Goodbye Maui

Aloha Maui!

The plane starts to slow. I look out my window to the flat ground below. It is Maui. As the pilot prepares for landing my eyes scan the streets, the buildings, the symbols that mean I am home. I drink them in for reassurance and I say their names in my mouth and hold them there, savoring the flavor of what was once strange but is now familiar. "Puunenne, Kihei, Haleakala."

Each second brings us closer and I am almost crawling out the window to get next to the island, to feel the wind that ravages the palms on my skin, to let the moisture fill up my veins and calm my anxious soul.

I step off the plane and all is at peace. It's raining and cloudy but warm and inviting. I get into my car and take the back roads from the airport to Paia. Driving through cane fields I try to remember what it was like the first time I drove this stretch of road. When did I stop noticing the cane fields? When did it all become second nature that I didn't have to think of when to turn, when to change gear, when to brake?

And now my bags are packed.
I am ready to go. No, that is not true.
There is so much left unexplored. I look back at all the adventures and people and I think "Wait, I can't leave! I haven't even met Willie Nelson!"

I may not be ready to leave but Molokai is ready to have me.

My car is currently sailing across the ocean towards a little piece of land I like to call Last Chance Paradise… or better known as the island of Molokai. I sit in my room, walls blank except for a few nails. It looks like Whoville after the Grinch was done with it.

Yes folks, I am leaving my beloved Maui. After 9 months the time has come to journey onto new adventures, time to meet some new characters and conquer a few more challenges and boy do I have some coming…

But it is not without great amounts of sadness and longing do I leave my island.
I won't say goodbye to Maui. I will only say Aloha.

Official Casselle on Maui Blog will now be deported to the mysterious island of Molokai
Please check out themolokaijournals.blogspot.com for more details.

Thank you for reading,

much love,

Casselle

Island of Misfit Toys

I am hoping that you all have seen the Christmas television special where Rudolph finds the Island of Misfit toys. For those of you who have been living in a cave for the past 50 years and are not aware of this iconic classic let me bring you up to speed.

Rudolph, the red nosed you-know-what, finds himself on a remote island occupied by the world's dejected, unwanted, and unusual toys. They are a sad bunch of characters who due to some defects both obvious (a train with square wheels), an elephant with polka dots and not so obvious (A dolly for Sue?) could never quite fit into the social standards that the greater toy world demanded. Thus they banded together, maladies and all, to form a tribe of misfits.

(Do you know where I am going with this?
I bet you do!)

I think I have found this said island.
It's called Maui.
And I am worried.
I am worried because I think I fit right in.

To be described as a misfit one must possess a certain amount of social deformities that make them unsuitable for mainstream, mainland consumption. These could range anywhere from a serious inability to conform (ie: hold down a job, pay rent, do your taxes) to less serious maladies such as wanting to surf all day, to dream bigger than the box they were born in, or a serious need to avoid boredom.

I picture us at the harbor being pushed out of our toy crates and falling onto the beaches of Maui. The boat captain waves goodbye as the ship pulls away and we glance at each other, wondering which one is the train with the square wheels and who is the Charlie-in the-box.

On my drives through the little town of Paia I can tell when new shipment comes in. The streets become full of them. They wonder around starry eyed, lost yet hopeful, before finding their way to the beach to sleep or to a store to apply for a job. Our intentions are all different and our actions when we arrive separate us. The one thing that keeps us same is that we all came from a place where we didn't quite fit.

I often ask too many questions of people in my life. I can't turn off my curiosity and friends often complain that within 5 minutes I know everything about them and they know nothing about me. Through these conversations I have learned that behind every cool surfer dude, accomplished professional, homeless beach bum, party girl, or terminal dreamer their lies a misfit toy, someone who grew up feeling a little off, someone who was unable to change their square wheels into circles, unable to get rid of their polka dots.

At the grocery store in town I spoke to some length with my cashier about this cast of characters that stroll through the checkout. He said it was strange one day when he realized he was not just an observer of these strange people, that he was actually one of them.

I saw him later on the street playing a flute. He was a caboose with some square wheels. An even though he couldn't see them he knew I was ill covered with polka dots. We smiled silently. We smiled because we knew we were in the right place.

"It is what it is"

As my eyes fill with tears I look at Wayne and ask him "Why do cars have to break?"
He peers at with me through blood shot eyes that speak of too many sleepless nights and says "Why do humans have to break?" He returns to calculating my most recent car bill, stops, turns back to my now tear-drenched face and shakes his head, "It is what it is," he says.

If Wayne, my trusted auto mechanic, was trying to put things into perspective for me, well, he did.

There are few things we can be sure of in this life.
One thing that I am sure of, that I know for certain, is that all things breakdown and die. People die, animals die, the plants die, cultures die, nations crumble, love dissipates, stars implode, and yes, it is most assuredly true, that even CARS age, break and die.

So then why, I ask you, am I so completely SHOCKED every time it happens?

I am currently reading a book on meditation. In this book the author goes through the ancient steps of meditators from the time of Buddha. He reports that back in the day one of the most highly used and practiced meditation objects was that of a dead body. What better way to practice non-attachment than to watch the human corpse slowly decay, day after day? It turns out in old India there were a lot of these said corpses. These things were like Starbucks, you couldn’t pass a corner without running into one.

I am not ready, nor able, nor willing, to stomach this most assuredly beneficial spiritual practice. I am, however, ready to practice some acceptance of (in the words of the great and powerful Wayne) "What It Is."

In the world we live in (our western world) we are very much removed from the What-it-is-ness of the world. (And for the purpose of this dialogue I refer to "is-ness" as all that dies, all that crumbles and withers and breaks and falls apart.) We have developed clever systems of taking all that messy is-ness and hiding it away, out of sight and out of mind.

It is a very magical world we have created. I take my trash to the curb and a wizard of the night swoops it up into the ether before I wake the next morning. (Actually he is a very loud wizard who usually causes quite a raucous). I don't know where it goes, it is just gone. Out of sight.

When someone dies they quickly place the body in a bag and hide it away from the world. Where do all those dead bodies go? Out of sight.

I would also like to say something about the buildings and objects around us. All that we see is so new and shiny. Our world is built in such a way that when something breaks or grows old we can just go and buy, or build a new one. "Don't suffer, don't be sad" our culture tells us, "Just look at this new shiny shiny."
I am reminded of my work with young children. A three-year-old's doting parents, in the effort to keep the child happy, continually supply it with new sparkly plastic objects. If one breaks they quickly distract the toddler, before he even realizes that his toy is broken, by bringing his attention to this new toy.

Or what about the bait and switch schemes invented by parents in order to deal with the "dead pet" reality. I still remember coming home from a vacation to find my hamster had changed the color of its eyes. I didn't know hamsters could do that. Turns out that they can't.

My mother finally confessed to me months later that my beloved "Squeakers" was a fake and a phony. The real Squeakers had died while I was at summer camp. My mother, unable to broach the topic of death, unable to explain the one true reality of the world, unable to allow her daughter to suffer the cruel nature that is our life, opted to do what so much of us do… cover it up, distract, buy a new and improved model.

(Sub note: I was really sad when my mom told me the truth. Not because Squeakers had died, mind you. I was upset that my mother had bought me another freakin' hamster. I had been secretly hoping that Squeakie would find a way out of my life so that I would not have to clean his stinking cage anymore.)

We live in a world that attempts to cover up what really is. We live in a society that is constantly distracting us with the new shiny shiny. We are raised by well meaning parents who in their attempts to make us happy have robbed us of the much needed practice of grieving, suffering and understanding that all that is will one day break apart and die.

We are then shocked, bowled over, left comatose when we have to face, to actually look upon the decaying car, body, pet, nation, in front of us.

I am in no way wanting to be a Negative Nancy here.
It is not my intent for us all to start staring at corpses all day, wearing black and talking about the end of days.

I just think that if we were able to accept a little more of this messy "is-ness" in the world we might be surprised about how freeing and joyful our lives could be. If I could accept the fact that my car will most decidedly break and die, I wouldn't be so flabbergasted, such an emotional wreck, every time it does. Maybe I could then avoid another sobbing-spree in front of Wayne and the other boys down there at Royal Hawaiian Auto.

I appreciate Wayne. I appreciate his wisdom and experience.
And I appreciate his consistent patience with me as I struggle to accept not only my car's mortality but the mortality of all that surrounds me. It is a wise lesson learned.
And it only cost $766.86. Shiny Shiny!!!

Manifestation Island

Manifestation Island

They call Maui the Manifestation Island.
Those who have manifested their way here profess an intense ability to create what they intend.
As one of those (how should I call us)… "Manifesterians" I must agree that there does seem to be some sort of special energy that accumulates here on the Valley Isle that makes dreams more achievable than not.
And though I have complete faith in the simple power of thought I don't hesitate to bring a little mumbo-jumbo to the manifesting process.

We have here in our living room, one Menehune hat. It is a palm frawn hat that has no connection to the Menehune people at all except for that we have named it such. From it dangles a palm frawned bird that bounces around as you spin. And spin you do, three times in fact, as you do a Menehune dance and state your intention.
My roommate and I gather together and incant such beautiful dreams that hours, days, or weeks later come to fruition before our very eyes.
Sometimes we wish we would have been a little more specific with our intentions. (It's great to have a next door neighbor who is a cook but we should have made sure that he realized he was to be cooking for us).
Never the less, we feel pretty powerful in our ability to bring whatever it is we dream of into our waking life.

Now that the New Year has begun many of us, you included I am sure, have begun to make New Year's Resolutions. This may be a list of do's and dont's for some or a slue of intentions to bring to fruition for 2010.

My roommates and I have been very busy creating our "Intentions for 2010" Manifestation Boards. Hanging now in each of our rooms are beautiful collages, individual to each, comprised of our wishes, hopes and desires of which we will be working on for the next 300 and some days. Ann has already made two of her goals and I am sure Lindsay will advance quickly. They are both clear headed women whose manifestation power is unparalleled.

I, on the other hand, am steadily falling behind. Each morning I wake and turn my head to the right to look at the colorful collage that hangs above my dresser. In the crisp rays of sun that shine through the blinds I read the words that make up my board: "Thanksgiving," "breathing," "high on the hogs," "Become," "Best life," "The Value of." In between these words are pictures of very comfortable beds, an organized linen cabinet, and a little girl chasing pigs around on a farm.

Can you guess what I am manifesting for 2010?
Once you figure it out would you please let me know because I don't have a freakin' clue.
Every morning I stare at the darn thing and get more and more confused.
I do enjoy looking at it. It sooths me. And yet I don't feel any grand manifestations coming out of it.

Truth is… I don't know if I have so many grand manifestations in me. Maybe that's why my board is such a mess.

No, the truth is this: "Can I get a break for a bit?"
I have been on a manifestion marathon for over a year now. All these things that I thought impossible, all these dreams I thought unachievable have arrived and now you know what I want to do?

I will tell you what I don't want to do: I don't want to spend another year asking and getting and then asking for more and then getting and then asking for more and then getting and then... well, you get the picture right?

This year I would like to have a funeral for all my best intentions, dreams, wishes and hopes. This year I would simply like to bask in the gloriousness that is my creation. I would like to make a board not of the things I want to happen but a board of all I have accomplished thus far. Every morning I will wake up and turn my head to a collage of all that I am, all of my successes, all my manifested intentions.

The Menehune Hat has been put away for the season. Universe, please put a hold on the new bed and pig farm. This Manifestarian is on sabbatical!

Car Karma, Jellyfish, Centipedes and other signs that make me think: "Is the Island Testing Me?"

I can't tell you how many people have told me "This island will test you. It will let you know if it doesn't want you here. It will chew you up and spit you out."

I always picture Tom Hanks from Joe vs. the Volcano as he and Meg Ryan are hurled out of the Volcano and land unscathed in the ocean along with their disaster resistant luggage. Some locals say that the island, just as the Volcano from the movie, decides who will stay or go… but I don't see it that way.

I enjoy the idea that there is this personified "Maui God" that either embraces you into the folds of his palm trees and sandy beaches or rains down a plague of cane dust and centipedes but I can't quite swallow it. I have always had trouble leaving all the control of my life in the hands of a mythical creature.

The reality is that a lot of people come to Maui and find out that paradise is not all it is cracked up to be. They don't get launched off the island by a fire breathing mountain but the effect is similar. Truth be told, this island will test you and how you handle those challenges is whether or not you will stay.

For me, it is all about how you story the challenges in your life that make up your success. We can play the victim to circumstances. We can say "it's not meant to be." We can get angry. We can say "it's not fair" and we can let the tides, the wind, the stinging tentacles of jellyfish decide our life path.

We also have the ability, a chance, to look at that which challenges us as part of our own master plan to become stronger, healthier, more connected to all that is human beings.

I think there are many people who would come to Maui, have my experience and be on the first plane home. Some of you may know my issues with "Car Drama." It has felt like an uphill battle since the beginning. I bought a car that died, I revived it, and it died again. I basically give the old heap of medal to a friend and the car somehow magically rebuilds itself. It is uncanny. Then just as I am walking out to my newer car, thanking my lucky stars to have a decent working vehicle, I see someone has smashed in my window. What? I could story these incidents many ways. I could say that the glorious Maui God has decided that I should go back to the mainland. I could say that the island is testing me and I obviously don't have what it takes. I could also choke it up to "Car Karma." Maybe I was a used car dealer in my past life and made some shady dealings and now I have to pay. Sucks!

I am not going to story it those ways. I like finding a story that gives fair responsibility to all parties but also brings me into some new awareness for myself and gives me a feeling of growth. My car drama-karma has been frustrating to say the least. But through it I have found that I can pull through these things. Sometimes you need to be knocked on your ass a few times before you can get up to see how strong you really are.

When my last incident with the car happened I felt an over-all sense of well being. It came from knowing that whatever comes my way I know how to get through it. It has been a costly lesson (don't even get me started) but one in which I am willing to pay. When I ran into the jellyfish on my surfboard I thought; "Yes! Thank you. This is scary but now I know that I can survive this too!"

The island will test you. I have now been stung by jellyfish, bruised by surfboards, yelled at by locals, frightened by centipedes, broken down on the highway, tire blown up, and that is just to name a few.

These are not signs that the Maui God wants me off the Island.
These are signs that I have been given an opportunity to learn and grow in ways that I never thought imaginable.

I picture the Maui God in all his might looking down from the Volcano and saying (in a great booming voice); "Casselle, we want you here… but we will not let the tropical sun and sandy beaches make you lazy and dull. We want you strong and sharp. You will be given a set of tests to discover just how much power you have inside of you."
I look up to the Volcano and I think "Bring it on Maui!"

So that's my story, and I am sticking to it!

Running Up, Up, and Away

I am not a runner. I am hardly a jogger. In fact, I don't even like speed walking.
So then why, I ask you, have I decided to take on a marathon???

Mostly I am inspired by my roommate Ann, who just finished her first marathon with her Dad last month. Though her toe nails might be falling off along with several layers of epidermis, the smile on her face is priceless.

Another motivator is the fact that living on Maui has become akin to a permanent vacation as far as culinary delights go. (PS: You can get fat from eating too much coconut and pineapple. Total bummer!) As I am in no way willing to decrease my intake of coconut and pineapple I have had to find a way to burn up those calories.

Then we have the simple fact that running in moderation is one of the easiest ways to stay healthy. All you need is a pair of shoes and some beautiful scenery (which I have ample access to) and you are off. Within two minutes from my home I am running along side the coast. As my feet kick into gear to some Michael Jackson beats I stride along one of the best kite and windsurfing beaches in the world.

Running beside the highway, against the wind, dodging cars that are paying too much attention to the waves than to that blond runner (being me),I will occasionally receive a honk of encouragement from a stranger or a friend will drive by and yell something nasty at me that makes me laugh. It makes me feel connected to my home, my community and friends. It's like facebook but…well… real.

All of these are motivating factors to get me off the couch and on the road.
Today, however, on my afternoon run I found something new. Something miraculous and inspiring. And no I am not talking about that crazy foot-long centipede that crossed my path.

I am talking about an intense body-spirit-mind connection.
I am talking heart pumping, joy dripping, existential release baby!
I am talking it don't matter if your black or white, rich or poor or good or bad because this is the only moment you got honey! I am talking ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no ocean wide enough to keep me from reaching any goal I set for myself.

My feet hit the ground, and push off. The muscles in my legs engage. My mouth opens to take in breath as beads of sweat trickle down my spine. I look towards the Maui Mountains as the waves crash into the North Shore on my left and the wind brings me scents of Mock Orange and Plumeria.

I rise up and above myself to see this little thing that is my life. I see her pushing and striving along the coast of Hana Highway. I see the tears and sweat that drip down her cheeks as she releases all the days stress. I rise up a little more to see all the surfers in the water, studying the waves, pushing their bodies to the limit for a chance to feel the power of the tides. Up a little more I see my island. I see all the people striving and driving against their own wind, trying to find their wave, their stride in life. It is just as I, that little speck now, is trying to find her pace.

And I think: "What incredible creatures we humans are! How powerful our bodies, mind and spirit!" Others may say the human race is doomed but I don't believe it. I see too many examples of strength, desire, creation.
These are the things I see in myself as I push myself past my own limits.
Kona Marathon… here I come!

Love Affair

Can you remember falling in love? You know how everything looks a little brighter and everything tastes a little sweeter? You know how every step you take has a bit of a bounce to it? Isn't it amazing how, when you are in love, even the most mundane of things, such as a trip to the grocery store or doing the dishes, has a certain sparkle to it?

I am in love. And the object of my affection…
A giant land mass in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

She is everything I could ever want; beautiful, diverse, cultured, playful, magical and warm and for the past four months I have been falling head over heels for her.

You know those first stages of love, where each meeting with your partner is like unfolding the packaging of a delicious treat? You carefully, slowly, open her up, treasuring each new bit of information that brings you closer to her. Each week I unwrap a new piece of this island, place it in my mouth and let it melt. Each week I find myself crying as I drive down the curves of this gorgeous rock, so thankful that she has let me in, so grateful that she thinks me worthy enough to embrace.

And yet I am fearful.
As with any new relationship I am wary of the potential disaster that comes from opening your heart up. I am vulnerable to this islands mysterious nature. Will she let me down? Will I let her down? I search for that hidden vice that will send this love affair to a screeching halt. This can't last, can it?

My lover has her faults I won't lie.
I could do without the ants in the kitchen and the cane field dust that covers all my belongings. But these imperfections are like the small freckles on your lovers face, or the scar on his back.
They are the flaws that make her real to you, that bring you closer.

It seems strange to have a love affair with an island.
I am sure my family would rather me fall in love with a land mass closer to home with more affordable housing but what can you do?
You can't choose where you love…