Relax? Check!

I am not a "roll with the punches" kind of girl. I don't do spontaneity and I don't think anyone has ever called me "laid back." In fact, if you look up "easy-going" in the dictionary, it says "antonym: Kristy Rose." I'm serious. Go look. I'll wait.

Let me just break this down for you. I alphabetize my spices. My movies, books and CDs are organized by genre and then placed in alphabetical order. My closet is arranged by style then by color. I keep three calendars and make to-do lists. Excel is one of my favorite software packages because I make spreadsheets for everything. Like the seven-page outline for our wedding. Or the packing lists, complete with multiple check-off boxes for each item, for every trip. I spend hours obsessing over schedules and itineraries and eventually put those into spreadsheets too. I even schedule "sleep" and "relaxation." I can't help it. I like to have an order to everything.

That's probably why God called me to be an Avon lady. I can whip up a two-day delivery schedule broken into 15-minute increments in under five minutes. And then I stick to that schedule. My customers joke that they can tell the time by me. Yes, punctuality is as important as order and remaining on schedule is of top priority. I mean, why bother making a schedule or a spreadsheet if you're not going to stick to it?

In high school, I had a button on my book bag that read, "I thrive on stress." Yes, yes I do. Deadlines, timetables, lists, spreadsheets. These are the fabric of my life. Don't mess with it.

To me, life is all about the details. I know this makes me intense. Perhaps that's why the Pastor who married us suggested I join his Type A recovery group. Oh how I wish I was joking.

That said, there are three things that bring me deep relaxation and relief. I mean the kind of relaxation that sinks deep into your bones and makes your soul sigh. That's the kind of relaxation a Super Type A like me needs.

Baking gives me deep joy and relief from my world of order. I know most people believe cooking is an art and baking is a science. But for me, baking is an art. An art from the deepest place in my heart.

Being in the water, whether it's pool, ocean, lake or river, washes away the stress and compulsion. I remember taking a class on Watsu (water-based massage) and the teacher said, "wow, girl, you really let go when you get into the water." At the time, she was performing watsu on me and noticed how every muscle in my body just melted and glided through the water.

Yet there is one thing that takes me to a tranquil place even more than baking or water. You guessed it. Hula. When I hula, I forget there's a world around me. I forget to think. I let go of planning. I just dance. My body responds to the music as though it was created for hula. My hips keep time, my hands tell the story and I step-together-step-touch into another world.

That's why hula worship has struck such a deep chord in my soul. The music leads me to a meditative mindset and my hands tell the story of my Awesome Creator and Savior. When I dance and sing praise to God, I feel this calming yet invigorating energy move through me and fill me up. It's Aloha. (read last week's post to understand)

Hula worship to me is like melting into Him and finally taking a breath, finally resting in His love and grace.

Living Aloha?

Even though I'm a lover of all things Hawai'i and Polynesian, I've often wondered what it meant to "Live Aloha." It wasn't too long ago, while reading a book about the Big Island, that I figured out what that saying meant. Before you can know what "live aloha" means, you need to understand the meaning of aloha and its antithesis haole.

The word aloha though used mostly as a greeting, its literal translation is much deeper than just "hello" or "goodbye."  The word actually "breath of life." Conversely, the derogatory term "haole" means "breathless." Haole (how-lee) is what islanders call white people. When the first white men arrived on the islands, they were dressed in heavy, stiff clothes with tight collars. To the laid back islanders, the white people looked like they were struggling to breathe.

Living aloha means to live and treat each other with love and respect. It means to connect mind and heart in a compassionate, considerate way. It means to spread love around to everyone.

When I think about "aloha" and "haole", I think about passion. I think of living aloha as meaning living with passion. I think of "haoles" as people who are living life without passion. We all know people who are haoles. They go through life, one day to the next, rather robotic about everything. And when you ask them what they are living for, they look at you blankly. That's a haole.

Job 33:4 says "For the Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of Almighty gives me life."

Aloha means "breath of life" and my Almighty Father breathed life into me, so I strive every day to live with passion, to live with love.

What Happened to that Plan?

Sitting in church today, I asked myself, "Whatever happened to that dream of being a nurse-missionary in Africa?" And I couldn't figure out the answer.

That was the one career dream I kept coming back to in high school. Oh yes, I was as fickle then as I am now. I'd also wanted to be a podiatrist (why?!), a production assistant (um, ok), a journalist (been there done that not for me), a corporate mogul (that is another post for another day) and President of the United States (ok, I still daydream about that one).

But being a nurse in Africa resonated with me. So why did I forsake that dream? I think it was a perfect storm.

I was accepted to two nursing programs but turned them both down after spending a summer as a candy-striper at Summit Medical Center. So I went to a liberal arts school thinking I'd go pre-med.

My college adviser scared me to death when I said I was thinking pre-med. I remember leaving her office in tears. She even terrified my dad. And he isn't easily scared.

One of my closest friends at the time told me the medical field didn't seem like a fit for me.

Half-way through my freshwoman year at Mills--it's an all-girls college, so yes, we were called freshwomen--my grandmother had a series of strokes and it was during that crazy time that I declared my major. Perhaps I would have chosen differently if I hadn't had that emotional stress weighing on me. Who knows?!

I'm not saying I regret my choices because I don't. It's just I'd forgotten about wanting to be a nurse in Africa until this morning. And I couldn't remember why or when I let go of that aspiration. Ironically, my grandmother had also wanted to be a nurse-missionary in Africa. This is something I didn't know about her until we sat and chatted one afternoon after she had her strokes. She too couldn't think of why it didn't happen.

It's funny how life bends and shifts. Ironic how the future looks nothing like we imagined it would. Yet comforting to know the Big Guy has it all under control. It's all in His hands. And who knows? Maybe one day I'll pursue that Africa plan.

I Miss You, My Hawai'i

Aloha! It's Friday!

Last night, I had a dream about Iz. You know Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, the guy who sings "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" with that sweet angelic voice? Yes, him. I had a dream and he was in it. When I woke, I didn't remember the details of the dream, but I had this deep longing in my heart for Hawai'i.

It's just like the song, I miss you, my Hawai'i. So I went through the photos I have saved on my laptop from some of our trips and thought I'd share a few with you. Come, visit my Hawai'i with me.

1979: My first visit to the islands

1981: My sister's first visit to the islands

 

 

1983

 

 





 

1989: my sister and I have always been water-lovers. I'm pretty sure we have gills. This hotel was in Honolulu. The pool is on the roof!

1993: on our Hawaii vacations, Karianne and I would always pretend we were twins and we'd give ourselves new Hawaiian names. Karianne's was always Kali but I don't remember what mine was.

 

2001: Though Scott had been to Hawai'i once as a child, he'd never been to Kaua'i until he went with our family in 2001. This photo was taken on Polihale beach.



 

2002: Our honeymoon to Maui

 

2004: Adam's first Hawai'i trip



 

And now, a little music. Click here.