I remember writing portions of this book on the long plane ride to Oahu, desperately trying to finish the material that I had gathered prior to the trip. This experience was taking me into a world of unknown territory and would be the first time that I’d travel over pacific waters to witness the Hawaiian Islands. It was as if my body knew that the next week would be a game-changer; a life shaking experience that would permanently alter my message and life perception. So, I purged my thoughts and experiences onto the page out of fear that I wouldn’t be able to revisit an old mindset. Each phase of the ascending journey is valuable.

Sitting in between my two co-workers, my head was filled with painfully superficial thoughts about how skinny I wanted to stay for yoga pictures while still enjoying the local cuisine and drinks. I was so excited to bear witness to the exotic nature of Hawaii and I prayed to taste a part of the culture that I’d seen from television or movies filmed there; The Brady Bunch, Lilo and Stitch, and most recently, the magical Moana. Each morning for the next five days, we’d wake up as the sun was rising to stare at the waves off the deck of our house before jumping in the rental Jeep. Listening to the Moana soundtrack, we enjoyed every moment of the one-hour drive to Honolulu from Hauula. The haunting music seemed to speak directly from the freshly waking coast, giving us all visible chills. The sleepy clouds hovered over the green mountain bases, undisturbed by the wind rolling off the nearby sea. The thick haze only offered a glimpse of the mountain tops as if the sun had already claimed each peak in this breathtaking partnership. I had never seen a dawn haze burn out of the sky from top to bottom and I’m thankful that the image is burned into my senses. Writing this helps ensure that I’ll never forget the speechless moments we shared while winding down that vibrant green coastline. Every humid sunrise was an initiation for the worthy and seeking, so that its orange sunset was the reward and graduation ceremony; each day a new chapter in the course of soul development.

We justified this Hawaiian vacation by squeezing an eccentric yet clinical seminar in between a few days of bliss. Although I felt prepared, the universe didn’t need permission to change my plans. To reach me, she would send countless messengers and breathtaking moments until I could truly listen. One such messenger was the local chiropractor who hosted the weekend class. Dr Ho wanted to used this energetic course as an opportunity to ground our perceptions, on and off the treatment table. In case anyone was new to energy work, he first explained the sensations we would feel during the course evaluation and treatment; a balance of harnessing your power while equally surrendering to the power of another. The material was so foreign and all the providers who traveled to this class were at different levels of exposure. I puffed my chest, fell back on the local celebrity status of my employer and felt confident that my experience would impress the group. It was Dr. Ho’s very humble words that deflated my ego and united us all…

Coming from this aged and salted man, his statement felt so profound. If his words didn’t perfectly describe God and all of life’s synchronicities to you then I doubt the summation of this book will be able to either. No one defeats the ocean, meaning we will never harness or convince her to change for us. With respect, awe, and understanding we can adapt, take safety measures, and stay open minded to the daily expanse of energy surrounding us. Those who have had a near drowning experience can understand how the magnitude of the ocean’s power is hard to describe. Once you’ve felt the fear and hopelessness of a flimsy body in the hands of a giant, you can never view your role on this earth in the same way. No one defeats the ocean of life’s forces, yet why do we try? This weekend would be a far cry away from the techniques I’d been taught in chiropractic school and I’m so fortunate that the healing style matched the energy of the land (and water) on which I learned it.

Sitting in our hot and stuffy class that first morning, my attention floated away as I continued to debate the meaning of our aquatic life. A cool breeze entered the room and pulled my attention back to the present moment. This beautiful Hawaiian woman walked into the class. She was late and obviously coming straight from yoga with a matcha tea in hand, truly a woman after my own heart. Tall, tan, and curvy, her eyes glowed as all ancient souls do and her unique presence was complete with a white flower tucked behind her ear. She was a real-life Moana! I know that I had entered a mature and healthy stage of my life because traditionally I would have avoided this type of woman all weekend. I would see her as competition and try to prove my dominance so that there was no doubt that in a room full of men, I was the talented smart woman of the group. But I’d come too far away from my home to allow those small behaviors to reach me here so I asked to partner with her immediately at our first break-out session and have had Whitney in my life ever since. She was the only other yoga instructor in the room and was a mirror image of my many layered soul. If you have not had a soul recognition moment with someone yet in life, let me prepare you in saying that it is slightly alarming and overwhelming to be so truly seen by a stranger 5,000 miles from home. She got me, I got her, and we knew this was designed by the gods. Whitney and I spent the rest of the day together, chatting at lunch and stoking our kindred flame throughout the rest of the lectures. She joined our group for dinner the next night and invited us to spend our Monday after class with her as well. This would be the most magical day of our trip yet, void of all the tourist attractions and commercial plans we anticipated finding. I joined her in yoga class that morning, flowing in the familiar sequences of a language we spoke from different sides of the continent. How amazing that I could have had a similar yoga teacher training close to 4,000 miles away. After class and many hugs later, she scrapped our hiking plans to recommend an off-the-beaten path trail that had a spectacular view of the coast. We gladly obeyed and said goodbye until we could meet later in the day.

Two very pale Oklahomans and rapidly reddening girl from New Jersey marched down a local street to find a hidden trail head that was described to us that morning. Avoiding small lizards and giggling at the stray chickens, we side-stepped down a narrow path that may have led to someone’s backyard. Our hesitation melted like the humid drops on the surrounding leaves as the trail opened and the sounds of the street disappeared. We stomped through the wet trail, under pale vines of tropical trees, careless of our intruding presence. Up ahead about a quarter mile in, the forest presented us with our first obstacle; we had the choice to turn left up a steep incline or stay right to continue following the low trickling stream. Without Whitney as a guide we chose right and hastily stepped over the rising roots, humid green foliage, and bright flowers lining the water’s trail. We agreed to turn around if this got too wild or desolate. With each step I took away from that interchange, I became very aware of my physical mass and the space that it took up in comparison to the surrounding nature. I wanted to be smaller, to be lighter, less invasive in its home. This hike would be the first moment in my spiritual journey that I’d recognize and sense an interaction that human beings have with the imprinted lives of a land. I’ve always been in awe of nature and the magic of a forest but this frozen ability to swallow was unlike anything I’d ever be able to blame on appreciation. I know very little about the gods of this culture, but I knew enough to drop my chin and offer gratitude to the “something” that still lives in the unseen expanse of this land. I felt them closing in on us and let their strong presence break the veil. So this was the “mana” Hawaiians were talking about.

I asked the ancient and sacred spirits for permission to enter their home, reassuring them my respectful presence was for exploration and admiration only. The weight on my throat and back lifted, permitting me to swallow my unspoken words as the sense of passing admissions sunk in. The Hawaiian culture is so ingrained into its web of living plants, music, people, waves, and food. It taught me a valuable lesson, one that I would take everywhere I go, to make peace with foreign lands and nature that I’d like to enter. With respect and permission, I feel welcome and safe in new environments. I try to understand my privileged interference in the natural world and that I am the intruder, not the animals or conditions I find while exploring. In return, I’ve never suffered from altitude sickness, seasickness, animal bites, or travel exhaustion. I do however, happen upon strange and subtle details in the woods that I believe most people would walk by without seeing, a metaphor for much more in life.

The two men walked in front of me, leaving behind a growing sense of fear that correlated with the distance between us. I looked down to watch my footing and saw something moving between the large rounded rocks. A small gray kitten laid motionless in the crevice, seemingly in no danger or harm. Light rapid breaths matched the size of this tiny, lonely kitten and I fought my westernized urge to assume it was a stray house cat that should be taken home with me. In this foreign terrain, I wasn’t sure what type of cat I’d actually found or how close its mommy was to us. With a chill up my spine and sense of being watched, I said a small prayer of protection for the kitten and excused myself from the river bed…. Another humbling reminder of my intrusion in this natural kingdom. A mile of rocks and fallen trees later, our chosen path ended abruptly. A large wall caverned over a dry waterfall leaving a sea of stones underneath it. Walking as far into the cavern as possible and looking up at the competing structures, a small stream of mysteriously fed water appeared around the bend, pooling into a cold body of shallow reflection. Each passing molecule of water contributed to the growing garden of moss underneath the constant stream. As I looked up, I saw one neon blue rope hung haphazardly from an invisible anchor moving with the current of the water. It had been tied many times to reinforce the fraying bare portions of the rope. We had two choices, try using this rope to smear up the slick face of the rock or turn around and head home, satisfied with the nice simple walk.

Being novice rock climbers yet seasoned show-offs, the bags fell to the ground and the cameras came out. That small tattered rope was a direct challenge to our inner athletes, one we could not refuse in this lifetime. Dwayne was the first to climb. His long legs propelled himself perfectly up the wall testing the strength of the rapidly shaking rope. Fifteen feet up, when his sneakers began slipping on unsure footing, he decided to swing over the tiny streaming waterfall to dry rocks on the opposite side. Over that green crest we lost him to what he described as another ten feet of sloping rock. The rope held strong, indicating my turn. Deep gulp. With much more hesitation and slipping, I had no choice but to trust the rope, lean back, and walk my soaking shoes up the stream. All three of us made it to the top, overflowing with an exhilarated livelihood and deep gratitude to have shared such a stunning life moment together. Staring down into the dry cavern at our belongings, we shrugged and accepted that this climb had to be worth something big. The likelihood that our bags would get stolen didn’t seem as important as whatever that climbing feat of character was preparing us for. We hadn’t passed anyone since the beginning of the hike and decided to have faith in both humanity and the jungle gods to watch our things as we continued hiking.

The boulders alongside our path shrank in size as the sound of water grew louder. With slight elevating steps we felt the pressure of the air and magic change around us and the three of us rounded the last bend. If I thought the first waterfall of this hike was going to be the main event, I was sadly mistaken. The muddy trail changed into a field of fallen stones that I could only compare to the empty arena in Laura Croft’s tomb raids. This massive expanse of a green mountain surrounded us on all sides except for the direction that we entered from. In the center of this horseshoe shaped canyon, a pool of ancient water resided, covering the final resting place of countless fallen rocks. My gaze followed the narrow yet strong stream of splashing water that fed the pool, rising toward the seemingly endless summit. Standing underneath this majestic giant in awe, I was thankful to be a chiropractor. A full range of motion was necessary for my gaze to travel from its resting position down past my chest to reach its maximum height. My neck tilted back as far as possible as my eyes tried to adjust to the depth and sounds of disbelief escaped my fully open jaw. An awareness of our pettiness, our smallness, our insignificance rose within me as my eyes continued to scale upward. Without realizing it, I was seeking a source of this majesty, straining to catch a glimpse of the top that seemed to have an immediate opening to heaven; A height that implied our inability to ascend to that level of peace yet offered a comforting reminder of how close that accessible numen truly was

We profusely thanked Whitney that night at dinner as we explained our hike….what a wonderful recommendation the waterfall was. Confused and smiling, she said she had never seen the waterfalls that we described. She was so happy that we danced, posed, and swam under the chilling water of a brilliant waterfall but her hike had only planned for us to take a short quarter mile walk up a steep incline to look out over the ocean…a left turn for the less adventurous.

The last day of our trip was upon us and with a heavy heart, we hugged Whitney goodbye, all admittedly having developed a crush for her true heart. I felt like I was leaving my own sister on this island, so far away from the comforts and safety of my affection. This trip had surpassed my wildest expectations of a learning vacation. What we were learning was greatly enhanced by the interpersonal and natural connections we made while visiting. I’ve said this before about a teacher named Joy that I met in the woods of Arkansas and it applied perfectly to Whitney as well, “I didn’t know you could love a stranger so deeply.” I was entering a new world that continuously sent such gems into my life and had to acknowledge that the change may be stemming from my willingness to receive them now.

Had the universe been trying my entire life up until this point to do the same? How many life altering souls did I push away and refuse to accept as my teachers?

I would be ready for them now thanks to the attunement I received from Aloha.