Action with Intent - My trip to Lana'i

Miniature Decorative Pineapple

Lodge at Koele - Lana'i Hawai'i

G. Cornwall - c.2012

"Seek to enjoy, not to possess." - Nana Veary

December has been a time for me to consider the differences and balances between having things and doing things.

In October of 2012, I found an incredible deal with Westjet and booked a ticket for the first leg of my journey from Victoria BC to Honolulu Hawai'i. I followed up with an island hopper  booking to Lana'i, Hawai'i. I had spoken with a friend on Lana'i and she graciously agreed to let me stay with her. My trip was set for December to celebrate my 51st birthday on Lana'i. I had attempted to put the trip together for my 50th and it hadn't worked out. I officially named this trip my 50 redux. 

Some people told me I was "lucky" to be taking this trip. While I know I am fortunate to live in a country where I have a job, a place to live and enough to eat, rest assured, I did not win this trip. What I did do was: work tons of extra hours, sold my art and photo cards for very reasonable prices and I liquidated family belongings that had been sitting in a cupboard because I did not like them, did not use them or both. I scrimped, saved, worked, planned, sold and bartered and, in December, off I went to Lana'i.

I saw old friends and met new ones. I hiked, toured the island with some very knowledgeable locals, ate local food, chilled at the beach, studied the island's history at the Lana'i Culture and Heritage Centre, took pictures as two of the kindest and loveliest people I have ever met renewed their wedding vows, was treated to two incredibly luxurious and delicious lunches with them at the Lodge at Koele and I treated myself to a few drinks and meals at the islands top-notch restaurants and hotels. 

As I mentioned earlier, for the largest part of my trip I stayed with a friend on the island but I also gave myself a birthday present of 3 nights at the Hotel Lana'i, where I indulged in the simplicity and camaraderie of  this island gem. 

On the Friday before my birthday, I headed down to Hulopoe to enjoy a day on the beach and in mother ocean. It was a day when the mother was at peace with her shores and all of her children rejoiced in her pristine, crystal clear beauty. The air caressed with a gentle, warm breeze like a kiss to the cheek of all life. 

I knew the dolphins were in the bay but I never chase them down so I set up my spot on the beach and went to change into my swim wear and got out my snorkel gear. I swam straight out for about 100 metres and, in no time at all, a pod of about 17 dolphins was headed towards me.  I was the only person in this part of the bay at this time and I held my place in the water to watch these beautiful creatures approach. I have to say, it is a little intimidating as it is impossible to tell if they are upset - they are always smiling. :-) When the lead dolphin was within several feet of me, we began swimming beside each other, my eyes to theirs with a silent communication of mutual acceptance and pure joy. It was then I noticed the two mamas with their babies swimming directly beneath them in perfect rhythmic unison with their mothers. It is the most beautiful experience I have ever had. I can never clearly articulate the emotion and feeling of this experience. It may sound odd but it was intense and perfect and simple. It was the best birthday present I could ever hope for and I will never forget. I can close my eyes and be right there again. The memory of it is as clear and perfect as the mother was that day.

None of the objects I sold could ever offer me the joy and beauty and perfection of those moments. I hope I will choose experience over objects, always. I choose to live, love, do, see and feel. 

Here are some of the pictures from my experience on Lana'i. a place I have been getting to know, like a lover, for twenty years. This is a glance at Lana'i through my eyes.

-Gillian Cornwall, December 30, 2012.

**All images and text on this blog are the property of Gillian Cornwall. Please notify me if you wish to use any. Mahalo.** 

 he'e nalu - Hulopoe

 he'e nalu - Hulopoe

 Karen and Alan's Pagoda, The Lodge at Koele

Orange hibiscus 

 

Kaiolohia

Me at Kaiolohia 

Looking to Maui from Kaiolohia 

The Cook Island Pines at sunset 

Christmas time in Lana'i City 

Amazing dinner hosted by my friend, Barb 

Lana'i Boat Harbour 

Fishing - Lana'i Boat Harbour 

In these hills, roam thousands of Axis Deer and Mouflon Sheep 

The old jail cells being spruced up for ...? 

The Lana'i Theatre used to play movies but has sat empty for a while now. 

Where you stay?  

Mouflon Horns

The Four Seasons Lodge at Koele 

On my day long tour with Bruce. Awesome. 

The shipwrecked WWII ferrous concrete hull Liberty Ship

Was given residence here after the war as an "economical" method of disposal 

Not for the faint of heart but a piece of cake for our guide, Bruce. 

The fearless and very knowledgeable guide, Bruce. 

The Ironwood Forest 

Heading down to the barge harbour 

The Three Sisters 

A lava tube. Sometimes people were put to rest in these after they passed. Those who placed them  would be the only ones who knew the whereabouts, so would plunge to their deaths to keep the secret safe .

The Barge Harbour 

Lana'i Oil Company 

The evening light on Lana'i is indescribable. 

A papaya tree at sunset 

Hulopoe from Four Seasons Manele Bay 

Hulopoe 

 The amazing slack key guitarist, Cindy Combs

Lana'i Coffee Works

Lana'i Culture and Heritage Center

My beloved Hotel Lana'i

Hulopoe from Four Seasons Manele Bay

Me

The state flower - Yellow Hibiscus

Even the butterflies come here to rest

Koele Ranch land

The approach to the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele

The fig trees at the Lodge at Koele

The Gardens at the Lodge at Koele

The rare occurrence when you would find me with a flower in my hair

The aptly named Bird of Paradise

Hulopoe

Pu'upehe

Pretty sure these were sand flea bites. Minimum 20 per leg and foot. Torture. 

Dining Room at Hotel Lana'i - decorated for Christmas.

A very content me.

In Lana'i city - the palm amid the pines.

University of Hawaii - Maui College - Lana'i Style.

Local Bananas - Nothing like it.

Corrugated tin is as much a part of my Lana'i as the beach at Hulopoe

Red ginger in my friend's garden.

My lanai room at Hotel Lana'i on Lana'i

Hau'oli La Hanau to me. 

Pink Plumeria

Hawai'ian

Orchid

Orchid

My favourite flower; my favourite scent

My strawberry daiquiri

Some people on Lana'i take their Christmas decorating to the max!

Very, very happy Gillian - aka Kila Nalu

From the airport - staying outside until the last possible moment

The gardens at the airport in Honolulu

See you next time, my Lana'i, my love.

What Did Your Parents Get for Christmas? - A Reprise

Did you ever ask your parents what kind of stuff they got for Christmas? I'm guessing it was simpler fare than that on the letters to Santa in this day and age:
Today: an Apple (not the fruit, the laptop)
Yesterday: an orange (yeah, just the fruit)

I guess what I'm thinking is: if you asked your folks what their hopes and dreams were around the holidays, they wouldn't have expected what kids do today and, I know, they also used to hike 10 miles to school and back in a blizzard backwards with no shoes while carrying their younger siblings...and had to chip the ice off their slates to take their notes in class. Before you laugh the old folks off and snuggle into your heated home with your laptop or your mobile and your full belly, yawning with the boredom of it all, take a moment.

Remember that it wasn't always this easy - even in your own family - and that it still isn't easy at all for the majority of the world's population. Be grateful for what you have and maybe consider asking for something really simple for Christmas. 

Think about how far that orange came that you're eating and who picked it.
Use your imagination. Be thoughtful. Interact with someone ...without a keyboard - you know, face to face, on the street.
Draw someone a Christmas card and tell them your life would be less rich without them. 
Play a game.
Use your imagination.
Write a letter to a friend and smile at a stranger.

I'm going outside to walk and breathe the crisp evening air in a city at peace.

Happy holidays and a huge hug to all the people that made sure I was still standing after the year gone by with all of its joys and sorrows. 

Love to you all! You mean the world to me.

Gillian

Embrace This Day

In This Sky

Gillian Cornwall

Today is a day for beginnings, not for endings.

Today is a day for love and peace, not for anger and violence.

Today is a day to smile from the depths of knowing,

not to weep a fresh ocean of emotion.

Embrace this day.

Let it flow through you. 

See it.

Be it.

Love it

and let it flow through you.

Do not let anyone make you question who you are. 

You are who you are.

You are perfect in the eyes of all that is. 

-Gillian Cornwall, August 2011.

This Sacred World

University of Victoria, Autumn 2012

Where is the peace I desire, if not in the arms of life itself? Where is my heart, if not in the universal hands, beating and quivering as delicate as a chickadee?

I am here, now, present and somewhat uncertain of what I am told I am missing. Though people may attempt to negate my joy or aim to tear me down, I bathe in my life light. I hold myself up to the sun and it is here I will remain while it shines.

I wander the woods and know the joy of the bounce of the forest floor in lieu of remaining chained to the desk from dawn to dusk. I do my job indeed, but I step away for there are no funds for which to buy life, no other path to beauty than the one I choose, no light that will shine brighter for me than my own. 

You will find me in Mystic Vale with a golden leaf floated from the heavens cradled in my palm and my face tilted toward the sun. 

At my best, I will be a guardian of the Mother Earth and staunch in my protection of her, for the purity and sustainability of the world and the lesson of how I lived in her arms is my only true and valuable inheritance to give.  

With love,

-Gillian Cornwall, November 25, 2012

Bowker Creek Trail

University of Victoria

November 2012

Time Spent

Saanich Farmland, October 2012

Tension and release are natural in all life but when the rhythms of the cycle are knocked askew, internal and external environments are impacted and it may take a conscious effort to initiate the release. 

Many of us have changed the way we live. We've added a step. In times gone by, we worked to produce that which we require for survival and enjoyment. There were fewer middle men and that which we did not, or could not, produce, we traded with our neighbours. If we wanted food we worked the land, cared for the animals and we fished. I know this was not easy. All daylight hours were spent in toil but evenings were spent in a certain quietude and peace that I think we may have forgone for the pursuit of others lives on TV and through the computer. This is not a judgement, merely an observation.

Now, we go to work to make the money to buy that which we need and desire. That which we desire often outweighs our needs and income so, in order to buy more we work more, decreasing the amount of leisure time available to simply enjoy life and that for which we toil.

I am trying to be more cognizant of the difference between need and desire and to be clear of the motivation behind the desire. I'm not saying desire is bad - not a chance! I want to be more aware. I want to be more present in the decisions I make around time. Perhaps it is a result of the amount of time I have already seen go by but I have realized that time, and the way I spend it, is what I most value. 

"There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy." -Ralph H. Blum

-Gillian Cornwall, November 18, 2012.

Love and Molecules - Lest We Forget

Eunice Audrey Jay(my Mother), Circa 1943

RIP

Imagine, my mom was driving a Velocette motorcycle around England in 1943. She was 19 then. She had a boyfriend who was a pilot. They used to read poetry to each other at Harrow on the Hill by Byron's tomb. They were in love. My mom was in the ATS at Biggin Hill fighter station where her boyfriend, Rick, was posted. They lived fast and true to their hearts. There was no time to waste by not feeling, blocking and worrying if it was right. Life was so tenuous - up for the lottery every moment as planes fell from the sky, bombs fell from the sky and buildings crumbled around people daily. The world was at war and nothing was forever. There was only the moment in which the truth existed.
Rick was shot down. Killed.

In 1948, my mother married my father. They had four kids, moved to Canada from England twice, started their own business, and divorced in 1975. My mother continued to work to support the two children she still had at home. She created a new career for herself and kept my brother and I in school, in good clothes, with enough food to eat and the occasional vacation and special treat. She did well by us although she was sad - she had lost a part of her self in the process of all this.

At 58 years old, she died of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease); robbed of her retirement and her chance to go to Europe and explore the arts of the countries she had spoken of so passionately over the years.

Her wish was to have her ashes taken to Byron's tomb to be spread in the place where she remembered her passion, her love and her truth. This was done. I hope that my mom and Rick's molecules are dancing together still.

Live, love, be brave.

The Tear by Lord Byron

When Friendship or Love our sympathies move,
When Truth, in a glance, should appear,
The lips may beguile with a dimple or smile,
But the test of affection's a Tear:

Too oft is a smile but the hypocrite's wile,
To mask detestation, or fear;
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soultelling eye
Is dimm'd, for a time, with a Tear:

Mild Charity's glow, to us mortals below,
Shows the soul from barbarity clear;
Compassion will melt, where this virtue is felt,
And its dew is diffused in a Tear:

The man, doom'd to sail with the blast of the gale,
Through billows Atlantic to steer,
As he bends o'er the wave which may soon be his grave,
The green sparkles bright with a Tear;

The Soldier braves death for a fanciful wreath
In Glory's romantic career;
But he raises the foe when in battle laid low,
And bathes every wound with a Tear.

If, with high-bounding pride he return to his bride!
Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear;
All his toils are repaid when, embracing the maid,
From her eyelid he kisses the Tear.

Sweet scene of my youth! seat of Friendship and Truth,
Where Love chas'd each fast-fleeting year
Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd, for a last look I turn'd,
But thy spire was scarce seen through a Tear:

Though my vows I can pour, to my Mary no more,
My Mary, to Love once so dear,
In the shade of her bow'r I remember the hour,
She rewarded those vows with a Tear.

By another possest, may she live ever blest!
Her name still my heart must revere:
With a sigh I resign what I once thought was mine,
And forgive her deceit with a Tear.

Ye friends of my heart, ere from you I depart,
This hope to my breast is most near:
If again we shall meet in this rural retreat,
May we meet, as we part, with a Tear.

When my soul wings her flight to the regions of night,
And my corse shall recline on its bier;
As ye pass by the tomb where my ashes consume,
Oh! moisten their dust with a Tear.

May no marble bestow the splendour of woe
Which the children of vanity rear;
No fiction of fame shall blazon my name.
All I ask – all I wish – is a Tear.

October 26 1806

Edward Jay(my uncle)

RIP

Flow

Buddha - Hawaii 2006

Let the love flow through you.

Do not attempt to hold it for questioning.

All will be well.

Walk the path of love rather than the path of fear.

Give what you have to give freely and without expectation.

Make way for those you love to follow their paths without impeding their journeys.

Hold up a light for them when they are in their darkest hours.

Hold up a mirror when they need to see their beautiful perfection more clearly.

Love freely.

This is a good job.

This is a good life.

This is a beautiful life.

All is well.

Blessings to all.

Love to all.

Love and blessings gratefully received.

-Gillian Cornwall, August 25, 2011.

Forest Walks, Salmon Run

"Where love and joy have visited, there exists heaven."

Gillian Cornwall

Scent of pine

and

Spinning maple

on the winds

crimson one side 

white-pink the other

Traveling tree to soil

the swan song

A river grows

in the gulch

below

autumn rains

housekeep its bed

for salmon's journey home

They will run red

run rampant

run wild

not knowing the fate

befallen

their farmed friends

Autumnal cries

eagles in aeries

await post-coital fish death

freshly battered

from their fight

back

to breed

to die

proud warriors

While beneath the pebbles

new lives begin

in their watery worlds

What life is this?

In this forest deep

my soul can sleep

where all is simple

where life is sweet

-Gillian Cornwall, c. October  28, 2012

Breathe. Smile. Live Joy.

Birch on Beach
Salt Spring Island
c.2011

Olympic Range at Dusk
c. Gillian Cornwall

It's in the everyday, that's where we find it.          

In the beauty of the

changing sky,

                                                                                                        

Autumn Sumac in Fairfield
c. Gillian Cornwall

the colours in the autumn leaves,

swirling to the still-green grass below and the freshness of the wind that carries them.

Sky Diver - Oak Bay tea Party
c. Gillian Cornwall

It's in the pure perfection 

of the existence

of each day,

the appreciation of life itself; 

that is the holy grail, the golden egg and the key to all joy.

-Gillian Cornwall, October 19, 2012

Lessons from the Earth

Saanich Peninsula

with Mount Baker in the distance

Gillian Cornwall c. October 2012

October. I wait, for time brings change regardless of how staid in my ways I have become. I reach forward into the black unknown but it does not bring light. It's 50/50 whether I will grasp onto something and there remains the chance that I will not desire that onto which I have taken hold. I retreat in fatigue for, if I am not to know, then I shall rest back and wait. "All is well child of the earth, all is well."

The fruit of summer pushes to the surface as the nudge from the harvest moon loans a hand to the belaboured farmer. There is goodness and understanding in the nature of things. I turn to the earth, the ocean and beyond; the mother teaches me well and provides. I will love her and care for her well in return. 

I let my faith lie in my self, embedded in my goodness. I light a candle in my heart in every dark place. I learn to sit and be at peace with what I do not know or do not understand. I learn to be kind and gentle and joyous for, above all else, I am blessed with the gift of life. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. October 2012

Saanich Farmland

Gillian Cornwall, c. October 2012

My Perestroika Path

Cowichan Valley, c. 2010.

"Perestroika means overcoming the stagnation process, breaking down the braking mechanism, creating a dependable and effective mechanism for acceleration of social and economic progress and giving it greater dynamism." -Mikhail Gorbachev

Disappointment. It's hard. This week I was told that I was unsuccessful in a job competition at my workplace. I've aimed towards it for five years - learning, growing, building self-confidence and strength. The micro-team within which I work has undergone perpetual change in this time and I am the longest standing member. I am at the base of the pay and institutional power ladder within the unit. 

I was very well-prepared for my interview and I was told I performed very well yet they selected someone they see as better suited for the position. "Ouch", I say, but I know their decision is not about me; it's about their perceptions and wants. 

So what can I do? I can only be the master of my own actions and reactions. It does hurt that I was not chosen. I know and work closely with everyone on the panel. I know the person they selected. I know I would do an amazing job had I been selected for the role. I know I enjoy and care about what I do and how it reflects up on my employer, my teams and the client base. I know the money would have changed my life. It's hard to work in a city where it is nearly impossible to survive on your own - even if you hold a decent job. I know how grateful I am to have a job, a home and food because I have gone without these in the past. I've been beaten on the streets of Toronto while people passed by - simply because of my sexual orientation; I've been denied employment because of it too. I've not been able to go to my own home because of an alcoholic and abusive partner. I've gone hungry while living with illness and poverty. I've survived this and more and healed from it all because I wanted to be better and stronger and able to continue giving to society in a meaningful way. I was fortunate enough to be able to access positive and useful counselling - sometimes using every available cent to pay for it all in order to be well and strong.

I am an absolute powerhouse of love, intelligence and resilience ...and I didn't get the job. Yes, I'll get over this too but, I have to tell you, it wears a person down at times.

I'd like to believe it'll get easier and, in the end, I'll be seen, valued and rewarded but, at the end of the day, it comes down to me and I know who I am. I will react to this job misfortune with truth, grace and strength and know that I cannot make people see or value me the way I want - I can only do this for myself.

So I will continue to work well, to strive towards personal greatness and know that a panel review of my employment skills in an hour-long question and answer and a forty minute written test does not reflect my worth. I will continue to care for myself and my needs and follow the advice given to me by a dear friend, Mary-Catherine Weymouth, about 35 years ago:

Comes the Dawn

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning 

And company doesn't mean security,

And you begin to understand that kisses aren't contracts

And presents aren't promises.

And you you begin to accept your defeats

With your head held high and your eyes open,

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

You learn to build your roads

On today because tomorrow's ground

Is too uncertain for plans, and futures have

A way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine

Burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate

Your own soul, instead of waiting

For someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure,

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth

And you learn and learn ...and learn

With every goodbye you learn.

-Veronica Shorffstall, 1971.

And so, I say goodbye to that opportunity; I learn from it and I move on with my head up, my eyes open and with a good heart on my own perestroika path.

-Gillian Cornwall, October 6, 2012.

Autumn - giving thanks.

Pumpkin Perfection
c. Gillian Cornwall

 This is a perfect late September day. The morning air cool as a reminder of the harvest days ahead. I throw my mind one hundred and fifty years to the past and envision myself on pastoral lands and villages built of the the stones dug from the fields by which they stand. 

Simpler times are what I crave, time spent in a kitchen preparing food for the winter months - a pot of soup set upon the stove, bubbling with the goodness picked steps from the cottage door. I know I've idolized it and it was work, hard work then, but was there not more time, more direct contact with our needs and survival? I want to go right to the farm for the food upon my table but the journey to the farm has become a treat, a special occasion, an adventure too far without a car so I wait for the times when I will be taken there and I dream of the land, the red leaves of the blueberry bushes in the distance and the song of the sheep and the cattle. I dream of the sensation of the cool, earth-damp squash or potato in my hands, fresh from the ground below my feet. 

It is autumn and I recognize the gifts from the land. Fill my glass with BC wine and I will lay a dish before you replete with the wonder of this place, my home.

-Gillian Cornwall, September 25, 2012.

The Blueberry Fields of West Saanich
c. Gillian Cornwall

Undergrowth

Hawaii - 2006
(click image to enlarge)

This is a poem about instinct and letting go. It's a reflection of our capacity to survive and engage in pleasure that we must have had as a full time job before the things of man shifted how we function, before we industrialized to make our lives easier. We have traded the full time job of working for survival for "paid work" so we can exchange money with others to provide our food and shelter and protection. We work so we can play and touch base with our instincts of survival on our vacations by going camping, visiting the natural world. We've added a step because it made it physically easier for us but has it only complicated our worlds?

Wet

steaming 

jungle

desire soaked 

anticipation

prowling territory

collective spirit

instinct

sparking

licking wounds

watchful

awake

thick with life

-Gillian Cornwall

Connections

Beddis Beach, Salt Spring Island

c 2011

A month has passed since the death of my brother and I have been walking the path of grief with as much personal truth as I have. On this day, I reflect on time and draw on work from last year and another loss:

   "What do our lives owe to the spirits of those who have passed? What do the living owe to the dead? Does memory, fading memory, suffice? Time delivered at a graveside? Conversations into the beyond?

   What is it that could possibly be enough to tell a loved one that we care, that we notice the absence of their physical being, that we feel a hollow place where they once rested within us?

   You cannot be replaced with something else, not with actions nor words nor tributes. All I can do is to open myself more, to let that universal energy flow through me and know, in this one act, we are united eternally."

-Gillian Cornwall, written on June 24, 2011.

Miracles

Philip and Eunice Cornwall, Muskoka Autumn

Circa 1979

We want miracles.

We have miracles:

in each breath

and smile

between strangers,

with every blazing,

red leaf

that dances

on the autumn breeze

before coming to rest

on the still-green

summer lawn.

What is it you need

beyond the potential

of your eyes opening

to a new day?

For therein lies the miracle,

the potential for creation

of love

and beauty

and kindness.

Dear life,

you are my miracle

and I am grateful.

With love and blessings to all.

-Gillian Cornwall, September 9, 2012.

For Beauty's Sake - A Love Poem

This piece is a considerable departure from last week's.

I needed to write something joyous this week, something passionate and beautiful and joyous, so I have written this poem about love, passionate love, purely for the sake of the beauty found within the state. I hope it brings you joy; after all, perhaps we owe our greatest debt to joy:

Your lips brush the curve of my ear
Your soft voice vibrates
on the warm breeze from the south

You are carried
over the water
a glimmer on the arched back
of the spinner dolphin

You heard my call
and arrived with time and space
to lay me down
on the warm sand
beneath the coconut palm
shivering above us

This old tree can hold our fears
so touch me now my love
for I know the ache
of a space once filled with you

Replenish my body with yours
your touch
Read the story upon my skin
Read between the lines upon my face

Write your language upon mine
a page or two
in your book of life

Write upon me
indelible love
language only
listened and learned
between two halves of an hour glass

You fill me
and I fill you
Back
Forth
across time

We break the rules
We break the glass
We become one 

with the rest

-Gillian Cornwall, August 28, 2012.