jokes the universe plays on you when you ask yourself the same question too many times hoping for different answers.