Hawaii: 10 Days & 120 Hours of Sleep

Aloha lovers - now that I know what that word actually means, which is not just "Hello".

In the Hawaiian language, aloha stands for much more than just "hello" or "goodbye" or "love." Its deeper meaning is "the joyful (oha) sharing (alo) of life energy (ha) in the present (alo).

As you share this energy you become attuned to the Universal Power that the Hawaiians call mana. The loving use of this power is the secret for attaining true health, happiness, prosperity and success."

Source: The Aloha Spirit, a little paperback book which I was gifted by one of the hosts.

I put this post together as I was (am) readjusting to wearing clothes again. I will not wax on the heaven that tropical paradise are, period.

Winter holidays in NYC were well spent, in Hawaii. A bit outside of the tiny town of Pahoa, I had my hut, a jungle backyard and 10 days to do as I damn-well pleased.

Which was basically: sleep, explore, lay on the ground somewhere staring at something, yoga, and write. In that order, every day, and without a hint of boredom, restlessness or anything other than peace and happiness that spread into total rest and a sort of smiley daze that probably doesn't stand a chance against NYC, but which surely added an extra year or few to my life.

My hut was one of two with electricity - the rest were anything from a tent to a simple, screened bamboo box.

The kitchen was communal. The shower was solar-powered and in the jungle. <3

(And, I've spared those not interested in geeky foods from those photos. See: Hawaii Eats: Island Food Finds for the hunting/gathering details.)

By day, I'd run and/or ride (4 miles to the beach). The beach was a breeze to bike to and a bitch to get back from. 500 foot elevation difference over the four miles. Meaning, uphill the whole way. The bike I borrowed was two small and it took me five days to kick it out of three gears but of course I rode it to death.

When the sky started its sunset, I'd sit down to write. It became my favorite time. The breeze would pick up and I'd leave the door to the hut open to a backyard of huge swaying palms and a view of the ocean below those 500 feet. (The writing is a different project - from my other side (creative, fiction aka not ErthlyDlights stuff) hence the quiet over here lately (sorry!)).

Nights were starry and covered in Coqui frogs.

And more, and less but I wrote myself out of words there. So, in pictures and no particularly order: