Signs of Life in Between

Morning

Venus and Jupiter held hands.
Mahina, the Moon, was brilliant, not far away from the pair,
in her just scooped out shape. Is she 'Ole or Kaloa?
Sky more deep and dark than bright.

Day
The Sun, Ka La, has a mostly clear sky today.
Streaks of clouds, plenty of them.

Wash Day.
Lines string between the pillars of the Pavilion.
The big white cooler ... wash tub.
Hot water, baking soda and white vinegar ... wash basics.

Between washes, a walk.
Up the trail to the Oak Forest place.
Along the way not far from the golden wagon ... Coyote left a piece of his tail.
On the trails the grasses are softening.
Birds flit ... feeding, gathering nesting ... too early for that?
More signs of Coyotes as I exert a little more lung to climb.
I leave my mark. But, they already know us.
We live here, too.

We howl at the Big White Dog who barks at them.
We howled with Coyote when Mahina was Full ... then darkened by Earth's Shadow.
We howled  and felt the shift between, within ... making room like butterflies inside cocoons.

Astrologically.

"Thursday, Saturn in Capricorn sextiles Neptune in Pisces, each in the sign they rule. They won’t do that again, this time around, while both are direct... Together in sextile, these planets are best explained in metaphor: the caterpillar/butterfly when obscured in its chrysalis. You can’t see reality, but something is in the works. The opportunity is solid, but it’s also uncertain. For now. The gains we see and grasp are not all there is to this influence. We are changed. Everything is changed by what we’ve touched in divinity, but that change is not entirely clear in the short term. Believe in the gains that show up now, but leave room for what hasn’t yet arrived" - Satori

A friend left us with a gift the other day. She said the book reminded her of my writing. The book? Becoming Animal by David Abram.

" David Abram reminds us of what we already know, but have allowed the artifices of technology and over-reliance on abstract intelligence to dull: We are each of us gifted with animal senses that languish without exercise, and that can excite and nourish our spiritual and sensual engagement with the world."

Hawaiians and Indigenous cultures across Earth live this "spiritual and sensual engagement with the world." Hawaiians call it being Mauliauhonua, families intimate with the place where they live. The tricky part about becoming mauliauhonua in this twenty-first century world, is the challenge of the colonized mind hidden in so many places, in so many unexpected beliefs layered in the folds of our na'au the gut unsure of who or what are invaders. It's no wonder the modern day Indigenous immune system breaks out in hives!

The process of unfurling wet wings tight in the obscured chrysalis, is painful. And in many cases, the question is: Why did it take so long?

Pete helped me wring the dirty water from the heavy hoodie I wear to keep me warm against the North breezes. He said in answer to that question, "I guess it doesn't matter that it took so long. It just matters that it does happens." Colonized thinking has embedded itself in so many places. Generational metamorphosis takes time... again and again. I am an old woman with skin wearing thin. The signs of life in between leaves me spotted. What shape will I take when those holes fill in again?


Do you relate? I'd love to hear about it.

The call, and response

"If you don't live it, it won't come out your horn." - Charlie Parker

 I was texting last night. Ah ha?
Yeh, I was texting last night.

The new-to-us iphone is slowly making the whorl we live in just a little bit bigger. For so long, how long? For a long time (I got my in 2001) Pete and I have used our fliptop Samsung cellphones clinging to the once new as the many adaptations to being in a highly technological society stacked up: no black and white TVs? Well, to tell you the truth until not too many winters ago we watched DVDs on a small, but heavy old color TV that Pete hauled in and out of the vardo.

Just recently, we have finally made the move to watching DVDs on this laptop. No Netflick, yet. So you see the opening lines of this post are significant.

We took a drive north to visit a long-time friend. Our rendezvous  took place in a cafe that featured perogi, a comfort food Pete has talked about forever. His gramma used to make 'em. The Polish-Ukranian dumplings were small "give me a plate of food" too small in Pete's book but the conversation was rich, and it had been a long time between visits. An added bonus to our hook-up was the sharing of library loaned episodes of more Pie in the Sky. What we could not find on this island our friend could find on hers.

I'm putting this YouTube for making those perogi here for the day Pete and I try to make those little goodies at home. Blogging a space for keeping the possible future.

The sun is shining this morning. Shadows are cast like tattoos on the old white sheet curtain. January is quickly becoming past of history. What a month! Without light those shadows would not show up. Somewhere there's a message for me as I reflect compassionately on the hives that have been making their presence known on the soft spots of my skin. One source says, "hives are itchy bumps on the body that can be triggered by stress. Anxiety causes a considerable amount of stress on the immune system, so those prone to hives are likely to get them." 

Thing is, I haven't had hives for many, many years. They showed up the night before our perogi rendezvous, stuck around throughout the day, and tried again last night. Always just before midnight. Last night, I checked on the timing when Pete was climbing back into bed. 

"What time is it, honey?" I asked.
"Ah, about 11:30. You still awake, want me to tell you a story?" Pete was concerned about the hives and the stress I was telling him that was the story going on for me. 
"No." I didn't go into details not wanting to give the hives or the anxiety more to feed on. 

I calmed myself as gently as I could. Breathed through the temptation to scratch and sunk into a dream of teaching people to use old punch-the-keys cash registers. A variation on an old theme sort of dream from my long past career as a cashier trainer for a now dead drug store chain. 

I was texting to my son last night.
"This texting thing is pretty cool. Why did it take us so long?"

We are a funny lot, us humans. I wonder how long it takes to get to know myself and my place within the pack. I wish I was easier on the transitioning periods and consider the wild ones that live so close to us. Coyote for example.

  

 "Maybe freedom really is nothing left to lose. You had it once in childhood, when it was okay to climb a tree, to paint a crazy picture and wipe out on your bike, to get hurt. The spirit of risk gradually takes its leave. It follows the wild cries of joy and pain down the wind, through the hedgerow, growing ever fainter. What was that sound? A dog barking far off? That was our life calling to us, the one that was vigorous and undefended and curious.” 

-  Peter Heller (Hell or High Water)from Myth & Moor

How long does it take you to respond to life's calls?

Hail to Jots, and doing nothing while leaving nothing undone

Hover over Jots to read the Mele Inoa written .for her.

"The Alaskan town of Talkeetna has a population of 900, so it doesn't require a complicated political structure to manage its needs. Still, it made a bold statement by electing a cat as its mayor for 15 years. Stubbs, a part-manx, won his first campaign as a write-in candidate, and his policies were so benign—no new taxes, no repressive laws—that he kept getting re-elected. What might be the equivalent of having a cat as your supreme leader for a while, Scorpio? From an astrological perspective, now would be a favorable time to implement that arrangement. This phase of your cycle calls for relaxed fun and amused mellowness and laissez-faire jauntiness." - Free Will Astrology

Three summers ago our supreme leader -- Jots, pictured above -- was taken by Coyote. For many years this joy-filled wild cat took us on many great hikes through narrow trails between ferns just beginning to unfurl and kept us, especially me, on those walks until Bracken was shoulder high.

She was all fun and a ferocious hunter; the two were not separate parts of her. Both made her whole and holy. Oh yes, Bird Clans lessened sharply during the decade when she kept watch from porch step of the small golden wagon. For that, I do feel sorrow.

But on this evening when Langley's leader sends out electronic mail to say "High Winds -- Again" and I listen to the roar of traffic because the wagon door gapes open as I write, I consider how much less a wholeness I feel without our cat as our supreme leader.

We could not have kept her very well out here on the prairie front. Coyote roam with such regularity, night after night. Where would she have slept?

Today Pete and I watched old episodes of Pie in the Sky starring Richard Griffiths (now in some restaurant in the sky, along with Jots). I felt a bug had tapped me of my energy; the old 1990's British detective series was just the amusement and entertainment to mellow us out and treat us to wonderful kitchen and cooking segments. If you've never watched this old series and you love a gentler version of detecting, we highly recommended Henry and Margaret Crabbe (the two main characters in Pie in the Sky).

The liminal space is midway between here and there, and so it helps to reckon the attitude that is much like suggested in the Free Will Astrology for me, this week. With Jots in charge, as our supreme leader, no new taxing policies or repressive laws begin now. For 15 years. That would take me well into my 80's. Okay, that would do it.

Hail to Jots! What do you think? Cast a vote for my beloved black cat. Why not.

Once upon a time I wrote stories about my Jots, and called her "Girl Cat" who had a friend named Camelia. That story starts ...

"Sometimes I wish, and sometimes I hope." The two might mean different things I'm not sure. The girl was content to watch the sun warming up her cat. The cat was content to bathe with shadows. It had been too long since sun and shadows kept the two company. The day was quiet except for the ocassional small planes that buzzed the sky with their propelling noises.

"Once I thought that buzz was a bird too big to eat, so of course I figured it was big enough to eat me." Girl Cat was a funny but very practical sort and the thinking she thought out loud were usually the kind that made Camelia laugh or at least smile broadly.

The rest of the story is here, if you'd like to read it To keep reading more of those Jots stories click on the titles found on the sidebar of that blog.

For a time it seems important to commit to the platform of doing nothing while leaving nothing undone.

 "... Sunday night (January 20, 2019), the Moon moves to Leo and into opposition with the Aquarius Sun, the full moon eclipse. This lunation occurs with Mercury nearing the south node in Capricorn, 12th house to the Sun. If you tell someone or something goodbye, it can be pretty permanent. It can also be a mistake. You need to be sure of what you’re saying. Pluto is nearby. Words have power. Be serious, and don’t go off half-cocked, playing for drama. That can be a very Leo Moon thing to do.

It’s not magic. It’s not a big deal because MAGIC. It’s a big deal because it’s emotionally charged and full of drama. People can be generous and forgiving, but wouldn’t it be better if you considered the impact before you need that? If you hear something you’re not thrilled about, consider that as well. There’s much opportunity to get wound up this weekend. For good or ill. For both! It’s a fun weekend! Be wise, and give it all time before you react."

A very Daoist approach, Chinese efficacy, to life, and the Way. The Chinese dragons within me likes the sound and the feel of that. So, I do nothing.

And you?

Liminality: Between

"In anthropology, liminality is the quality of ambiguity or disorientation that occurs in the middle stage of rites, when participants no longer hold their preritual status but have not yet begun the transition to the status they will hold when the rite is complete." Wikipedia

"... in the liminal space between "here" and "there." As myth, folklore, and fairy tales remind us, the space between any two things is a traditional place of enchantment: a bridge between two banks of a river, the silvery light between night and day, the elusive moment between dreaming and waking, the instant of change in shape-shifting transformation ... Terri Windling

The weather is such a keen indicator of what is, and what isn't. I woke this morning before sunrise, red rubber boots and a far too thin pair of socks on, and right away thought Ouch, my foot was protesting and achy. Stiff and cold, we my foot and my whole self made our way down the crunchy grass.

The sun is now risen, and the evidence of both frost and activity that is best done with the warmth of sun are present.

We, Pete and I, are in that between stage; still here, not quite, but not there yet, either. Our communications with people who care about our journey are the bread crumbs and markers dropped as we make our way. Things like these:

"I hope you know that I will help in whatever way I can. You and Pete are two of my precious, rare beings that I treasure."

Another friend reminds me of the multiplicity of Goats. " Goats eat blackberry bushes like caviar and love playing mountain on old boxes.. reality colored with whimsy."

A friend is asking her friends for ideas.
"how close/far from the city, what kind of neighbors they want, what kind of land they seek to be near. Are they self-contained, or do they need house access? Do they have crafts they continue to practice that might need additional space?"

What great questions, some of which we had not thought of ourselves. That's the thing about opening yourself up to being vulnerable. Risky business. There's the chance you get a piece of the magic of an enchanted next. Or, if your enemies attempt to use you for target practice? Well, there's always the Star Wars Last Jedi approach (which I personally loved) or/and the Wise Woman Tradition that as Susun Weed writes in Healing Wise is a combination of Jedi master and Herbal Green Witchery (which I REALLY love!).:

" Problems are not cured; they are not enemies to be eliminated.

In the Wise Woman tradition, we do not love our enemies. We make them our allies. In the Wise Woman tradition, we eliminate our enemies. We eliminate them by accepting all their gifts, by feasting on the nourishment they offer. In the Wise Woman tradition, we gain cooperation from our enemies by respecting their unique reality. They become our supporters. In the Wise Woman tradition we honor and cherish our enemies as benefactors of our health/wholeness/holiness; for our enemies force us, as few others will, to be strong and wise."

Another friend left a message on my long-standing 808 cellphone, the phone number that I've had since 2001 when I leapt into the world of new technology. That old flip top phone still carries the phone numbers of dearly loved ancestors who no longer need cellphones to leave me messages; they show up in dreams. Liminal space. I called her back and we chatted sharing those personal sagas of moving and not knowing where the next is yet. We share a common lineage with MCS and in so many ways the Wise Woman tradition approach to problems, cures, and feasting on the nourishment 'enemies' offer has made all the difference when the between space gets the spookiest. When is that? For me, it's the space where I wall myself off from all others and leave no room for discerning the benefactor factor.

Benefactor factor? Yeah, like our chat with friends last week. Pete and I arrived with gifts and gratitude for supportive conversation. Most of the two hours spent that morning was filled with Pete or me doing all the talking. Our friends listened. Asked few, but perceptive questions. And only in the final two minutes did they offer us an unexpected surprise. So surprising in fact, we won't yet reveal the offer for it simmers as magic, real magic, needs Mystery to bless the birthing.

In the meantime, a second pot of oats and nettles is feeding us. Pete plays games of Solitaire seated on the throw rug in the vardo with a warm bowl of porridge in his lap. A jar of almond butter sent to him from Minnesota will top his cereal. I'm writing with the sunshine brightening up the old sheet of a curtain in between spoonfuls of warmth with chunks of pears as sweet treats.

The element of collaboration is so much a part of the benefactor factor. In the years since we began living from the golden wagon of a vardo, we have had to let go off attitudes or experiences that wall us off from collaboration. Learning what the action, and the process of respectful give and take means beyond the theories ... that takes practice.

Like any practice it starts by showing up. Again and again. Melt down? Yes, they happen, too. Between practice sessions, and sometimes as the session.

Four examples of persisting and creatively expressing are inspiring me today. I leave this post with the last two examples. The first two are already part of this whole ramble (Terri Windling's post from Myth & Moor began this post; and Susun Weed, keeper of the Wise Woman Tradition informs my approach to wholeness/health with her approach with enemies).

The Lost Words, Book of Spells.  

 

We have the beautiful book The Lost Words, thanks to our local Sno-Isle Library System. And above, that's Pete reading and thumbing through the pages as we enjoyed an evening in the shared kitchen with our son, Christopher Kawika. (Sorry for the clipped ending to Pete's description. He was saying, "It (Raven) wasn't very high.")

The magic and the artistry of collaboration involved in the making of that book unfolded more, and more as I linked to this post by artist, writer, magic-maker Jackie Morris. Do follow the link to Jackie Morris's blog website. It will do something to you, I promise.

And last but so serendipitous is this connection with a farm, and a place near Sebastapol, CA. Sebastapol where in the fall of 2007, Pete and I arrived in our dear 'Scout' the Subaru after a pioneering road trip from Anacortes. I had discovered a person who was teaching a workshop (the first of his offerings it turns out) for people interested in building their own tiny house. I imagined a small, curved roof of a home to learn how to live with a mysterious illness.

Twelve years later, while I sit to write from another shared space where definitions and imagined connections tease me from a too-small or ill-equipped story, I found Sierra Seeds. The "Indigenous Seed Sovereignty" mission is described on the Sierra Seeds' website with these thoughts:

“Our foods are a part of our culture and way of life…Our seeds contain histories of our people and contain the security of future generations. In this generation we will ensure that our fish, root crops, buffalo, forests and other foods are retained for the generations yet to come. Food is a human right not to be purchased, or simply delivered in sacks and commodities, but to be grown and harvested in our communities and traditional territories.”

 All across Turtle Island (North America) we are seeing a great resurgence of tribes building healthy and resilient food systems as a cornerstone to cultural and ecological renewal programs, as well as a means to reclaim indigenous economies and true economic and political sovereignty. If a community is to be truly sovereign and free from colonizing forces, they must be able to feed and nourish themselves with culturally appropriate foods. Food and seed sovereignty is the right of peoples to healthy and culturally appropriate food produced through ecologically sound and sustainable methods, and their right to define their own food and agriculture systems. This is the true foundation for the healing from the violent disruption of culture and communities due to colonization and globalization. Removed from their lands and forced to assimilate into Western culture, many native people no longer live in their traditional territories nor do they eat their traditional foods. Many processed and introduced foods have become the staple, and nutritional-related diseases such as Type II diabetes and heart disease have become epidemics.

Through educational Indigenous Seed Keeper workshops, with an emphasis on traditional methods of seed stewardship, restoring traditional ecological knowledge and indigenous foodways, and finding creative and new ways of bringing these exquisite indigenous foods back into our daily diets, we are honoring that food is truly our best medicine.

The food sovereignty movement is the most innovative approach to restoration of culture and the long term goal of food security."

And the hands-on workshop I imagine being part of at Sierra Seeds? Is here.  We may not make this February 2, 2019 gathering, but some day! Let the collaborations be in our life. "We build a spirit of being fed."

Somethings ripen as the morning grows toward noon. My bowl of oats and nettles is empty, nourished am I with the simple wild foods that we afford easily and cook with kind regard. The traffic is heavy with cars and trucks, and all the seemingly disconnected bits of here and there make their way.

The seed of indigenous knowing within me has many memories. I wish for their lessons and am grateful to be awake to the clues and equally thankful for the odd ways messages make their way to me. Oh Goddess, soften me enough to be receptive to changes, and strong enough to weather and accept the process. Humor will help a lot.

A coyote-like man with Gemini quirkiness happened into my dreams, and the scheme of my life changed once upon a time. We could, neither of us, never have imagined the joy, the luck, the unexpected twists we'd take in our life together.

And for you, is the liminal space familiar territory? We'd love to hear about it.

Mulling, fetching water and getting down ... like old goats

Fetching Water Old Goat Series Painting by David Wyatt

Mull. to think things over; ruminate, to heat, sweeten and flavor with spices; a soft plain-weave fabric or cotton or silk, dyed in pastel shades; probably from muddle - The Free Dictionary

"When the Sun conjoins Pluto Friday morning (Today), the Moon sextiles both. Again, opportunity. Feel into what is presented as your range of options. Don’t be rushed. Mull them over, and FEEL what they mean to you. Will this leave you feeling more connected? Overpowered? Out of control? Take your time to really discern the impact on your quality of life."- more Satori

This is where we're at now: We have had a precious, meaningful conversation seated 'round a table with Ceremonial Red Hibiscus Flowers and the carved wooden limb of Guava which doubles as a lomi lomi stick and mighty fine reminder to take the talk seriously. And as well, we were fed a delicious soup and condiments and blessed we were good and plenty by the furry folk who tended those parts of ritual we may have missed.

Mahalo nui, thank you so much dear friends, you've offered something real, and, unexpected in its 'shape.'* More conversation will come soon.
 
The Friday Sun and Pluto conjunction coincides with the start of the four 'Ole Moons (Quarter Moon Phases/times to reconnoiter) prior to the next Full Moon. Pete and I are ruminating, raising the heat in our selves and our lives together; making room for the unexpected sweet flavor that comes when friends really see and hear us; a soft and plain-weave gathering for food and heart-speak has taken place. We muddle through the old habits and old beliefs about the shape of our Metaphoric Violin and give it to Ke Akua. She, the great creator, is a Wise Woman.

Our life as a spiral, expands, we embrace the process, incorporate the opportunities for a good and grounded connection at this age of our life. I am getting down like an old goat; carrying water (doing the basic everyday things) and  spending this time to discern the impact of our options for moving on the quality of our lives.

 And as I edited this post this bit of astrological mail came my way (ElsaElsa Free Newsletter; see the sidebar) to add validity to get down, and back to earth.

"With the Sun, Mercury, Saturn, and Pluto in Capricorn, it's safe to say there are people out there who aren't playin'.   This doesn't mean there is no fun to be had.

 There is fun to be had with Venus and Jupiter in Sagittarius. You just have to have your fun on your side of the boundary.  Stay within the rule of law and such. 

 There's a balance here if you can bring yourself to accept it. I understand how and why a person might resist this; I've done it myself. But sooner or later, reality intrudes. 

 Saturn and Capricorn represent reality. This energy will be emphasized now through all of 2020. 

 It's said that Saturn will bring you to your knees.  There is a good reason for this. It's because it's true.

 It's not that bad to be brought back to earth... a human being. After all, it's people, not gods who get to fall in love and stay that way. To support others and to be supported.

 You may be able to imagine something better, but eventually the veil drops and you find yourself standing there with nothing.  At that point, something real looks great, even when limited."

Go Goats! (Capricorn is the Goat, a Seagoat.)  

Are you feeling the presence of Saturn and Capricorn in your life?

The language of moving

"Standard English has just one word for feelings of longing for a particular place: 'homesick.' The word implies a polarity: you are at home or away, and suggests the simple solution of going home; it carries no sense of the process of adapting to a new place or of mixed or complex feelings. " - Alex Klaushofer

"We don't move from one phase of life to another as easily and clearly as stepping through a door; there is a time of transition, a liminal space between there and here to be moved through as we re-form into the person who is going to live in this new place. The length of time is different for each move, but the one thing I've learned after all these years is that the mythic journey through the threshold of change is shorter, gentler, and less overwhelming if we remain aware of the transitional process, and accept it. Better still, respect it." - Terri Windling

The New Moon felt like being hung-over after a binge. It's been a long long time since I've drank or drugged myself into being hung-over, but that doesn't mean emotions and binging on the realities of life don't leave an old woman without an after effect.

We have a move to make. Soon is a good enough answer to when. The transition is not easy but it is in the process. I'm awake, fed on nourishing herbal infusion (Comfrey this morning) and a bowl of oatmeal and nettles simmered and topped with a new-to-me apple named Jazz (and it is justly named ... wow!) Yesterday was the New Moon and all I could do was slog and sleep. We made it into town to find fresh stuff for a dinner, came home chopped and arranged a simple one dish cook-in-the-oven meal; then ate it.

Slept for seven hours and here I am. Fed, Morning Paged, and researched for a week of firing up a plan and feeling out the options. It helps me so much to start my day with self-care: writing three pages of long-hand dumps out the sh*t like an emotional chiropractic session adjusting me for any pretense (or most of them) before my internal editor is fully awake. Eating with care means I get some protein (oats and nettles) to refuel me first thing; and then I do my research (that's Scorpio Mercury me born to dig). The Internet is perfect for that part of me, and thanks to the help of our Expert Loved Ones you know who you are, we are upgraded and have support at the ready.

Support. Ready. That's key right there.

"...Mercury is moving into conjunction with Saturn all week. There’s plenty of time to consider, so don’t nail things down before you get all the angles covered. Even if pushed, ESPECIALLY if pushed.

The Capricorn Sun moves into conjunction with Pluto, exact early Friday. The order of the day intersects with an irresistable force. It can be just for the day, or it can set the course for a long time to come. Power imposes order on the individual somehow. It didn’t come about overnight, and it’s serious business. In cardinal earth, this change is happening, with or without you. You get to choose which..." - Satori

My notebook has handwritten notes to myself about this fresh week unfolding:

January, 2019

M 7 Firing up the plan; feel out options
T 8 (Ditto)
W 9 Self Care
Th 10 Timing, be gentle
Fri 11 Cap Sun conjuncts Pluto; Serious Business; act on personal time line; don't be forced/ or force; Feel what the options mean
Weekend of 'Ole (reconnoiter)

I've put these thoughts here to commit to our journey. The language of moving carries layers of meaning and we have baggage that needs sorting before we choose to carry it with us. If you are one of those folks we connect with or contact this week as we feel out options, I bless the conversations we are about to have. E Ho Mai, I ask for Ke Akua to lead the way with a broad and loving kindness as the main component to this new move. Help us determine what we need to know.

One last thing about this week. I'm working on a writing project that weaves old and new together. The old? Those are the stories and columns I wrote while Pete and I lived in Kuli'ou'ou in the home my brother David and I grew up in. Those stories are important. Tucked into the pages of an old newspaper those columns were read by an unknown audience for many years. This project I'm working on takes a couple dozens columns from then, and tacks on current life today. Have I moved ... forward or back?

Back to the future, or forward to the past. Either answer will do. What I worked on yesterday was a column written about my experience as a reader of the play "The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu." That play was written by my friend Victoria Nalani Kneubuhl in 1987. The column I wrote was in early 2000. Many years had passed between that first writing and the first reading of "The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu." Five characters, all women, tell the story of Hawaii's first experience with white missionaries. Three characters are Hawaiians. Two characters are Haole.

The conversion was that of a Hawaiian ali'i, the most powerful woman at the time in Hawaiian history making a decision to 1) eat with her son to break the ancient rules, the Kapu, and 2) convert to Christianity at a time when all peoples who were not White were thought of as 'less than human.' The theme of the play, and the reading of it was historic for my Ancestors, and myself personally.

As a factor in my current conditions preparing us to move, I fold in the lessons embedded in that project of writing; researching involved reading the clues and listening to this interview with Victoria Kneubuhl and consider the magic involved because ... these Internet connections are our kupuna saying, "Make the move. Adapt. Survive. Our stories are so worthwhile." I inhale the options. Exhale the potential. Wheww ....

Amama Ua Noa! ::paipai lima:: clap,clap:: The prayer is lifted!