Right now, as I type this, we have a lot of volcanic activity going on nearby. I feel it. The earth shakes, the air quality shifts; I am too far away to see the glow in the sky or to witness lava flowing across the road, but it is happening. This quickening of the energetics of the earth, the presence of tutu Pele, is part of my incredible experience living here in Hawaiʻi.
Conflict is growth trying to happen.
We are inspired by the creation of new land, where else is in the world is this happening? Awed by the magnetics of the energetic exchange, we feel major momentum and a collective waking up to focus of what matters most.
That magma which has been boiling underground is coming to the surface in varying capacities. Pele is present. Aʻa lava is chunky and sharp, incredibly hot and noxious. Pahoehoe is smooth and flowing. Fountains are shooting up to tickle the heavens. Peleʻs hair and tears are floating and falling. Ash soars high and spreads wide.
Pele in the relational field is powerful.
Why I am sharing this with you? Perhaps because we need to recall that energy of creation and destruction is within us all.
I ask us each to pause and pay attention.
- Where am I creating new boundaries, new terrain, new land?
- Where am I destroying existing structures (and is this necessarily a bad thing)?
Moving here from the Mainland, I was willing to leave behind a lot of “things,” destroying some of the existing structures of dominant culture, as I moved more fully into new terrain: simplified, intentional living, sharing resources with my in-laws.
My hair dye, nail polish, and underwire bras stayed behind, my hurriedness and impatience came with me.
The goddess Pele reminds me to slow down. Hustling to yoga on the beach a few years ago, I tripped on lava and cut up my foot and was on crutches for a month. I know, the irony of hustling to yoga… Pele speaks, I listen, humbly. No need hurry.
I am human; sometimes I lose my cool.
Yesterday, I erupted after a build up of pressure and underground rumblings. I recognized that underneath the eruption with my mother-in-law was an intention to be supportive, as well as a smidgen of fear, a dose of righteousness, and a dollop of dismay. (I also was hungry — I hadn’t eaten breaky or had my coffee and I was running late to get my son to the dentist.)
The noxious concoction flowed out of me, aʻa style, like the chunky, hot, sharp aʻa lava, despite my (best) intention to express loving concern. (The storyline is rather irrelevant.)
I raised my voice, cussed, turned away, and dismissed her experience. It was painful to us both. I caused more harm than good in that moment. Pele reminds me to recognize my vapors can be toxic, that I need space and air — and I need to slow down — most noteworthy so I don’t vaporize others or hurt myself.
The vent released built up pressure.
We danced awkwardly toward and away from each other, in a confusing array of fountaining detritus. Maybe we both felt hurt.
Space, breath, prayer, processing and a willingness to clean up my side of the wreckage enabled me to see that perhaps this was new earth being formed–a new boundary set with my relative.
I recall the basics of hoʻoponopono.
I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.
In conclusion, I offer this to myself and to my mother-in-love, in my prayers and in an email (even though we live together). Now I offer it to you. Give yourself space. Allow for forgiveness. Remember that conflict is growth trying to happen. See relationships blog for more on this.
Thank you, Pele.
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