Childhood is full of poetry, the faith in the word, understanding using our hearts. Childhood stories reflect this state of our being --- who we are at our core. I want so much to share this! And our witnesses to our childhoods, our siblings, how special these relationships are. Even years and years of staying out of touch doesn't change the fact that those are the people who witnessed who I am, their love created me, and I am grateful for that reflection. Our siblings-- our soulmates --- mirrors of ourselves, our DNA is the same 100%, we share the same blood, and it could be said that as spiritual partners, born of the same blood and born of the same spirit, we share the same path. These relationships are not like our marraiges are --- chosen partners who chose to at a particular moment in time, say "I do promise" I do, I do, I do, I do choose to walk step in step with you, our paths, from two merge and become one. How special these relationships are.
Who make up the stories of our childhood? Who are the main characters? The people who inhabit those tales, whose breath created the yarn which we pull out to weave for those we have chosen to replace them?
6.23.2007
Its a saturday and I am recovering from a hangover. These are details that belong in a diary not a blog. (Note to self). I'm new to this blogging thing. Sure, some people probably overuse the diary aspect of blogging, using it to spill their innermost guts and crap into electronic space. Me, I'm using this as a practical tool that I can use everyday, to sharpen my writing skills. In particular, I'd like to get more of a sense how my thinking in "I" sentences comes out on paper. I'm starting research for my PhD, fieldwork, and I am using autobiography method to write up my results. Obviously I want to get the right balance of voice. Blogging will help me during my fieldwork also, so I have to go to the computer and blogg, it will be like my fieldwork diary. It is good because I need to be reminded the public nature of my thesis writing --- that although it is autobiographical, that it is also a public document meant to be shared. Already my mind is tired today. That's because I got drunk last night, and the mind tends to shut down when it gets drunk...I have read about chakras, the energy points on the body, and it seems to me that its the lower three chakras that especially are affected by alcohol. Let's say other of mankind's older drugs (not the new synthetic ones) like marijauna or magic mushrooms, those are very much in the third eye chakra. Coffee, I think coffee feels like a throat and crown chakra. What the hell do I know? All I know is that I got in a fight last night while drunk. I smashed a glass cup and held it up to this guys chest, as I had taken his phone holding it for ransom because he tried to say that he didn't steal my ten dollars. I know he stole my ten dollars. And while it seems like an over reaction to break a glass and hold it to his chest, it was the principle of the matter. I laughed while I held the bottle in one hand and his cell phone in the other out of his reach while saying "Give me my ten dollars back and I'll give you your phone back!" This went on for about five minutes or longer. My friends I came with made him reach into his godamn pockets and he fished out 7.50, but the thing was that I had given him 10 dollars for a 2 dollar game of pool...but the pool table didn't even take dollars, it was a change only table, so I'm wondering where the hell did my paper money go??? That was the irrational thing about it. HE started the irrationality...I just followed madly up on it. I think the clubgoers outside thought it was funny. One guy was like "WOW" I guess NZ has never seen how titas fight. I was with some proper-raised Tongan girls. Tongan girls in the states are more wild. Everything in the States is more wild. me and NZ have nothin in common. I don't drink well and I don't sit and watch rugby well. That excludes me from about 98% of social activity in this country.
6.22.2007
Breaking IN
My name is Lea Lani. I was born in 1979, had an awesome childhood in the 80s, hit those rough and tumble teenage years in the straight crazy 90s, and since the millenium have been tumbling through my roaring twenties. Whew, I read in my astrology book that Saturn is returning to my natal chart right now...apparently that means a burning inferno and crumbling of ALL that was not working...I know that when the universe points me in a direction, that I better listen.
Lea: Goddess of canoe building one of her kinolau (body form) is Elepai`o-A little forest bird that guides to the proper tree for cutting down. Warns of tree being bad by landing on the tree and pecking on it, showing the wood is damaged or bugs in the tree.
Lani: Heaven, Sky
My name is my blessing. Naming is important, sounds create the universe entire. I read today that some people (1 in 200) see colors when they hear a sound. How trippy is that! If that were me (and it was the time I ate some LSD) I would do nothing but make sounds come out of my mouth and other people's. I would sit back and watch while the colors mixed.
"Now say it slowly!"
"Quicker, like a chop chop!"
Well, if I was a synesthete (for that's what they are called by the Scientists) I probably would be used to it...born with it, so it doesn't seem special. That's the thing about perception...its so subjective, how would we even figure out if we were a synesthete? And are there various levels of this mixing, blending, overlapping, or otherwise scrambling of the conventionally conceived (5) partitions between the sense apparatus? Gawd if only I could remember that LSD trip I took back the night before President George Dubba declared war on Iraq after 9/11. It felt like I was in a fishbowl that morning, and listening on the radio to the national anouncement. This was in Salt Lake, and if memory serves (which sometimes it doesn't) it was also the morning of the Sunday service for the LDS General Conference. Anyways, sugarcube, and wow, the afghan that covered me sitting on the couch was moving...not the afghan, but the colors that were running through it...and I perceived that all the colors in the room were liquidating like that, moving, moving, in all different ways, but to one rhythm you know?
Lea: Goddess of canoe building one of her kinolau (body form) is Elepai`o-A little forest bird that guides to the proper tree for cutting down. Warns of tree being bad by landing on the tree and pecking on it, showing the wood is damaged or bugs in the tree.
Lani: Heaven, Sky
My name is my blessing. Naming is important, sounds create the universe entire. I read today that some people (1 in 200) see colors when they hear a sound. How trippy is that! If that were me (and it was the time I ate some LSD) I would do nothing but make sounds come out of my mouth and other people's. I would sit back and watch while the colors mixed.
"Now say it slowly!"
"Quicker, like a chop chop!"
Well, if I was a synesthete (for that's what they are called by the Scientists) I probably would be used to it...born with it, so it doesn't seem special. That's the thing about perception...its so subjective, how would we even figure out if we were a synesthete? And are there various levels of this mixing, blending, overlapping, or otherwise scrambling of the conventionally conceived (5) partitions between the sense apparatus? Gawd if only I could remember that LSD trip I took back the night before President George Dubba declared war on Iraq after 9/11. It felt like I was in a fishbowl that morning, and listening on the radio to the national anouncement. This was in Salt Lake, and if memory serves (which sometimes it doesn't) it was also the morning of the Sunday service for the LDS General Conference. Anyways, sugarcube, and wow, the afghan that covered me sitting on the couch was moving...not the afghan, but the colors that were running through it...and I perceived that all the colors in the room were liquidating like that, moving, moving, in all different ways, but to one rhythm you know?
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