instinct- sound of the ocean soothes my restless soul- thanks Iz

The Intellectual

The intellectual is always showing off;
the lover is always getting lost.
The intellectual runs away, afraid of drowning;
the whole business of love is to drown in the sea.
Intellectuals plan their repose;
lovers are ashamed to rest.
The lover is always alone, even surrounded with people;
like water and oil, he remains apart.
The man who goes to the trouble
of giving advice to a lover
gets nothing. He's mocked by passion.
Love is like musk. It attracts attention.
Love is a tree, and lovers are its shade.

If I am anything I am instinctual. I haven't made a lot of regretful choices in life. I have gained insight out of every bad choice. My next choice involves relocation- or more like beginning a process of setting up dual locations. I don't know that I could ever give Maui up totally. I have passed through so many rites of passage here that it is a part of me. I inhale/exhale Maui wherever I find myself. I hear in the back ground Israel Kamakawiwo`ole's "White Sandy Beach in Hawaii" and his "Country Roads" brings me to tears every listen. This place has a network of roots growing inside me. They nourish me.

It's also time to put down new roots in familiar places, or unfamiliar places. Istanbul calls- continuously. Istanbul drove me to my graduate studies. Why is it that favorite places drive me to such grand decisions? I wonder when a lover will ever bring forth this desire- to uproot. Travel is my lover that is always with me. I am always warm at night, always underneath the shade tree of my lover, always walking the beach at sunset, or hiking up a mountain peak with my lover. With one kind touch I am set free. Free to wander, to roam the far reaches of the globe. So much treasure out there. What is dream & what is reality? Will I ever let go of this lover? Iz sings it so beautifully, "In this life I was loved by you"

Listening to Iz tonight is like the stubborn lover that has overstayed their welcome. Thoughts of departing from Maui are suddenly stunted as the root mass grows in size within myself. Sturdy, steadfast- anchoring its vines throughout my limbs so I don't forget- never to forget this place that has imprinted its lifeforce in my DNA. Maui is quite the selfish lover indeed. Squeezing out any other potential suitors that vie for a chance at my affections. If you love something enough to set it free it may come back to you...

The thing of it is that I am just not satisfied or satiated to travel for extended periods. I've traveled up to 5 months at a time on a regular basis searching for some sort of regularity in this. It's just not enough time. There is too much in this world. One thing I've noticed though about Hawaii is that it feels so remote. It's these country roads I seek out anywhere I go. The souk's of Morocco, the marketplace on Kos in the southern Greek islands off the Turkish Coast, the mountains of Andorra La Valle... Ruta 40 through Argentina's 7 lakes region, the Black Sea region of Bulgaria, the shores of the Bospherous, the northeast beaches of Brazil, Valdez, Alaska... Maui is always with me. It never strays far from my most heartfelt intimicies. We are soul mates. I feel fortunate.  I wonder if others share these feelings about where they choose to live. They must.

Sunday morning aloha o ka aina o maui no ka oi

I see the morning stars. Laying in bed listening to the surround sound rain- I can hear the bass pumping from the Mackies to the northeast. Falsetto is dripping down off the gutter to the west. Sounds like Uncle Richard Hoapi`i & brothers playing some slick slack key guitar. I want to soar above the clouds to see where the rainbows are hiding.

It's so easy to slip back into Maui life. Everything is so inviting. A rainy day spent in bed watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 4 is even inviting. That is not my destiny today though. My true destiny is to stay at home & study but sadly that is not going to happen. Why can't I focus this semester? I'm working less than 50 hours a week (phew!), I'm actually keeping my shack fairly clean & tidy, my diet is centered around fruits & veggies- What is it? Who is it? Is it words? Lack of words?

Lexical choices- this is interesting. It's what people say, or don't say, or stop saying. What motivates some people to just stop? Incommunicado. Poof I'm gone. Buhbye. Then there is texting. When does it go to an extreme? In my Language in Society linguistic class this summer one of my classmates observed text-etiquitte between males/females. She kept logs of her texts between male & female friends. She noticed a pattern (you guys know how much I love to identify, follow & try to figure out underlying meanings of patterns in cultural behavior I'm sure...) of female friends leaving long(er) texts regardless of urgency of message whereas her male textors, including suitors, left brief messages & sometimes down to 1 word. She considered this a fundamental difference between males & females.

I wasn't quite buying it but then I decided to do my own research & check out my logged texts... bingo pajama. Same same. Regardless if my textor was a male friend or a male partner, it showed the same results: my female friends left more in depth, personal messages consistently. This is fine in itself as I really enjoy the freedom of texting- the lack of immediacy in it. The message gets across, no one has to be disturbed if they don't want to, there is a record of sent texts so traceable. etc. So many benefits!?

Now as I explained this phenomenon to another classmate in NYC, she immediately wanted more information such as, "so do these minimalist textors call you though? I didn't answer right away as I had to consult my iPhone... I think I was kinda not looking forward to delving further in that conversation- no I know I wasn't going to enjoy it. The proof is in the pudding- or the iPhone log in this case...  She went on further to say that real spoken conversation was essential in addition to texts & that society is embracing this technology (of course- as it is useful), but we are robbing ourselves of some other, much needed on an esoteric, spiritual, sensual, primal level; stimuli of other senses. You know what? She is right on some level. We sit around on our computers (such as I am doing right now as I blog, skype w/Brazil & sift through FB chat to see if Debbie of Istanbul is online...) in these... these environments- not artificially constructed, but certainly manipulated, checking for messages in inboxes, or calls not taken & going to voicemail so we can react at an 'available' time. I do it, yes. Don't we all? But is it right? Is it right for our human-ness?

Are we becoming more human by embracing technology or less humane by readily using it?  As an example I think about cyber love letters. Words can describe beautiful things & we can conjure up exquisite images but we can't hear the words- as they were meant to be heard. Now that I think about it even a handwritten letter tells so much more about someone's feelings that they are trying to convey to the recipient: you see the words filling up the pages and can feel the other person at the other end of that pen/pencil. You can trace your finger over their words and it evokes response, emotions. What does onscreen fonts do? Well it does effectively convey a message, but not a very sensual one as I see it- or as I read it. I'm a very sensual, tactile, kinesthetic person. I need this. I know this. There is no substitution for human-ness, human contact, physical-ness.

So if lines of online communication suddenly stop what does this mean? Does it mean the same thing as when one stops receiving handwritten letters? Does it mean the same thing as when that certain ringtone you have set from that certain person stops chiming? Perhaps it means nothing. Perhaps it never was anything to become nothing. Is my friend right- do people hide behind their texts because life is full of superficialities in this modern world? Computers are cold, hard objects unable to emit emotions. Are people turning this way too? Is this our destiny? To become so remote & robotic & emotionally unresponsive.

Tough considerations for a country girl such as myself. This is why I need to be connected to the jungle. To the knowledge I receive from it. The emotions it provokes in me while roaming around my shack in the bewitching hour listening to critters. I even managed to find solace in listening to the rats come out at night while in NYC. I took pleasure that something- even so banal- evoked an emotional response in me as I took breaks from my computer & schoolwork. I tried so hard to keep it together over there and find some sort of nocturnal beauty that could temporarily distract me from the cyber-reality of the situation. Back here on Maui I listened to the toads as of recent. As I was coming up the driveway last night, in my headlights I could see all the toads hanging out in the rain. Made me happy.

Who am I kidding- I can't find emotions in a text? Not so far anyway. I've looked for it. I've wished for it- sure. But I haven't found it & I won't so I can just stop looking for it. The jungle prevents me from being so unresponsive. The beauty & grandeur of Maui is awesome and can bring tears to my eyes if I think deeply enough about it. As well I realize I cannot  provoke emotions from someone not wanting to be emotionally responsive. The more time I spend in the jungle the more I reflect on my classmates dismay over our conversation.

On the flip side though, I have doubts over the legitimacy. This entry is point in case. This is very emotional. My emotions are flowing as fast as my fingers can tap away on the keyboard. I believe I am communicating effectively what I wish to convey. Maybe the problem isn't the intrusion of technology after all. Maybe the underlying facet has to do with timing. With that thought I end this entry as the timing just isn't right to delve into this monster right now because now it's time to watch 1 last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer... I've decided I am complicated in the most uncomplicated of ways but not many seem to get it. It somehow gets lost in text/cyber translation...


5th time is a charm

Heading into the bewitching hour and needing to get this out of me. I've been pondering romantic relationships as of late- and of course that means self-analyzing mine. It's funny but I always refer to my most recent ex as my hex (pun intended). So it's strange, or uncanny, or quixotic? that he called tonight to chat. We talk like we never split up. We both know we did but... I don't know. Honestly we never talked about splitting up. I went to Istanbul, came back after many months gone and he moved to Jersey... We knew what it meant when I left, but... It was just some accepted thing, and this was fine. Some questions needed answering at different points in time but it was fine. Why is this? I mean I traveled the world with this man. We always had a great time. I guess I always knew he wasn't the right one, but the one for right now- that turned into many years. I suddenly thought, maybe I am his hex (no pun intended). Am I the one that bewitched him & never freaked out on him & never once in 4 years told him I was in love w/him? Is this the reason he can't let go in a sense? Is it because I always treated that relationship so casually that he is still attracted to our history? I think it is.

As I ponder this I remember back farther to my other romances, and by this I only consider 'the big ones' w/serious time invested & not just distractions. So ok 4. The first set the pace. I was so young & impressionable. Then came the introduction to yoga- and liberating my mind and the realization that I could have my own dreams & that I needed to have my own dreams & not just latch onto someone else's. I was an arm piece, knew it, was fine w/it for a while, then needed to rise above it. I was outta there so fast & on a plane to Hawaii soon afterwards. It never got ugly though. I just said I needed to go. I never wanted to take anything from him. I wanted a clean break- no struggles, no drama, no hate, no taking what wasn't mine to take. Years later I still hear from some of his friends who tell me that he always respected me for just letting go.

Next relationship ended w/another monumental rite of passage in my life- college graduation. That time as well I just needed out & needed to grow- on my own I told him. From him I learned to really understand the power of my mind & how I can rely on myself to make sound decisions... There was a certain element of my father in him for sure. He taught me to be independent- just like my father. To understand that other people couldn't make me happy unless I was first happy with myself. Such a valuable realization, yet one that seems to play itself out in my long-term relationships- lol. We soaked up the bohemian life of Maui together cruising around in VW Vans, late night gatherings conversing about the most esoteric topics in the universe & beyond, exploring the undersea life of this incredible island, and more. Oh, I never told this man I was in love w/him. He knew it, he didn't have to hear it. This has always been my thoughts on the subject. We still keep in touch.

So far it sounds like these influential men in my life has created a monster...

The next guy, well this was the one- the geologist. We knew we only had a set amount of time together. A year- he was not staying on Maui as he was only here for a job to raise $ to get to Chile. There was so much passion. As the time got closer for his departure, it just got more intense. Then the ideas of an afterlife of sorts popped up. It was a bittersweet day the day he left. He had another friend bring him to the airport. We both knew it would be too difficult. Soon thereafter I seriously considered selling everything & moving to Chile to be with him. I started the process, but after a while I stopped. I knew it just wasn't right as he had to go out & experience the world as per his original plans. I figured if you loved someone enough & let them go, they might come back...

After his worldly explorations we were back in contact & he wanted to come out to visit me again. It was a great reunion, & I saw it in his eyes, & it was in my eyes at first as well. By the end of his vacation he looked at me and he knew. He said, this is temporary right? We both knew it. Now this is the only man who has never kept in contact w/me. Again, no nasty partings, but no amicable lasting friendships either. This was the man who, our last days together (round 1), agreed that something really cool was developing... No need for words but they came anyway. This departure (round 2) though, that was it. I even tried to get ahold of him when I in turn left for Chile, w/another man, just to get in contact & the common denominator of Chile spurred interest in reviving the relationship into a friendship. Nope. Nothing. Years later a friend, who introduced us- who was his ex-girlfriend's best friend, told me he was married w/a kid & perhaps another on the way. I just always wondered why he never wanted to get in contact w/me- that's all. If anything, this is the man I think of- in terms of really having a relationship with- the kind I want to have again.

This brings us up to date w/the hex- the most current ex. You already read about him. There's more. There was a medical disaster. I was hated & loved simultaneously- told after the fact. Perhaps some scars incurred from this relationship- but not conventional scars. Scars, it seems, that bind us still. I told him once that if we didn't quit each other we would ruin any chances for normal relationships w/anyone else. That was close to 2 years ago & so far nothing to disrupt. Him though, he has someone else & I just feel badly for her. I shouldn't though. It's none of my business. He has assured me we can remain close. He is a good guy, just not, never, the right guy. I recently told him he was a much better friend than a boyfriend. I think he agrees.

Where does this all lead me? It's almost 1am & I'm listening to the rain outside. It sounds so sensual. I'm thinking I'd like to listen to it w/a #5... When are dress rehearsals going to be over! Why am I so complicated? I always considered myself low maintenance- lol



I've started a new pattern, or ritual, since I've returned to the Island & new shack: Once at home after work I take my organics from the day before that have been left generating gases all day long and bring it up to the compost pile to mix in w/the rest of the community's. Today the wolf dog that loves to sleep underneath my truck and is always agitated when I need to use my truck & trots off like it is such an imposition or disruption in his schedule was perched on top the grassy knoll nestled between 2 of the hens. He just looked up at me as if to acknowledge that yes, he is warming up to me. I moved on from the composting to the banana patch and picked a few to cover my potassium needs for the next 24 hours, then skipped off to the edge of the gulch where the avocado tree is... 4 freshly dropped on the ground for me. Oh the guacamole I made tonight... As I made my way back to the shack I looked at the lilikoi vine swollen with ripening fruits too young to pick yet. Now the limes are going off though but sadly no margaritas were on the agenda for the evening.

The nights are so quiet here- time passing so unobtrusively. Many times it's 2 am before I realize that I need to be up in 4 hours. I've grown so accustomed to this pattern that I don't seem to mind too terribly when my iPhone starts barking @ 6am to get up & outta the house in 20 minutes. I've actually come to appreciate the pressure of the situation & prevail. It is a mindgame I suppose- kinda like chess. It makes sleeping in on the weekends til 10 so rewarding.

Speaking of chess, partners are springing up in the most fanciful of places. I'm looking forward to strategizing & seeking out new patterns. I think one can learn a lot about a person through a chess match. I almost feel it should be a prerequisite for dating someone... I don't know- I'm still developing this theory.

Another pattern I've grown quite attached to is to do a tarot reading w/my Aleister Crowley Thoth deck when I need to delve deeper into a situation that somehow concerns myself as a way to bring in some new acknowledgment that has been overlooked or not even focused on, or covertly rejected while seemingly ignorant. The card of the evening: Knight of Cups- fire in water & trying to balance out. I'm going with sentimental obtrusiveness here... That is all there is to say about this matter. I'll keep my thoughts superficial here- as w/the underlying meaning of the card in context.

That's enough introspection for the evening. I'm going to break my pattern of sleep deprivation & check out now.


New Moon reveals bittersweet truths

Sometimes plans fall through. Today was such a time. More like today was an extension of last night where all that was right was wrong- which turned out to be right. This is good. There are other thoughts that float past leading to another path- one which I'm not so confident about understanding, or accepting.

Most times I reflect & feel so fortunate that my father taught, without overtly teaching, me to be so independent & forward thinking. Why do I suddenly feel it necessary to consider the counter-experience? Why does the new moon reveal such bittersweet truths this moon phase? Why is Norah Jones' "turn me on" playing in the background? The starry sky tonight driving home from Kihei seems somehow a reminder- mocking me. All the stars laid witness to my thoughts.. listening while the night breeze cloaked me into a crisp realization that all is not what it seems.

The bewitching hours, once again. It's always this time of night where life always strikes me as being most enriched. I always enjoy listening to Chaka Khan in these moments. That's one beautiful sister. Why do my father's words ring true? Why do Chaka's songs sting so much sometimes? The weight of this knowledge crushes my lungs right now. Why is there no rain tonight to drown out the sounds of the stars beckoning me outside to ponder their brilliance? Luring me w/their luminescent charms- I'll have none of it tonight because this new moon, this new moon feels distant & unresponsive- or perhaps actually more responsive in its unresponsiveness that it screams truths to me- bittersweet truths.


my version of Groundhog Day: 8/28/09

What is it- that feeling you feel when you step off an airplane to a place you haven’t seen for many months and you call home? Arriving home from an extended journey used to be so bittersweet for me and I suppose it still is: Maui No Ka Oi. Translated to Standard American English (SAE) from Hawaiian that’s Maui is the best. Translated from SAE to Hawaiian Creole English that’s Maui stay ono. (ono = delicious). Bittersweet because it is incredible; beautiful shades/textures of sandy beaches, streams, waterfalls, jungles, hiking and… and… beauty every step of the way. I have an incredible career here that keeps me stimulated within the scientific community. Great friends, endless outdoor activity: the intimacy of knowing a place, really knowing a place. Knowing that I can arrive back on isle without a place to live, without my car, without much money, still spaced out from an 11-hour journey by air back in time (6 hours back in time BTW), and just needing to chill out. That’s the sweet part. The so-termed bitter is that I know I need more. I always have. I have always had to travel for extended periods of time. To escape this fantasy island & experience the grittiness of another expression of life- a more common expression for most people. Seasons are so subtle here. Most can’t recognize but my body is tuned in to Maui’s frequency. The sky was light, vibrant blue with huge extremely dazzling white cottonball clouds marching like saints down the SE side of Haleakala’s slope into the sea and across to Kahoolawe Island looming in the distance as a once fading and now renaissance=like symbolic image of the steadfastness of the Hawaiian people stemming back to ancient times. A constant reminder of how things could still be… The sun was low on the horizon even though it was late afternoon. I could just tell, that’s all, that the last days of summer were already set into motion.

My heart sings. Pre-sunrise in the jungle: heavy rain downpours turning into lighter spasms of intermittent showers, the sudden cacophony of birds chirping- I can hear 4 separate songs as I type. My return to Maui has met all expectations indeed. A good friend, who took me under her wing and let me stay at her place until my new shack was available, greeted me at the airport. She drove me around and listened to my ranting about my time in NYC First thing post airport pick-up she carted me off to Baldwin Beach so I could jump in the water and we could walk the most beautiful stretch- well certainly the most meaningful stretch of beach for me as I have gone through so much on this beach. Every emotion possible has been encountered at this beach. My first impression was that summer storm damage eroded the sand away again this year down at the cove. Sighting the trees fallen onto the sand and buried in water since last season and now exposed w/their mossy green brilliance sagging off them as Dali’ clocks/images hung dreamlessly off objects within a Catalan landscape. With the late afternoon sun, the whitecaps on the seas in the distance creeping closer to the shoreline and a graveyard of fallen pine trees tossed along the shoreline like one’s dirty laundry at the foot of the washing machine, a lone fisherman casting his ulus pole from the waters edge, the lifequard on a sunset run for one last check over, Maui life was picturesque in that moment. As we walked the shoreline my toes found themselves strenuously crushing deeper into the sand, down to the moist, cool to touch coarse-grained granules that massaged my feet- who were so exposed to the entirety of NYC this summer and so graciously took me everywhere in those 5 boroughs and now they felt rejoiced, reinvigorated, regenerated.

We spoke of our summer highlights, lowlights, and the typical streamlining down the middle of the road everyday occurrences that carries us all through the largest chunks of our lives. She was on the high of starting a new job with another company- who I had once worked for. I listened & was genuinely happy for her. As well as she stimulated renewed interest in archaeology for myself as well. Now I was looking forward to returning to work come Monday. All those long, arduous hours spent under the sun that threatens to invade any exposed area of your body, all the sand spitting back at you in the dunes when the trades are blowing incessantly, the miles of thorny brush you have to hike through and hack away at w/machetes during surveys as well as all the resulting cuts & bruises- the hours of mapping sites- just all of the bounty that archaeology offers!

I relived NYC stories- all incredible moments experienced. School had empowered me to yet a higher degree. I can’t help it, I am one of ‘those’ people who has always enjoyed what academia can provide if you let it- or ‘get’ it more accurately- not just go through the motions of ‘going to school’ but really get off on the challenge of studying theories, and coming up with your own interpretations, and then can challenge prevailing theories- not to be right or wrong, but to succinctly state & support a hypothesis to be refuted, revised or simply revealed. I do love this regardless of if in school or not, but to just challenge myself continually and see what I can come up with- this drives me.

We both had tales of lost loves and new lovers. She always looking for love, or imagining love more so. Every encounter is an optimistic possibility. Myself, ever the scientist, I look at the picture as a whole and break it down into individual components immediately. So exciting to delve into the mysteries of love/lust through scientific knowledge- this is my high. I am hopeless as I know right off if time is going to be invested- real intimate time. I’ve never been one to ‘date’ casually. The anthropologist in me sees contact as something primal and instinctual & it should just be allowed to develop on its own course with as little interference/words as possible to disrupt the vibration that should be developing & most often drowned out by sounds & words that just add confusion. Of course this means that body language must be meaningful & truthful- not always the case. I watch cats and when meeting a cat for the first time… it either comes up to you or it doesn’t. You meet eyes and lock into each other. It is that initial encounter that explains a lot of how a cat thinks. It doesn’t necessarily need a pet, or want a pet from just anybody. It senses first. If it is a sudden introduction, well I guess I’m saying I’m a bit like this cat.

Ok sidetracked. Maui, like anywhere, has its pros/cons. Right now I am riding the wave high on the crest of the developing wave just before getting tubed. The elusive O. It’s a great state of mind. I’ve seen stars, rainbows, afternoon showers, sunrises, sunsets… I didn’t see any of these things in NYC except rain showers. My body sensed this disharmony & even though it was obscured by all there is offered up to do in that incredible city, by day and into the night, it is these essential elements that make my body sing.

My new shack & myself are introducing ‘ourselves’ to each other. It is like a living entity in that I need to become intimate with all my environments. I am starting to make it ‘mine’. I saw a moonbow last night inbetween squalls. I am looking out into thickets of bamboo and ferns & wild gingers & just too much to individually rattle off but the desired effect has been achieved- my mind is blown. All this lushness- there is a sensual beauty of being a solo witness to the rush of feeling a breeze walk through and reach out and touch your arm so the hairs briefly react to the touch, but there is also pleasure to be had experiencing this w/a lover and I’m thinking that is exactly what’s missing from this scene this fine Thursday morning as I prepare to get up & greet the day…