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Look for the Light

Look for the Light

The presence of the full moon this week was beautiful. I loved how many of us took the opportunity to go outside in the stillness of the evening or in the quiet, predawn moments of the morning to gaze at the moon. 

 

It got me thinking about how humans always look for the light. “Look on the bright side” is a favorite saying of our optimistic friends. At the same time, many of us clamor to catch the last rays of sunset or the first rays of the sunrise. 

 

There are many of us, too, though, who sometimes struggle with looking for the light. Just this week alone, I’ve heard of two people who have put in their notice to leave their job, not because of the pay, not because of the work itself, but because they’re tired of being yelled at, either by customers or coworkers. 

 

Maybe we are collectively still grieving what we have lost during the pandemic; most of us in Hawai’i or with close ties to Hawai’i are grieving for Maui. 

 

Regardless of the reasons, I choose to hold on to hope and continue to look for light because there’s always something, a little spot of sunshine or the light of the full moon through the trees, that we can hold onto. 

Saving Space

Saving Space

It’s been a week—a week filled with holding gratitude and grief simultaneously while navigating the tasks of everyday life. So much has changed, and yet the day-to-day hasn’t changed. 

 

I’ve had multiple conversations with friends, colleagues, and clients about how we can best continue, how we can best say the right thing, how we can best move forward with big decisions about careers and callings, and the best thing I’ve been able to come up with is to make sure we are saving space. 

 

Space for the tears, for the laughter, for the hard conversations and the celebrations. 

 

In a world where we are all pressed for time, and information flows rapidly in less than minute-long sound bites, it’s easy to get caught up in it all. 

 

This morning I saved space. Space for the phone call from a loved one, space for the sunrise to greet me on my walk, and already I feel the day ahead is a bit more manageable because I’ve saved some space. 

Choose to see the good

Choose to see the good

On a walk this afternoon in the windy Waimea rain, I thought about my day and the choices I had made and how differently the day would have turned out had I not chosen to see the good.

My day consisted of two trips to the DMV and vehicle safety check station, internet and phone issues, client requests, and a nagging stiff neck from a tough night of sleep.

I’m usually the first to want to walk it off and head out the door at the end of the day. But today, it was a little harder to choose; it was wet, it was windy, and a warm cup of tea sounded pretty nice.

Even Kinsey gave me her trademark side-eye and sighed as I clipped the leash to her collar.

But I chose to walk anyway.

Because, as we all know, you can’t have rainbows without a little bit of rain. But what we sometimes fail to see is the spots of sunshine that we need too for those rainbows to appear.

This cut barbed wire on an old fence post stopped me today. It looked so gnarled and unforgiving.

But just beyond it was the beauty of a rainbow, and just like that, my eyes shifted their focus. I got to choose to see the good. And what a beautiful choice it was.

Your focus will determine your reality

Your focus will determine your reality

“Your focus will determine your reality.”

 

It’s been a week of forward-thinking for me, meticulous planning, and conversations with loved ones about paths forward. There have been many questions and remorseful sighs, and still, there is always hope.

 

I heard this week, too, that “your focus will determine your reality,” and it gave me pause. What is it that I’ve been choosing to focus on? The what ifs on the path of life, or the view directly in front of me?

 

Living in a beautiful place has its challenges, but on days like today, choosing to focus on this, my favorite rock set up against the bluebird skies of Waimea will most definitely give me the dose of reality I was looking for.

The Pivot

The Pivot

One day out of every week, I get to spend with Dayna Cole Wong of Naupaka Events & Weddings She is also a small business owner, so the time we share is invaluable on many levels. Each day I’m usually left with the gift of a lesson in business. Today was one of those days.

As with anyone who has cut their professional teeth working in hospitality, ours revolved around food plans.

 

We had planned on grabbing breakfast treats at our favorite food truck, but they were closed. Heartbroken, we pivoted and upgraded our standard coffee order at Starbucks to include some pastries.

 

Then, it was time for lunch. We had planned on our standard burrito order at the local taco joint, but heartbroken at the unseasonably warm temperature, we pivoted and ordered take-out salads instead.

 

Before we knew it, the afternoon was yawning in front of us. We thought it would be nice to get a sweet treat at McDonald’s since the local DQ had closed (talk about heartbreak…that’s another story for another day). After waiting in a long line, I turned away after being told their ice cream machine was down. Heartbroken, I called Dayna to inform her that I was coming back “a failure” when just then, I spied Burger King, “do you think they have ice cream?” I asked Dayna “go find out!” she said.

 

This post is not a lesson on where to get the best food in town, nor is it a poster child for healthy eating choices. What this IS, is a beautiful lesson learned in having the flexibility, the willingness, and the stamina to be able to pivot on a moment’s notice (and on an empty stomach, too!).

 

Cheers to all of you small business owners who are out there giving it their all every single day. May you enjoy the sweet soft serve helping of success like we did today!

 

How Can I Help?

How Can I Help?

As gatherings begin to return, I’ve found myself lately answering many questions about what I do.

 

My strategy is simple. First, I help my clients share their stories. Then, I ask them, “how can I help?” and we collaborate on goals and tactics.

 

Many people could look at this photo and focus on the barriers of the fence posts and the barbed wire. I choose to focus on the end goal, the green pastures, and the gorgeous shape of Holoholoku.

 

Are you getting caught up in the minutia and the obstacles in your way? Perhaps I can help with that. Give me a call, and let’s collaborate! 

Dodging Mud Puddles

Dodging Mud Puddles

 

Dodging mud puddles

 

As I write this, we are enjoying a very rare “Kona storm” a phrase coined by the old-timers to describe a heavy, consistent rain that approaches from the south (towards Kona) only occasionally and brings with it heavy rain that dances on the tin roof. It’s a delicious sound, this rare rain on the tin roof, and it is a sound that those of us who are lucky enough to have grown up in Hawaii have a true appreciation for.

 

My furry companion however has NO appreciation for this wonderful rain, in fact, we spent the better part of our walk this afternoon dodging mud puddles. 

 

She would do everything she could to avoid the mud puddles, at one point paying no heed to the ambulance blaring its siren as it drove by, or the out-of-town driver who was lost. Nope, she just wanted to avoid that mud puddle at all costs. 

 

Life has been that way lately. I have been focusing on the obstacles, the worst-case scenarios that “might” happen, the bad outcome that “could” happen, so much so, that my attention, (like my sweet puppy) zeroes in on the one thing I want to avoid most instead of the beauty of the rain, the smiles from strangers on the street and the warm bath in the kitchen sink (for one of us), that awaits.

 

Maybe you too have been doing your best to avoid a mud puddle. My advice? Look up, look around. take in a smile from a stranger, and if you end up a little muddy because you stepped in the mud puddle anyway? Well, that’s nothing a  warm bath in the kitchen sink can’t cure 😉

 

Happy trails…

Waiting

Waiting

When my sisters and I were younger, my parents would bring out an egg timer from the kitchen and place it on the counter every Christmas morning before we opened presents.

 

We would groan and roll our eyes as we knew what it meant; it meant that we would have to wait for a while after we opened each present to enjoy it until the timer dinged and we could move on to opening the next gift.

 

What is it about waiting that we dislike so much? “Please wait here until your table is ready; you need to wait; it’s not your turn yet.” 

 

We silently swear, “I can’t wait any longer!” when we are waiting in line at the post office, or waiting to see our loved ones, or waiting for the sun to rise after a restless night of sleep. We don’t like to wait.

 

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of waiting; it must be the season for it. Little kids are waiting and watching for Santa’s arrival. We are waiting on packages, on Christmas cards, we are waiting at the grocery store, and some of us are waiting for this year to be over.

 

It’s a lot of waiting, and it’s been driving me a little bonkers. That is until I changed the lens on my waiting.

 

What if the waiting is supposed to be enjoyed, is supposed to be spent in anticipation, in wonderment, in reflection, in the moment.

 

“Good things come to those who wait” is the adage. And what if cutting someone off in traffic and pushing your way to the head of the line wasn’t what was supposed to happen for you at all? That the waiting was the gift and the time given to you to reflect, to anticipate, and to appreciate?

 

So instead of exclaiming, “I can’t wait for this year to be over!” I’m going to wait, reflect on the goodness this year has brought, and reflect on the gifts that life has brought, and if I’m having trouble, I think I can dig up an old egg timer from the kitchen to help me. ⏲

Car Wash

Car Wash

I went to the car wash today.

 

The instructions said to stay in my car, keep the car in park, and stay in the car wash tracks. To stop when the red light went on and to go when the green light went on. That was it. That was all I had to do, and the car wash would take care of the rest.

 

I sat there enjoying my soft serve ice cream as the first droplets of water hit the windshield. The car was silent, with just the pitter-patter of the water on the sunroof. Then the large brushes approached from all sides, a storm of circular motion as the car rocked from side to side. It was loud and a little disruptive, yet I did nothing. But, of course, I didn’t have to do anything.

 

Instead, I stayed in my car, happily eating my soft serve, knowing that the car wash was doing what it was supposed to do. So I let the car wash do its job, and I did nothing.

 

It was a perfect metaphor for life lately. How easily we want to jump out of our car, out of our tracks, into the storm that is swirling around us to “help” someone else by offering unsolicited advice. How easily we make decisions thinking we know what is best just because we have seen it on a meme or a social media post.

 

I know nothing about car washes. I know absolutely nothing. But I know something about following directions and allowing those who know better to do their best. I am sure if the car wash technician needed any help at any time, they would have come into the car wash and asked me. But nothing was required; all I had to do was sit and enjoy my soft serve.

 

And what came of it? A sparkling clean car, a moment of serenity, and a life lesson that was almost as sweet as the soft serve.

Fighting the Fatigue

Fighting the Fatigue

When my sisters and I were younger, we would trek around town in our rubber boots purchased from Sure Save. We would play hard, climbing the old pepper tree in my parents’ backyard and race our bikes along country roads like this one. We would go and go and go until we heard the dreaded “time for naps!” coming from the house as my mom called us in. “But we’re not tired!” we would exclaim as we elbowed and kicked each other on our way through the front door.

 

Shouts of “stop touching me! “and “she started it!” and “quit looking at me that way!” would accompany us as we flopped onto our bunk beds. Our eyes heavy and yet fully open, we would exclaim that we weren’t tired and that we would NEVER fall asleep. 

 

Inevitably, we would, one by one, close our eyes “just for a second” as we listened to the cooing doves and drink in the smell of freshly cut grass drifting through the windows.

 

What is it about being tired that we fight so much? Like little kids, when someone says to us, “you look tired, you should rest, “we immediately say, “no, I’m not!” and take offense. 

 

So why do we fight fatigue?

 

There’s nothing wrong with closing our eyes; there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that we are tired.  Even though, as adults, we may not be going through growth spurts like we did as little kids, we are still growing intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally.

 

We still need time to sleep, to rest our eyes. We are all exhausted. Who isn’t completely exhausted?! 

 

Fighting the fatigue won’t make it better; instead, maybe we should fall into the fatigue, acknowledge the exhaustion, tame the tiredness, smooth the frayed edges. 

 

How do we do that? 

 

Well, when someone says “you look tired” or “this must be so exhausting, “you can say, “yes, I am tired, yes it is exhausting” and give yourself some grace.

 

After all, who doesn’t feel better after a nap?