4 A.M. Spelling Lesson…


It has been a little while, just like a lot of other places that I write a whole lot of words for, since I was brought back to this one.

This one is where I write things that matter to ME, specifically, and right now, I can state that it has been a while since I have slept through the night. I fall asleep most of the time because I just cannot, sometimes, during “normal people” hours, stay awake.

At 4 A.M. , I am sitting here writing things that might make sense another time, or at least be writing about things that make sense. I just know that there are people who will lie to each other, and others who will do that AND lie to themselves, and they are also the ones who are fabulous at lying through omission – and they are the worst ones of all.

And I know it.

I know that my life has been made to become this hell because of a lot of things that could  have been prevented had people just damned well listened a long time ago and used that thing called common sense and that other thing, called compassion and one more thing…empathy.

Empathy is a funny thing, you know?

We all have it.

It is not limited to people like me who actually practice AND teach The Craft. I Am not one who holds onto the things that she thinks are bullshit, and the things that I think are bullshit are the things that other people want the rest of our shared world to know is their specific truth about who I Am.

Who I Am no matter the time is no oneʻs business, and Who I Am, no matter what anyone wants to think about me, even though I have been told, again and again, that I “ought to know better”…

Better than what? Being who I Am, or Being who I Am NOT???? And really, letʻs be honest, that is what this is really all about, and that is why I am who has to be done wrong to like this…no, not in the …paperwork…sense but in the ….Soul sense….because I have all kinds of both of those things…Sense AND Soul, and well, my big scary man god does not exist because he was big and scary and a man and god…fuck that.

…”Know better”….oh yeah – because, you know – I would ALWAYS believe in my momʻs god, right? Because I am not supposed to be who I Am, even though I Am phenomenal at Being Who I Am. I Am not going to Lie – I Am a Truthteller – I Am not a Christian, so please get over one of the HUGE reasons that you ALL want to banish me, and whatever you do or donʻt do – remember that I KNOW the meanings to ALL of these words that I Am Writing at 4 AM while I Am giving a …haha….Spelling Lesson…in a way that my students of the Divine Arts are not expecting.

They know that from me, they can expect the unexpected and for them, it is not a secret that I Am focused on what it is that I Am dealing with right this moment, and at this time in the morning, the thought in my head that makes me want to cry is about Who I Am to ….a few people who ought to know the fuck better…


I donʻt want to be the family soap opera anymore, and I found out how I have been that, and how much I have been judged, and harmed, and expected to bounce back from it and really, the Spelling Lesson is many-fold in that, people are and have been, for many years, discussing Who I Am to Them and well…. it doesnʻt matter who anyone thinks THEY are and by what fucking right they think they are what they really are NOT….

Guess what?

Who I Am is not up for discussion, really…but, it is ALWAYS up for discussion, because people who cannot help themselves want to help me by making me go backwards, not realizing that the damage that THAT is causing is …well, my guy has a term for it – the things that are being done TO me ….NOT FOR ME- MAKE NO MISTAKE …I would KNOW if they were, and if someone wants to be point blank with me, go for it .

Just do not forget that I have that same right and ability, too, and when I Am being THAT me, well…we shall say that I do not like lying, because I get caught. This means that I was NEVER any good at it, not even in writing, because I always got caught – no matter what, I got and get caught and this time, when it is a big huge thing and people are making light, it seems, of one condition versus another, placing a wrong perception of power into the one pair of hands that are not the right pair, and just to know this much is the truth?

And no one can deny the truth, and it seems like people have decided that truth is relative, but in my case, it is absolute. That is the thing about truth, and truth in motives, and truth in action, and truth in response and/or RE-action (because again….I Am very GOOD at what I do…and it is my perception of things that are NOT being blatantly said that is REALLY prompting me to write this blog post, where I will typically stretch my…writing prowess in terms of spells….to their limit in terms of metaphor…but for this one thing, we shall say that my intentions are very clear in this, if a person reads it correctly…if not, then I hope you enjoy being entertained by the things that you do not understand….so in either case please…keep reading)….that while we might be able to lie, through whatever means it is that we are most comfortable with…that is the lie that we will tell, or, through omission, NOT tell.

Yeah….”the lie we are most comfortable with…”

It makes my Magickal Skin crawl, really. I Am one of those….examples…of the victims of ….alternative truths as spouted by those who follow the god damned lord.

Yeah…makes your eyes hurt, doesnʻt it, to read those words that someone like me would put into writing…that some peoplesʻ god is damned, cause he is their lord, and their lord says that it is okay to …continue to try to …control…people…through their emotional selves and well, for women like me?

The Magickal Sort?

Control me, or continue to try to and continue to believe that you are doing just THAT???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SIRS????

Let me put it to you THIS way (and you can praise your god damned lord, scratch your fucking eyes out if it offends you – because know now, I am very ADEPT at my practice, and this is not a threat but A FACT and yeah…if I Am prompted to do so, indeed to use it wisely…and that, folks who are reading this right now, is what I Am up to…so please keep reading….)

Read that again please, and realize the thing about the time – I am awake, listening to the day begin, and that here I Am, at this juncture of time when I have GOT TO find another place to live, and really, I suppose, that at this time in the morning, the thing that I think I Am doing is actually calling on all of my fellow…people who Spell…

It is now 5 AM

For me, it is that thing called The Witching Hour, and it might as well be that time of the morning that most women refer to as being “Me” time but in my case my “Me” time is never always and only about me. I have one of those groups and am very much part of this bunch called a “family” and within it there are people who call me “Mom.” Those people are depending on me to make this thing that happened not be, and the only way that it will not be is if I find us a new place to live.


So I Am reaching out to the women in my world, and asking your assistance in a global prayer, calling on my fellow Practitioners and Teachers of the Divine Feminine Arts, the Occult Arts, and the Women, on this planet, Who, like Me, are right now having to look beyond the blood relations for the security that, as long as you cower to their rules, and as long as you pander to their egos and as long as you give up who you are for their rules, they will Love you, will understand you and will not bring you harm.

And the moment that you come away from that thought and the moment that you break from that energy….they want to literally, think and believe that they are allowed to, legally, through manipulating your fears through silence, through their insulting your very intelligence and of course, for the things that they have been doing to you all of your life because you simply cannot live any other way than with the Truth that has ALWAYS protected you….and I Am asking for your assistance in a prayer, now that I think about it, that is not only for me, but for us.

Pray for us all, my Sisters who are part of the Global Coven, part of the Sisterhood of The Soul that is deep and true and strong.

To believe that people will be this way to family, to A Mom with her kids, and to know, to just know that it is this Momʻs with her kidsʻ family who has made it so that this  mom with her kids would feel compelled to, rather than ask for assistance in  bringing their karma to them faster, help me bring my Dharma to me, to you, to us all.

At 5 AM, no matter where you are, you are thinking things that you ought to not think. Ladies, and a few gentlemen…letʻs bring our power together, as one, thank the Goddess that we are Who We Are.

Indeed, pray for us all…we are going to be those people who bring the planet back to Life, and we are going to be, already are those who are not afraid to Do what we Do, Be Who We Are, Love the World and right now, my part of the world is in need of shelter, in need of a place for me to continue my work in #PlantMedicine.





The Other Side of The Tree


Today I sat there

On The Other Side of The Tree

Where She typically Sat Facing Me

It feels like I cannot See Me

From The Other Side of The Tree

But itʻs where I sit usually

Over There

Where I canʻt See Me

From Her Side of The Tree

That Sits always between Her

And Me.

Always the Earth that tries to block

the Flow of the Water While It

talks in the manner that it should and in

the Manner that it Would and in the

Manner that is the Tree where She sat facing


And I sat facing

She who gave life to Me and the only thing that I see

Where it is typically Me

is the empty space that is on

The Other Side of the Tree

From Either Side

I cannot Hide what

or Who

Is not sitting there

On the

Other Side of The Tree

That made us each become


Where at least I could Be Her

Child Who the Tree would

Listen To, and even though she laughed at

Me She knew that I would converse with

The Tree

That sat between Her and


And that ultimately made us become our



Her Lunar Child of The Trees

who always sat


The Other Side of The Tree

Where She could hear the Bees

And be at ease

as She Pleased, or at least that it what it looked like from

The Other Side of The Tree.

A Place Where She Was

The Queen of the Bees

and The Queen of The Tree where She Always Sat

Facing Me

From where She could See Me

Her Lunar Child of The Trees in Whom

The Moon and Stars and The Planets Alike

In Her Words and Gestures Seemed to Come Fully Alive

And Where the Birds She Could Hear

Could drown out the Noise

of those Silly Boys

Playing Music on the Porch

and the Little one

Making Things…

I couldnʻt See Me


The Other Side Of The Tree

Where She Sat facing Me

And Where She and Me Became

Our We

No, not at all should I see Me

All Alone

In That Tree

Because no matter what

not One Human

Can Take away From



From Me

That Place in our Souls

On Either Side of The Tree

We get to Be

Our We

Her And Me, Her Lunar Child of The Tree

That, is…

Her Lunar Earth Child

Who Listens to The Trees

And Talks to the Bees

and the Only Child Whose Water

Makes Children Grow

Her Lunar Earth Child

Who Is Me…and Only Me.

I Am Not Ever going to See


Like She Sees Me


This is What I Saw from

And Heard

And Learned

And Know about now


The Other Side of The Tree.



…o ke kai

Beach With Lisa3

…O Ke Kai…

O ke kai

We are, You and I

the very all of us

always in a chosen fuss over nothing

Even as…

As we dance in the essence

Without pretense

or expectation of the thing that we

see within

that we do not realize that we

are creating without

When the soul is ready the

teacher will just be there

And the water will tell us where

And the sky help to realize

And maybe we will realize that we are just a bunch of

souls beneath the sun

And the light of day that chases us

doesn’t let up to show us

when we have to learn from

the pain and the glum

But we can’t

because we think

and perhaps believe

that in order to be

We must have and hold

and then be told

Who we are for the

Very life of us

…that ain’t how it works

We must hurt

We must cry

and then we must ask


Sometimes we must cry?

We must dance in the trance

before we have the chance to dance for


Because we must feel

because when we feel

it makes it all


This is the basis of Creation

That thing we do

As me

As You

And the blessing that Is

Is not hers or his

But just is

Because we called upon it

And acted on it

And waited for it

For however long

It takes

These things we take for

granted that

we think that

are just ours

because we merely breathe

so entitled are we

for the fact that we can see

and hear

and touch

and feel


most do not know what it means to be real

in the sense that we can deal with

what we feel

not know that the thing that we

came to be

is not everyone else that we see

and not everyone else

who we know

will grow

and do the things that we

believe they ought to

And why do we believe they ought to

Because that is what we have been taught to?


Blessed Be for you and for me

The Goddess Smiles Times Three

When She sees

that We

have gone to that place where forever


and the thing that we


is much smaller by far

than the outlandish nature of the hope and the

dream that sometimes makes us


because we want it so bad but we don’t understand

that in order to have we have to

let go because

when we let go the Goddess will know

that within and without

we haven’t a doubt

that what we are here for

is not only for us

but for the rest of us

who breathe

and talk

and love

and wish

and want

and eventually have

the thing that is to be

Blessed Be

Three Times Three

You and Me

Down by the Sea

The Witch who is the She

Who is the very Equal to the Shaman Who Is


And who is the Sea within and

The Sky Without

And the Winds that Blow

And the Birds that Fly and

Cry with Glee

Lealea Kui Merry Meet

With Glee

You and Me

In Gratitude, We

Cast the Worries to the Sea

Lealea Kui Merry Meet

Down by the Ocean

Down by the Sea

Three times Three

Merry Meet! Merry Meet!

Blessed be

Blessed You

Blessed Me

Three Times Three

Down by The Sea

Lealea kui

Merry Meet

Blessed Be

You and Me

And the Ocean that is


Down by The Sea

Lealea kui

Merry Meet






Let the Fire Within Be

that which saves us from the din of the sin

of the things that we are not and the things that

we will never be

burn that shit in


and offer it up to the Goddess of things that never were

Honor Her

Love Her

Let Her Dance around the Fire

Be the Diva called Desire

Let her Be the Fire

Let Her Burn

Let Her Turn

Let Her Soul be the Urn

for the ashes brought by the past

burned the mask to ash

Smudge it in

Show the Sin

of the Skin you’re in

because no one wears it better

than you

Burn, Baby, Burn

It’s Your Turn

Burn like the Fire You Are

Rise high! Rise High!

Turn this shit up


‘Ahi ‘Ahi

Light so bright

‘Ahi ‘Ahi

Hot and White

glowing in the thickness of the Night



Earth! Earth!

Haumea’s worth

and sometimes I

look up into the night time sky

and see what I

am in terms of the Moon

And the tune of the swoon

of the chattering Raccoon

and the chirping of birds in the middle of the night

giving reason for it to seem

as though it is the moon

in full on croon as we

dance to the flawless effervescent

nature of the singular and every-night

departure of the earth as she

goes to sleep

or at least this is what we think she does and yet

by the light of the Moon

in Full-On Swoon

Christened in the light of the Nature Of

The Ever-lasting Goddess of

The Endlessness that is the night

And the foreverness that is the tangible proof that

is life

in the day

as it glows in the day

hidden away in the light that is the Sun



What is it that makes us want to dare to

share the Air with the others who

we know we want to care


but know nothing about without

thinking that maybe we are not

what we want to think we are

as we wish upon the star that is beyond


like the stars

between which we dance

in a trance

as if nothing more needs to advance

in this dance of the

stars and above

and the earth below and the air

that flows

in between

’tis the thought of what we are not

that makes us insane when for real

we are inane in the idea that

no one loves us as we are so we might as well

remain scarred instead of seeing them

as the mark

not of the beast

but likeliest because you are

I am

She is

We all Are

Somehow from this

element that is the thought

of things we forgot by

right of the things

in our lives

that makes us think like

people are used

and things are loved

where the hell did we get that

stupid thought from and

when were we going to

think to Be,

in Love…???

Indeed to simply

Be…in Love



Water! Water!


Water here and Water there

and water doesn’t really

care about much more than

that their people are safe

and loved

and good

and by the very right of being this sign

the one that seems a little left behind but

the truth is that we are far ahead

already know what

is gonna be said

and no matter what you want to believe

even though it flows right through

a sieve

it does not mean

that we are who

you get to do whatever it is

that you think we like

when in reality

we simply want you to see

who we are in relation

not to you

and yours

but you and yours and

everyone else’s too

Elements! Elements!

Calling all my elements

The ones from the North

with magick frigid and cold

And the ones from the South

with the lightning hot

And the ones from the East

who is the Windy Beast

and the ones from the West

Whose circles nest the tide and the

ongoing circle

of the elemental

and the Universal

truth that is

the All That Is

Blessed Be

Blessed Be

Lealea ku i

Merry Meet

Merry Meet

Indeed Blessed Be and Merry Meet

Blessed is the Element that Is Me

and the rest who go by the label


Blessed Be


Three to the very Power of Three

Lealea ku i 

Merry Meet


Lealea Hui…


Lealea Hui

(Merry Meet)

The proper term to

the Sisterhood, or



filled with good

intentions of the soul,

Merry Meet! Merry Meet!

Indeed, on the Astral

Goddess Speed.

Merry Meet

LeaLea Hui

Merry Meet

Move Your Feet


A Count of Eight

Don’t Not Wait

Lealea Hui

Merry Meet

Celebrate the Icy Dawn

And how quickly does

the evening come

and as We Celebrate with Feast

Lest We Forget

Lealea Hui

Merry Meet! Merry Meet!

Lealea Hui

Merry Meet!

May the Sisters Who Dance in The West

Find that their feet can never rest

and the Sisters Who Dance in the East

Who are Dancing in the Streets and

Some to The North Who Dance with the Sun

and those to the South Who Dance Beneath the Moon

and the Ones in between who have not yet seen

what I mean by calling to the Ones who

Dance beneath the stars

between the freeways and the cars

and all the twinkling lights

of every city night

to The Sisterhood I call

to One and to All

Lealea Hui

Merry Meet!

Merry Meet!

To all of the Sisterhood of the Soul, the World Over, Dance

Put Your World in the Trance and

Stand Back in Awe

We Made it this Far…

indeed…Lealea Hui… Merry Meet….

Mele Kalikimaka


The Universal Sisterhood of The Soul…

…see Y’all girls on the Astral!

Aloha Mai E …



NATIVE (That’s why) #NoDAPL


…I am Native, that’s why…


You ask me why I care about strangers

then ask me why I don’t call you more

or see you more

seeing how we used to live a few doors

from each other

at one time in life

And at one time in life I

made it no


that one day I’d think it

That never will you get it

when my only answer is that

I’m Native, that’s why.

I’m Native, that’s why

It is why it is that I cry

When I hear the lies

about these people who I

relate with

In such a way that


I know why they cry

I’m Native, that’s why.


It’s because the way that I

as a ‘people’ have cried

when others ask why I

would bother with strangers who

some folks call “danger”

when it comes to these people

who just want what’s rightfully theirs

but no one cares

because no one dares to

bother with the idea that this is

some kid’s home

and this is some

Grandmother’s Legacy

and this is the land of a thousand and one

voices of

a thousand and one tears

and a thousand one

generations that people just decided that the thing that

so many people whose

only answer was also and will always only be

“I’m Native, that’s why.”

was not good enough

So they took it upon themselves

to create this hell

that the truth would tell

of the sin committed

by people who omitted the

idea that children need a home

and water

and ways to put out the fires

of others’ desires

to run through their yard

once again leave them scarred

their little brains marred

with the sin of omission

of their little souls’ mission

to teach you each that

Not everything is for sale

And not everything if you pale

in the veil of what it is that you

simply don’t get

and won’t no matter what

Namely when my

only answer is

“…because I’m Native, that’s why…”



That’s why.








It was told, the heartbeat, of a million and one

tears that have fallen all in the name of


For the things that they have endured

The dance of the elders

the Grandmothers

the ‘Aumakua..they call

They send their voices across the cosmos

Reminding us all

great and small

That we are all part of this floating


in the middle of the great big vastness of


The powers that seem to be and who cannot see

the very gigantic nature of once again

this travesty

that they cannot see as being

the thing that is bringing back to life

the strife

caused by the rifles unneeded

and the pleadings unheeded

and the leanings that are from nothing more than hubris and greed

from anything but need

and now is replanted the seed

of a trail not walked

any longer

of tears which are bitter

which linger

which sting

which break apart the thing

that they had fought hard for

and all it takes is one quick swipe of ink

to make a bunch of assholes think

that maybe it is in what we drink

where the power supply is

“…cry for the land…cry for the people…”

or try for the hand that feeds the machine

“..cry for the land that was taken away…”

or put your head in the sand and call it a day

“…how would they feel about the modern city life…”

And would they see it as part of the strife

felt by everyone man and his wife

And every single part of life

that is not lived anywhere but


Here where we are

Where the foreign interests are far

but not far enough

for us to call their bluff

for them to treat us rough

as if none of us

or these who we call “them”

Who bear the painting of war

upon the shores where there was more

than enough to stop them

stop them

stop them

because we


have had enough

First our mountain

and now their water

as if it is not enough to spoil that which

feeds and makes thrive their sons, their daughters

inters these things like

a casket in the ground

where the only fucking sound

is the laughter of men who would never again

be able to stop and see

what it is that they

have brought to us all

great and small

on this floating ball where we all


They see only the dollar signs

hear only the laughter of the arrogance lived as though

no native child needs to grow or


who they are by right of the

land upon which they



We thrive until we are told

that once we are old

they will dig again for the gold

that does not belong to them

these women and men

of a different cloth

of a different hue

than me

than you

Time and again

We take to the sunset

awaiting the moon

underneath which we will swoon

and croon to the great motherly orb

to give us back

that which was under attack and waited til this slow ugly burn

was akin to the massive urn

in which these souls would burn

the heartache of the past, calling it “the last time

we won”

How easy it is to win

when you are committing a sin

against both man and your

ever arrogant god

who told you to maim and to kill

just because you can

every woman and man

every child who was

just indigenous enough

for you to quietly feel

inferior to and that the militarily issued boots

was so that you could avoid and not shoot

so you would not have to look into the eyes

as their families cried

while you guys lied and acted like they

were strangers in your land

land which you stole

and then called them thieves

and heathens

and savages

just like a mahulani on a boat

in the middle of the vast pacific

wearing his knickers

and his makeup

and his high heels

with his hurbis

and his muskets

and his late 1700s pride

and about a hundred years later

was when the nature of Aloha died

just like these same people tried

upon the trail where they all cried

and died

because of the lies that were told

and the lands that were sold

to the highest bidder

the highest sinner

the one whose voice rang louder than

the deafening fire-shot

which released the red goodness

of a million and one people

traveling on a trail called tears

Grandmother Moon

Hear my cry

Hear the beating of the drum that I

Play for those whose feet now travel

in the same manner as did their


Dance beneath the Moon

Let the rain fall on the earth

and let the gnashing of teeth

be that which can be called relief from those who

worship a big scary god

who wants only the profits taken from these people

who have already been here

done this









PO : The Seed Germinating…


All of Life Springs from Po.

If I had to think about things in the manner that I used to, I would not be sitting here writing this.

Write this, I must – if I do not write this, I cannot see with my own eyes the thing in the darkness that was spawned from the pain…the thing in the Po of my life.

I know…there is punctuation missing, and I fully expect that other Kanaka Maoli are going to have things to say about it not being there. They can. I don’t care. It is not my thought, my thing, my way to tell people who they are, what they will do, how they will continue to create what it is that they want to call their lives.

That is not me.

The me who I was forced to become, by mechanism of Spirit and through the pain that is loss is this me who is currently writing this, and this me who is not ill prepared for the pain. It is merely time that has to pass, and merely the thought in my head, in Po that makes me know that no matter what my physical self wants to believe, I am who is the one who is meant to create, for me, through this darkness, this Po, all that I am meant for, and all that is mine and in manifest.

What is not mine and neither in manifest is anyone else’s pain, is anyone else’s heartache, is anyone else’s Karma.

I have no say so in terms of how other people do what they will in order to fix their pain.

I only have my way for me, and my way for me has always been to recall what was the fondness, deal with what is not the truth of me as told by others to me, and move, no matter how slowly or swiftly, as I am prompted.

I am not prompted by me.

I am prompted by the ‘Aumakua, prompted by the thought in my head that no matter what is still wrong with me knee, with my physical self, there still is the soul within, and the soul within who wants to dance, no matter who is or who is not, no matter who will, or who will not, no matter who can, or who cannot, see me do this…see me do what is my practice as a Medicine Woman, as Kahuna Wahine, as this me.

The Po that is, I suppose, was meant, was created by that which was Love and Love not only for another, but, Love that is for my very self.

It is my Very Self who is writing this, and not that forlorn, not that angry, not that human with a motive for making it clear to anyone at all that I have been wounded, and no better a time than now, when there is significant Chiron energy surrounding me, surrounding this..event…that is something that was significant for my learning, if for nothing else. 

I am sad, make no mistake, but, at the same time, I am contemplative…yet I am not wondering a thing more than the answer to the question – Where do I, specifically, go from here, and what is it that I, specifically, should learn from this…from this Po which resides in the heart, as well as the mind, and in the soul? 

I don’t know where to go with this Po

Perhaps to the wood beneath my feet, the loveliness of slack key guitars in my ears, and this Medicine Dance in my Heart, healing my Spirit with the cathartic nature of the darkness, of the Po energy, which is in the birthing of the light of creation




Naked Feet



Naked feet.

All dancers have feet, but not all dancers have naked feet.

When my feet are on a wooden floor, they are naked.

They feel the earth, and the vibration of the drums. They sense the heartbeat of the Mother, and the lifeblood called “music.”

They draw in the goodness of the Mother, and allow us to walk away from that which is not Sacred, not Holy.

They recall the sharpness of broken shells beneath them, and the Portuguese Man-o-war sting from a long time ago, when the only other thing that they recall is that there are none of those vile little blue bubbles seen here in Southern California very often.

They recall running around outside, at the ho’ike, and then, years later, sneaking down the street to get into a friend’s car and whisked off to Sunset Boulevard to see the bands that my own grown kids call “Classic Rock” -bare, silent, quick.

They recall a nail through them, and then more than one time, 3 inch wooden golf tees…


They recall the moistness of the valleys, and they recall the wetness of the Pacific Ocean. They know the warmth in the dead of a cold, high desert winter, and the feel of a ballroom floor beneath them…also wooden.

They recall how many times they have been in a pair of really great sandals, likely many thousands of pairs of slippah over the course of 46 years, and when they were in the very most uncomfortable pair of dress shoes they’d ever donned….and the very ones which were uncomfortable,only because of the memory of the aisle and the vows that meant nothing but were required that I live by them…then the ugliness…then surviving…and they recall the spring in themselves as I watched those very shoes sink into the abyss called the Pacific Ocean….right here…Huntington Beach, CA.

They recall, though, that throughout the time that they have been naked and at the end of my legs, they have danced. They have moved me from one end of a stage, from one end of the party, from one end to the other, and sometimes into the audience. They recall the joy, and they recall the importance of stories told by hands while the body moves in unison…they remember…

Naked feet.

My friends used to call them Luau Feet…and on many levels, they were right.

My Maestro calls them cute….I’ll take it

I used to call them ugly…

..even as though I know how much they are needed, not only to walk, but so that my hands can tell the story as my feet move…

Naked Feet….

Naked Feet that have danced many miles, over many years, through many heartaches and many joys.

Naked Feet that have been instrumental in the teaching of the Sacred Dance to those who had no idea that what they were learning was not only the dance, but, a manner by which a certain set of people live, everyday…

Naked Feet…

…the very ones who, even as I protest, the Maestro sometimes will play with them, tell me that they are beautiful, because he says that I am beautiful…

They say it is the hands which tell the story

What about the Naked Feet?

What about the Naked Feet that have danced in the sand, on the dirt, in the grass, at the park, on the beach…?

What about the Naked Feet, the ones ruled by Pisces and the ones which proverbially trek over the hot coals of life, without any shoes on…the naked feet that sometimes are the instrument by which many people have told many stories about?

And what about the Naked Feet that were joined by a whole lot of other Naked Feet, out there in the middle of nowhere, where the wildlife is actually wild, and the moon is the thing that the humans chant to, howl at, worship?

We can’t forget the Naked Feet in ritual

Dance is Ritual

I sometimes dance under the Wide and Bright Full Moon…depending on the sign, and the phase.

My Naked Feet have been all over the place, have danced on a lot of surfaces.

Naked Feet at Church

Naked Feet at the grocery store

Naked Feet all the time….

…naked feet, at the end of my legs, and naked feet that know what it means to Kaholo, and my naked feet that have joined the drumming circle, and my naked feet dancing ecstatically, and my naked feet going everywhere I do, as the silent witness to the giggles that no one hears, but can see….






Sacred Dance


The body is the Sacred Temple of Light. With it, we are able to tell stories of mountains, oceans, the sky, the earth, able to give voice to the gods and homage to the ‘Aumakua.

Dance is joy. Joy is Life. Life is Sacred.

Dance is religion. There are rituals one must adhere to.

There is class, and then rehearsal, and sometimes, the show, almost every night.

There is music and lights and effervescent action that tells stories.

The stories are the thing.

The stories are the thing, specifically, about Hula.

Your Hula.

My Hula.

Our Hula.


Dancing, period.

Regardless of what kind, or the music, or whatever…just get up and do it…Dance.

Dance because it is the way that the mind wants the body to think, and dance because the soul needs us all, from time to time, to dance…joyfully, ecstatically, without a care in the world.

Just dance.

Dance is Sacred, because “the meaning and the power of dance lie in what is being expressed by the entire body of the dancer, for in dance the body is the agent of expression. In a sense, dance is so attuned with ritual because both transcend the limitations of verbal communication.” (G. Kanahele, 1992)

As those who dance, we are the voice of the past, bringing to life the visions of the Kahuna, the dreaming of the Tribal Elders, and the count of 8 danced by every person whose feet love the feel of wood floors and whose ears do not hear a catchy tune but truly and rather whose heart and soul hear only the count of 8 within the music.

Dance because you are the voice no longer held silent for the pause between the notes, and dance because your heart would rather have you dance your heartache away, and dance, just dance…

Dance because it is beautiful, and dance because it is the way that you have expressed everything that you could not put words to, all of your life, to this point, and dance just because you can.

Dance beneath the wide and impossibly blue sky. Dance next to the ocean, to the song that is made by the crashing waves and the living sea. Dance underneath the subdued light of the wide and glowing, iridescent full moon, high in the night time sky, Mama Hina looking at us all as we dance the Sacred Dance.

Dance in the wind, and dance absolutely in the rain. Dance and give homage to the things that no longer live anywhere else but within your Soul.

Dance like your Ancestors did, with the drum and the circle and the heartbeat of many nations, and dance like your Tutu Auntie taught you, so many years ago.

Dance…just dance.

Dancing is Sacred.

We all can do it.

It is like breathing, or perhaps it is simply walking, with style.

Just dance.

Dance the way you want to , and dance the way that your mind sees you doing it, even if the way that it turns out doesn’t quite match…it won’t, because it is dance. Dance is old like time, but new, like more time. Dance is ancient and dance is like a brand new baby – it is the passing down of everything that we know to be the truth of the myths that we have given to ourselves as gifts from the ‘Aumakua, from the Grandmothers…

Dance around the fire, inside the circle, around the circle, as part of the circle. Dance like there is no one who sees you doing it, and dance so that the child inside can be alive, one more time, again and again.


Pretend that you are the music, and one day realize that you are the music come to life, the embodiment of the notes and the chords and the harmony and, yes, of course, the lyrics. We are the lyrics come to life, the life within the music that can only be thought of as many several counts of 8, contained within this piece of art that obviously was created by The Goddess with only the Sacred Dance in mind.

In your mind is where you see you dance the most, and in your soul is where it is that is contained the Love within you for this thing that is ancient, this thing that is Sacred, this thing that is the one thing that human beings have done from the unrecorded beginning of time. It is the thing that we do to become one with the Cosmos, and the thing that we do to bring the world to life within the time frame constructed by an artist whose demons are set free with stringed wings, whose savage leanings can be heard with every beat of the drum.


Sacred Dance.

Sacred Dancer…just dance.

Because it is the heartbeat of the many whose lives became what they are now, whose lives collectively are lived by the count of 8.

Because you are a being of Light, because you are Holy even as you are imperfect, because you breathe and live and cry and laugh and jump and run and everything else in between.

Because it is the thing that you do, is the thing that your ‘Aumakua did, that they still do when it is you who is performing the Sacred Dance.

Because sometimes, it is the Dance that saves our lives, just like it saved mine, again and again, until no longer did I wish to die, no longer wanted to not be part of the drumming circle, no longer wanted to not be here to do the Sacred Dance, one more time…

…one more time, over and over again.

Within and without, body and soul working together to birth into life the Sacred Dance.

Dance like you saw your Mama do it when she was dusting the rattan furniture, when you were 3 years old, and it was the first time that you had ever seen something so beautiful, so impossibly curious, so new and thrilling, as well as things as old as time, and as old as the song being sung by a man named Kawai Cockett, and songs that your Auntie Charlotte sang so much better than he did.

Dance, because you want to, and dance, like the black ladies at the Baptist church do, every Sunday morning, praising their unseen God, clapping to the sounds of the choir, dancing in the aisles, singing praises in their dancers’and ecstatic voices, not caring one bit that they are doing what their own ‘Aumakua did, many, many moons ago, out in the unkindness of the wild, beneath the darkness of night, with only the fire in the middle of the circle…then sadly…as they traveled a railroad that remained underground.

Dance with your castanedas, and dance with your ‘uli’uli, and dance with bells around your ankles.

Dance with your whole self…eyes included, and dance like the peacock, the swan, and dance like it is the last time that you ever will…even though you will again, dance.

Dance in the streets. Dance in the fields. Dance on the shore. Dance high above the world at the top of the mountain where already there are one too any telescopes..but still…dance there, even if only in your mind, and dance right here, no matter where “here” is for you.

Dance for the gods and the people, and dance for the people who came before we did, and indeed, like Bruddah Iz crooned…for the land that is truly and only ours.

Dance for the stars, and Dance for the Moon, and of course Dance for the rising Sun…

Hey, man…just dance.

Be Sacred.