Medicine Stories

 This blog began as a medicine story. Literacy has its benefits and stringing together imagination with the written word fills libraries. 

I’m experiencing one of those times when a good medicine story comes in very handy. My plant medicine is doing their job and I’m grateful! St Joan’s Wort ( also called St. John’s) along with Echinacea root tinctures ease the fever.

But it’s the rereading of 10 year old remedy that is so comforting. Dumpling Woman and her friends have been such delightful company in the duck bed.

http://cornsquashbean.blogspot.com/2015/07/dumpling-woman.html?m=0

If you link to that connection above and slip into one of my old blogs written as sequences of tale you might enjoy a sweet story. It may require finding your way through old school navigationals. Good luck, I think it may be worth it.

Three Sisters was fun to write and a practice of soulful remedy making that all storytellers hope catch you by the wrist and take you somewhere wonderful!!

Placeholders

 Pete and I have a county not far from where we live now which we can only name “placeholder.” Perhaps you have one of those on your personal life map?

What is a placeholder? Well, for me it starts with a faint but persistent math memory from grade school. Something about “0” holding a place in a subtraction lesson. Sound familiar?

The county we call our placeholder include a couple little towns in Skagit County in Washington state. These towns and the memories we each have marked months of separation: we lived apart during that time though in the same town. It was pivotal time in our relationship and over the past 18 years we revisit those places and find bits or chunks of of our individual selves that linger … holding a place in our memory or in the place’s themselves.

Yesterday’s experience with placeholder memories for me were more about being in the moment willing to savor a new recipe(for chicken pot pie specifically) after the surprise of its unexpected form!

Rather than living a metaphor I enjoyed a fresh version of now and I loved it! Yum. That’s progress. That old math problem takes on a nuanced meaning. Hmm. Zero can mean more than nothing.

Momona Makua

 My slippers are tucked beneath the table at my favorite library's computer. I am enjoying the air conditioned air on one of the last hot days of the season. It will be in the low 80's before the sun is pau with his daily work.

Years ago, in 1995, to be specific, I met an Aunty who would influence my life from that point forward. She became my kumu my teacher in a practice she called "Makua o'o" maturing adult, or elder-in-training. I was newly returned to the islands of my birth after twenty-five years in Mukilteo Washington. There was so much I had no idea I didn't know, though I knew I was home to begin again.

The practice of becoming kupuna or elder began when I followed Aunty Betty Kawohiokalani Ellis Jenkins to events and workshops she was facilitating. A retired elementary school teacher, "Aunty Betty" continued to teach after her years as a teacher of small children ended. 

Our initial meeting happened when we were doing training sessions with two different Ka'anapali Beach hotels, on the island of Maui. My cousin, also named Mokihana, sent me a message, "Maybe you should go meet this aunty. She's doing similiar work." The work was the sharing of the poi bowl, a contemporary version of a very traditional Hawaiian custom of setting aside any conflict or disagreements when the family came to the table to eat. Poi. The. Food. 

In more ways than one, the sharing and eating of poi is the sharing of values, connection, and genealogy. My journey of becoming an elder begun with Aunty Betty continues today.

In a few minutes I will be meeting with a friend and Executive Director of a non-profit organization committed to serving the needs of the BIPOC community of South Whidbey Island, where I live. My hope is to share that practice of becoming an elder. I am creating a ritual of new beginnings, and continuation ... a genealogy. 

This new practice will have a new name: a generous and plump name. MOMONA MAKUA. 

There is more to come, and conversations which will spread Aunty Betty's lineage with that of the BIPOC Community of Pamoja Place. 

Raspberry jam

 I’m sitting it out. Under the shade of Alder Leaf hula, I’m listening to a pot of water set to boil. 10 minutes of boil for 4 half pint jars of those raspberries we picked in July, mashed and stirred with low sugar pectin Pomona’s Universal Pectin and two cups of cane sugar.

I promised my grandson Carter and my son Christopher Kawika there’d be a batch of raspberry jam in their goodie box. 

Soon. Those goodies will board a plane snd cross from our island to theirs.

It’s been a long time between batches of homemade jams. Fingers crossed the kitchen goddess’s give their blessings!!❤️✔️💜

Lokahi

 My practice of ai aloha (eating aloha one day at a time) continues. Today is my Lokahi Day. I had a rough night with little sleep but a lot of art. My sketch book filleth!

“Saranam, Saranam…”

“Grief Gremlins”

“By any other name”

This quote parks on a blank page 

“It’s not easy to admit defeat and give in to that powerful foe, alcoholism, Yet that is absolutely necessary if we are to have sane, happy lives again.”

- Courage  to Change 9-2

Lokahi

Women’s Work

 This morning, the last of August and an ‘ole moon two witches chanted and walked the land. Prayers for guidance preceded. A bowl of pi kai ‘olena (salt water with turmeric) was readied. 

The water was yellow —the color of Haumea, the goddess of this planet, this earth. The source of potentialities.

The second ‘oli was chanted to gather the gods, and wrap the haumia the defilement to the ‘aina into a bundle and throw it away!

Then the two woman split the land one going east the other west sprinkling the yellow salt water at the edges and corners of the land to whom they are responsible.

Amama us noa.The work is done  the prayer is lifted.

AHONUI ... the long cord for fishing

 aho.nui

-from wehewehe.org

nvs. Patience; patient, enduring, long suffering; to tolerate. Lit., great breath. 

It's another hot August day on our island home. Fortunately for us, our simple life lived in the vardo and Quonset also include being able to keep driving Scout, our 2004 Subaru. She, "Scout" has been car and home for us over the years since we bought her in Hilo. In nearly everyone of my pule, my daily prayers, I am grateful for this car. Today I give thanks for her and the repairs we are able to pay for to keep us safe enough and cool: air conditioned air aid my long comprised lungs from the heat and smoke of environmental overload (Haumea's overload!)

Not far from our ke kuapa (the small space where we park on 'aina that covers a freshwater pond) I can drive to the library to compose story, print copies of my latest drawings and consider the color pencil or crayon I'd like to complete the mo'olelo wanting to express herself through me.

We Kanaka come from a literary history of long-standing. Once we learned how, we went all out to write the stories of our past, our present and our future. 

This Safety Pin Cafe post is a "fish hook" on the long cord or aho which also refers to the fishing line used to troll for fish. In the metaphoric story the hook could catch anything, or catch nothing. Over the long term, as fisherfolk must be patient if nothing else. That's where the second part of the word comes into play: "nui" means long term, big, over time. 

There is a new fish being drawn up from my na'au and my imagination. Stimulated by conversations with my mo'opuna who live in Kipahulu on Maui the drawing is inspiring a very delightful saga! Look for more details in the coming days and weeks. 

Here's a teaser: SUPER 'OHANA is the working title of the project and there will be lots of pictures to draw and string like a lei my grandmother and her cronies would be so proud to call ... family!!