Video Podcast 6 : My BFF Speaks

I am here to share the collective story of humanity. Every single person we meet and greet has a story that defines them.

I spent my birthday weekend with my BFF in Maryland and thought it was a perfect opportunity to get her in front of my camera to tell her story. People are so interesting. Life experiences shape us and mold us into who we are in every moment. I know her very well - her hurts, her trials, her childhood, her broken hearts, her joys, her triumphs. I know how far she's come and the hurdles she's overcome to get to where she is. It is no small feat. We have all traveled tough roads. The way we overcome the trials and elevate ourselves is to be celebrated. 

I will always see the best in people, at least I will always strive for that. When I hear someone's story, even if it's painful, I see how it has changed them and made them better. Even my own story of my life is fraught with broken hearts and yet, everyday I want to love and be loved. A broken heart will never stop me from giving love. And the energy that comes when you meet someone special cannot be manufactured. It's either there or it's not. 

I am, without apology, a hopeless romantic. 

I believe that everything is beautiful and everything has purpose. 

I believe that people are good.

I believe that everyone is capable of doing everything their heart desires.

I believe that the hurt we experience pushes us to be better and more compassionate.

I believe that love is every human soul's deepest desire.

I believe that love will find me again. Whole and complete.

And though I miss the loves that have left my life, I anticipate the beauty of the love that waits for me, that is searching for me too. The most beautiful sentiment I received on my birthday was posted on my FaceBook page.

"Happiest Birthday to this Tender Roni! 

You have taught all of us who know your heart 

how to be fearless in love."

Tender Roni was my "thing" in high school. I was a Bobby Brown fan and I used to say, "My name is Roni, Bobby's heart belongs to me." I would write it all over my school books and all my doodling from high school. But her perception of me... that I am teaching people to be fearless in LOVE. That's me! All day! 

I cannot say if my current love interest will break my heart tomorrow or in 13 years (like my ex did) but I am fearless. I am not afraid of the broken heart that may come in the future because I am going to cherish every single moment for as long as he will be mine. And I will not stop my heart from feeling the way that it does because he might break it in the future. No. I choose happiness now, without fear, without apology. And if this happiness extends into forever then so be it. Whatever troubles may come our way, I am fearless and I will stand by him through every storm and every joy. Love is!

I Wanna Tell Our Story

The story I want to tell here and in my coming video podcasts will probably be the collective story of all of humanity.

Ups.
Down.
Sadness.
Joy.
Discovery.
Struggle.
Triumph.
Grief.
Happiness.
Fear.
Love.
Sweet Love.

We all share similar experiences. Our cultural traditions, our familial relationships, our upbringing, our religious and political affiliations uniquely colors our experiences so that we handle them differently. But at the core of the human condition, we share the same search for happiness and how to connect to the world outside of our experience.

Whenever I meet someone, I like to hear their story. Most people have a spiel already created in their mind. It's their go-to summary of who they are. Mine always starts with who my parents are. In Hawai'i, and probably in all Pacific Island groups, we search for our connection so that we can relate to each other and that starts with, "Who's your family and where are you from?" The theory of six degrees of separation is all too true in Polynesia. No matter where I find myself in the world, I will always know someone who knows someone who knows someone and we connect.

I am a Pacific Islander. My mother is Samoan/Swedish from Vaitoloa, Western Samoa and my father is Hawaiian/Chinese from Kaneohe, O'ahu, Hawai'i.

I reside in South Carolina right now. I moved here in November 2017, just over a year after a very seamless and quick divorce. My ex and I were together for 13 years before we called it quits. That certainly colors my life right now. That event has surely changed me and forces me to look at my life with new awareness. And I am here to tell that story; to talk about the lows and the triumphs of overcoming grief. Sometimes I wake up in tears. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep. Maybe it's loneliness and not knowing why my marriage fell apart and maybe it is the uncertainty of moving forward without my best friend. I truly considered my ex my best friend. The way we bounced ideas off each other and laughed and had good times. The way we worked so well as a team. The way we held each other up. These are things I think of when I miss him. I miss that connection. I miss that feeling of knowing that when I go home at night, someone is waiting for me. No matter how hard family and friends try to fill that void, it is not the same thing.

Here I am at the midpoint of my life forced to reinvent who I am. In the year from when my ex and I split to the moment I left the islands, I did a whole lot of soul searching. I continually analyzed the condition of my life. In my mind, I asked the following questions:
What will make me happy again?
How can I live my best life?
How can I change the circumstances of my life so that everything I do is intentional and not a reaction to outside forces?

So here we are. I am going to tell that story!

Just One Of Them Dayz

This PMS thing just drains the heck out of me. I don't know how we, as women, do this all of our adult lives. It seems to get worse as I approach menopause or maybe I'm menopausing? I don't know. It's just so taxing and draining from the crazy food cravings to the cramps, the headaches, and the damn mood swings. Sorry for whoever has had to deal with me today. I have not been a happy camper.

Monica's 90's R and B anthem, Just One Of Them Days, rings truer now than it did back then for me. The older I get, the worse it seems to get. And then once the "event" arrives all the mood swings are gone and the stupid headaches and food cravings just magically disappear. The cramps will still be there though.

Some days I'm not sorry but today I am. I have been a little mean and grouchy and just plain moody. If I could, I would crawl into a cave for the next week until this "storm" passes. I feel restless but really I need to just chill this weekend and stay in bed all day long, write, watch some good movies, and just kick back.

A certain someone was heavy on my mind this morning. I like to think that I was on his mind also but I don't know if we still have that connection or if he thinks I'm a flake. I don't know but I am good where I'm at and don't need to complicate my life by reaching out. 

Thanksgiving Weekend I hung out with my two "nieces" from back home, Penina and Pu. They are both in college near me and I was so happy to have them. We're in the store getting snacks for our pending movie night and I am grabbing oreos and ice cream and chocolate cupcakes. Of course, it's obvious that the food cravings are taking over and we have a good laugh about it. While we're riding in the car Pu asks me if I heard the song, Time of the Month by Swiss. We find the song on Amazon Music Unlimited and I just about die laughing at the lyrics. The catchy reggae-esque chorus repeats:
It's the time of the month
When my baby goes crazy
Out of her mind
And she's telling me she hates me
I give her a little time
Cause in a few days she'll be fine

I guess it's a universal experience for straight men who deal with us crabby women at that time of the month. I did go ape this morning and I apologized for it. All should be well, right? Nope... I don't feel better and I just want to disappear for a week. Ugghhh... My boss is going to be out of the office until next Wednesday. Can't I just escape to Baltimore or Dallas for the week? Oh well -- it is what it is.

I hope I feel better tomorrow.

So Fragile So Broken

I am going through such a range of emotions in the writing of this novel. This is the longest I have stuck to the writing of my own novel. Projects that I have done as a "ghost writer" have been simple because the subjects are usually things that I am so disconnected from. However, the writing of this novel is forcing me to dig deep and feel emotions that I have buried for so long. It is very therapeutic to feel these things and at the same time gives me an awful remembrance of the hurt I have experienced. As much as I say I love to be in love, I think it's mostly to avoid having to feel these strong emotions of pain and suffering and of loss and longing. Maybe one day I will skip having to be so melancholy and on the verge of a depressive break down. My feelings of happiness from last week are lost on me today. I hope tomorrow will be warm and that the joy I felt just a few days ago will return.

I cannot continue this manic feeling of highs and lows and I surely don't want to pull anyone into this crazy roller coaster. I hate this and yet the tears that I shed are like drops of pain leaving me. I wish I didn't have to go through these emotions but I understand that this is part of my healing. I honor the lessons I have learned and I cherish the fact that I love so deeply and so complete. And I hope that one day someone will come along who can appreciate the depth of my soul and how much devotion and love I am capable of giving.

I started a post several months ago, after my divorce was complete. The post is called "Hashtag Perfect Man." In it, I talk incessantly about what the perfect man for me looks like. Every woman has different ideas on this. As I was reviewing the post, I am surprised at how lengthy it is and so specific. And it details things that are so surface and shallow and so unlike me but I really wanted to create the perfect guy in my minds eye so as to attract exactly what I had envisioned. I have not completed the post because I have not included the things of the heart. It's like I'm afraid to outline the things that will care for my heart, afraid that if I dreamed that big dream no man could ever fit that tall order. Moving forward, I cannot compromise the things that are most important to me and that is that someone will appreciate my heart and the depth of my soul. That my devotion to him will never be taken for granted. That my tenderness will never be used and stand unreciprocated. I don't think I am a high maintenance woman. I am definitely down to earth but not high maintenance. I do require a lot of attention, someone that will always think of me and show it in his actions.

There's a Jonathan Butler song called, Take Good Care of Me. The first time I heard it I was a pre-teen. Late 80's time frame. The lyrics have always been so beautiful to me. I don't know why I have always identified with the idea that I am a broken-hearted girl but I have. Perhaps my energy attracts all this pain and loss. I would not be surprised if that is the case. When I attended the Maxwell concert this past November, as we exited the arena and walked to the car my date asked me to sing a song for him. I selected this song. It was such a beautiful evening. I was feeling fantastic and euphoric at all the experiences of that particular weekend but especially that evening. It was so close to perfection where I felt whole and loved. The magic and the electricity of it all will never be forgotten. And even with all that magic, I know my heart is so afraid to trust again. And I don't want to be bitter and resentful but I think that maybe lonely is better than falling truly, madly, deeply in love again. I cannot experience anymore heartache. I don't want to.

I don't want to push away true love but I am so fragile and so broken. And even though I pretend to be strong and I constantly use the hashtag iStillBelieveInLove, do I? Do I believe that my heart really has the capacity to love again? I can't even call it right now. I am so afraid of being vulnerable and allowing anyone into my private agony. And I don't want it to be agony for long. One day I hope that I will triumph over this sadness and live in that space where joy reigns. I spend so many mornings in tears as I wake alone in my bed. So many nights longing to be held as I fall asleep and wishing that my bed was not empty. Somehow my life is going on, one day at a time but I wish I could skip over all this heartache. I wish I had the resolve to say that tomorrow will be better but I will settle by just saying that I will try harder to let go of the pain. Maybe one day someone will crack through this hardened heart that is longing to be soft again.

Something Always Brings Me Back To You....

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here ‘til the moment I’m gone

Hold me without touch
Keep me without chains
Never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

Set me free, leave me be
I don’t wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall
Just the way I’m supposed to be
And you’re on to me, all over me, oh

You love me ‘cause I’m fragile
When I thought that I was strong
But you touch me for a little while
And all my fragile strength is gone

Set me free, leave me be
I don’t wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall
Just the way I’m supposed to be
But you’re on to me and all over me

I live here on my knees
As I try to make you see
That you’re everything I think I need
Here on the ground

But you’re neither friend nor foe
Though I can’t seem to let you go
The one thing that I still know
Is that you’re keeping me down
You’re keeping me down

You’re on to me, on to me and all over
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long

Letting Go... A Rambling of Thoughts

A couple of weeks ago, I buried my uncle. A man I considered to be my second father. **sigh**

A couple of days ago another uncle passed -- so sudden.

Today, they found my cousin's body at the bottom of a famous cliff.

I don't quite know what to make of it all. Just a year and a half ago, my mother left this world also. I can't help feeling a little envious of the people that have gone on from this life and are moving toward eternity. That's where my mom is, right? Isn't she out there in the great universal heaven where we are all fated to go some day?

Hearing the news of my cousin missing since Thursday was a shocker. We weren't very close but I always used to think it was so sweet that every time he saw me he would invite me to one of his singing gigs around the island. Apparently, from all the Facebook posts from friends, he invited everyone to his gigs. LOL. Someone reported him missing. The police found his car and soon after they found his body at the bottom of the cliff.

I don't quite know what to make of all the death around me. Should I feel happy and hopeful that someday I will meet them again? I feel like life is starting to be about letting go. All the different stages in our lives are about letting go of the past to embrace what's ahead. I used to think I was really good at that. As I age, I'm getting less and less good at letting go.

Most times I wish things could be just as it was at my happiest moments -- feeling my parent's love; seeing my first niece come into this world; seeing my husband for the first time; seeing the light in my baby brother's eyes when he came into our lives; allllll very magical moments that I wish I could experience in every single breath that I take.

When we buried my uncle before Thanksgiving, as I said my last tearful goodbye, I only thought of my mother on the other side. I miss her so very much and I wish I could see her and talk to her and hear her voice again. I don't think I will ever let her go and I don't want to. I do however want to let go of the idea that she has died. I can let that go and be peaceful in the fact that our energies will meet again and we will put aside the ramblings of this world and trade it for an eternity of endless living.

LABELS

I remember hearing a podcast of Oprah interviewing Wayne Dyer. For those who are not aware of who Wayne Dyer is, I encourage you to look into reading one of his books. He has several dozen out. Maybe even YouTube him or start with the free podcast of the interview I referenced above.

In the interview, Wayne explains how he followed the wisdom of the Tao for an entire year. I thought it was very engaging. SIDE NOTE: my most favorite book that he wrote is The Power of Intention. It was wayyy deep to where I had to digest the book, one chapter at a time. Like, a chapter per week.

For the purposes of this post, I focus in on something Wayne Dyer said is the first principle in the Tao. In attempting to explain God, the Tao says that once it is labelled or given a name, it ceases to be God. Over time, that simple thought has shown up in my life many times.

Does humanity need to label everything?

Once we label ourselves, we tend to take on that persona.
"I'm gay."
"I'm heterosexual."
"I'm Jewish."
"I'm Muslim."
"I'm Mormon."
"I'm Black."
"I'm Polynesian."
"I'm Chinese."
"I'm Atheist."
"I'm Republican."
"I'm a stay-at-home Mom."
"I'm homeless."
"I'm unemployed."
...and on and on we label ourselves.

Along with the labels come the pre-conceived and pre-determined roles that society has developed through the mainstream media.

Authentically, stereotypes are not who we are. We are not LABELS. We are a part of the consciousness in the universe or as I prefer to say, we are a part of God.

I am not the labels that may have been placed on me by an observer.
I am not a sinner nor am I saint.
I am not obese nor am I too thin.
I am not a victim nor am I a bully.
I am not diseased.
I am not mean.
I am not angry.
I am not possessive.
I am not hurt.
I am not evil.
I am not a label.

I AM that I AM.

The Need to De Stress

I told myself that I would blog at least three times a week this year. I have failed miserably in this area.

Writing is something I love to do. My diary has also suffered from my lack of desire to sit down and right. One of the ways I destress has always been writing. Now, in one of the most difficult times of my life, I have yet to sit down and sort it all out. In my 20's and part of my 30's, I used alcohol and cigarettes to ease my pains. It was definitely a way for me to relax and slow down and get my mind off the world. That is probably one of the biggest reasons why I think of my former life so often.

When my ex-husband and I finally parted ways after being separated for 2 years, my normal routine was to drink as soon as I got off work. And I didn't just have a beer or a cocktail, a meal, and call it a day. NOPE. A dear friend and I would turn the cocktail and meal into a party even if it ended up just being us at the house. We would drink, drown in our sorrows a little then call some guy friends that we had met over the weekend. LUSH. Plain and simple, we were LUSH.

I often think about the rush I got from the alcohol. The feel-good, feel-invincible, feel-unbreakable, feel-alive feeling -- I miss that. Though I could never and will never characterize myself as being depressed, if I ever did feel depressed, I imagine that it would feel like how I've been feeling lately.

I miss my moms, no doubt. But it's not just the missing her that leaves me in a funk. It's also the aftermath of her leaving. The aftermath consists of the following:
1. My father, the lonely widower.
2. My two young brothers - one just turned 18, the other just turned 14.
3. My duties as a diligent and dutiful daughter has left much to be desired by my husband.
4. Having to take over the duties of paying the bills for the household;

I'm kind of burnt out and I have no outlet anymore. I don't feel sorry for myself but I do feel a little STUCK.

I have my own dreams and desires to do big things. Big, for me, at least. There are things that I'd like to do that are just for me. Thus, I think of the alcohol and the backyard barbecues and the sweet release that comes from destressing.

What to do? What to do?

Thoughts of Her

The thought of my mother pops into my head on many occasions. It will be in random moments when her memory is least expected.

In a sea of Red at a Kahuku High School football game

While playing sudoku on my phone

Looking at a Facebook picture that I uploaded several weeks ago that my father commented on saying, "No one mourns her loss more than me."

Looking at an unkempt yard

Looking at an immaculate kitchen or a spotless living room

I miss her.

I miss her everyday and it seems like I miss her more as time passes.

Things that she's taught me seems to make complete sense now. While she was here, I seemed to fight against her wisdom and logic.

She lives on in me in a way that I thought I would never appreciate. All her countless hours of tireless, patient teaching has affected me so profoundly.

These past few days, I've been fighting a cold. When I was at my worse, I instantly thought of the many times my mother bathed and nurtured me as a child. No doubt, I took her for granted while she was here on the earth. For that, I regret every moment I spent fighting against her wisdom.

And yet, it is in our disagreements that I have come to continually discover "ME".

My mother is one of my greatest teachers and I look forward to reuniting with her.... I know when I do see her again, it will be like no time at all had passed.

Please grant me the endurance to get through this lifetime relatively quickly and full of lasting memories as I journey toward my next lifetime... ever searching to meet with HER again.

Closed In

Sometimes I feel so trapped.

I wonder if other people in the world feel like that.

I truly long for a life without restraint. Does that make sense?

The structure of trying to be the way society wants us to be makes me a little numb. Attempting to fit into someone's view of how my life should be makes me feel...
well...
it makes me feel...
CLAUSTROPHOBIC
and
I
want
out.

No. It's not my marriage that makes me feel so confined. My husband truly is my best friend. It's other things... things that will not make one bit of difference at the end of my life.

So why do I continue to follow it?

**heavy sigh**

Unfolding My Feelings

Everything feels so unreal lately. My mother's passing has made things different. I've been trying to get used to a new reality and so has my father and my brothers, my husband and everyone around us. Life hasn't been overly depressing. I'm grateful that everyone around me is coping so well. This makes the process of grieving and mourning one of celebration rather than sadness. I know that is what my mother would want.

My mother has had so many complications with her health and wellness. Her death allows her to move beyond this life and dimension and it's a good thing for her. She is free from the body that kept her so trapped.

Niece #3 is coping well. She's all of 4 years old and is just the most precious 4-year old on the planet. Sis-in-law told her that "mama" went to heaven.

NIECE #3: She went to heaven already? But I didn't get to say bye.

As soon as she said that, she started singing some random song while my brother and sis-in-law were fighting back bittersweet tears. Bitter because mom is gone to heaven but sweet because NIECE #3 put it in the right context. What we're really grieving is that there was no goodbye and we will miss her presence in our life.

My Bishop, in his visits with our family, said, "Your mom is not gone. She is here, in you."

When people used to say that I am just liker her I thought it was such a terrible thing. I did not want to be like my mom. She was too forward, too honest, too controlling. At the same time though, she had the biggest heart. She took in everyone's children. She helped anyone that needed help. She volunteered to help with anything and everything even with her failing health. She was the definition of charity. As I review my life with my mother, I am so grateful to have had her in my life and to even be compared to her in some small way. And all the things that I did not like about her are actually the qualities I appreciate the most in other people. Isn't that funny? I prefer brute honesty over fake-ness and my mother was always good for a dose of straight-up HONESTY. :-D Makes me smile just thinking of all the many times she's checked me and anybody else that needed to be checked!

The coming months may find me blogging often about her as a way of unfolding my feelings. It makes me feel closer to her.

Revisiting Thomas

I suggest reading through the Thomas Chronicles for background information.

First installment of the Thomas Chronicles

******

I dreamt about Thomas last night. I don't know why he entered my dreams but he seemed to be the constant theme through it all. It could possibly be because I had googled him the other night and found him on some reunion site. He doesn't look as good as I remember him to be. The years have crept up on him.

Through the grape vine, I've heard that he's doing well. He works. Supports all his kids. Is still married. Bought a house. He's settled! As it should be.

In my dream, he followed me everywhere. There was no escaping him. Wherever I was, there he was. I was in a library -- there he was. I was walking on the street and he was following me in a white truck. I was at a restaurant, eating with some friends, and there he was, observing me from the window. I was in the middle of the city, hand in hand with my husband and there he was following us. The crazy thing is that he wouldn't talk to me in the dream. He would observe from a distance but never confront me. It was downright creepy. Everywhere I'd turn in my dream, he'd be there staring at me.

I think my subconscious is regurgitating all these emotions because at one point in our relationship, at the tail end of it all, he began stalking me. The guilt I've felt over how I "did" him haunts me from time to time. I feel like reaching out to quail my tortured soul and perform some kind of restitution. But I think that restitution would only serve me. Me contacting an ex to apologize for bad behavior would offend my husband, would offend Thomas' wife and would only benefit me. I would be the only one able to unburden my sins.

**heavy sigh**

It's funny how dreams always seem to affect me in such an emotional way. I know that this is how my subconscious speaks to me. As I purge, I let go of my "sins" and become more and more ready to accept more of the abundance in the universe. I deserve it!

I Hate....

I hate the way we fight.
I hate how I am affected by our arguments.
I hate that I notice EVERY negative comment.
I hate that I know I'm not an idiot but am manipulated to feel like one.
I hate how there is NEVER an apology.
I hate that there is never neutral ground after an argument.
I hate that I ALWAYS submit just to keep the peace.
I hate that MOST about me.... that I ALWAYS submit.
I hate when I cry while we're in battle mode.
I hate it because it means I am angry and I am weak.
I hate that I can NEVER express myself quite right when I'm angry.
I hate the reasons for our fights.
I hate that even when I'm free flowing, I still never blame you...
I hate that even when no one is looking, I'm still blaming myself.
I hate knowing that tomorrow, this argument won't even matter.
I hate knowing that tomorrow, nothing will have changed.
I hate knowing that today, tomorrow and for as long as you'll have me... I'll still be loving you...