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Last Thursday, I ventured north to Bellingham, Washington for my long anticipated class with Shiva Rea. I had never driven that far on my own before (about five hours), and the writer in me created all kinds of awful scenarios in which I did not return in one piece (the price for creativity!). I prepared for many eventualities, every last duck in a row, and left very dark (seriously Spring, no need to be so shy) and early. Thankfully, the drive went off without a hitch, a succession of NPR news stories, jazz, and rock and roll.
When I exited the highway hours later, my stiff legs itching for a stretch (yoga!), I had the first of many indications that none of my visions of doom would come to fruition. The sun started to peek through the clouds and a Bald Eagle swooped over my car. Talk about a warm welcome!
I arrived at the class after a picture perfect afternoon (more on that tomorrow), a warm, light-filled room, with equally warm and friendly strangers of all stripes. Then Shiva arrived and the magic began. With the beat of a drum, the raven spirit invocation (even more auspicious, considering my deep love of crows and ravens), curious, mischievous, dancing and spreading his wings, inviting us all to fly. This was followed by a truly amazing, heart liberating kirtan with Dave Stringer (like this). I sang at the top of my voice, every cell pulsing, full of joy, and ready for practice. The sadhana was kick-my-ass challenging with moments of silliness too (Shiva is funny!), everything I hoped for, infused with grooves from Dave and his cohort, and a final round of chanting to bring the magical practice to a close.
It’s pretty amazing when someone you’ve admired for a long time lives up to your expectations, live and in person, and a bit of a relief, too. I’ve been practicing with Shiva for the past six years, her work, and ours together, inspiring me more than I ever could have imagined. So when it came came time to thank her, for everything, that in the flesh, no going back, she’s standing right in front of me moment, rather than take my hand extended in gratitude, she embraced me, a hug between “old” friends. A perfect day, a perfect sadhana, made all the more sweet. Namaste.
p.s. I hope to get a picture with Shiva next time!
Happy Tuesday, gentle readers. How are you? I am chilly-willy. It is freezing here, quite literally. Our thermometer has been hovering around twenty-two degrees since the sun came up, and I’ve got nearly enough layers to rival little Randy in A Christmas Story, yet my feet remain cold. Blasted poor circulation!
All is not lost, however. I am in good spirits and thinking fondly of our recent weekend getaway to Eugene and Depoe Bay. We went two weekends ago and had a grand time exploring. Eugene, if you don’t know, is the home of the University of Oregon (for my Colorado friends, think Boulder, circa the early 1990’s). It’s two hours south in the valley, a lovely drive through verdant pastures with volcanic vents like massive mounds of granite scattered by the wind. On the day of our drive, the skies were laden with heavy suitcase clouds, traveling alongside us, and the trees, oh the trees, a patchwork of emerald, gold, crimson, tangerine, and amber: the perfect portrait of Oregon in the fall.
Our home away from home was The Excelsior Inn, just west of campus. It has a stellar and quite beautiful restaurant along with lovely, quaint rooms named after classical composers. I chose Schubert, of course, and was very pleased. There are also a myriad of watercolor paintings from local artists lining the halls, so it’s a feast for the eyes too.
In another feast for the eyes, we visited the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art on the U of O campus. I have to say, it is probably the finest small museum I have ever seen, with an exquisite and well curated collection of art. The building is pretty lovely, too, and precisely what I conjure when I think of an art museum: fine ironwork, high ceilings, gorgeous marble, and shining floors. There’s also a nice cafe and a kids (of all ages) area with costumes and neat activities pertaining to current exhibits. For $5, it is well worth the price of admission.
We also had the pleasure of spending the evening with my former student, Matt, and his sweet and adorable girlfriend, Kelly (no pictures – darn!). We enjoyed their good company over dinner and drinks (still a bit odd to enjoy libations with someone I knew as a teenager!), along with a special screening of the Oregon gem One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It had been a long time since either the hubster or I had seen it, and it didn’t disappoint.
The next leg of our adventure didn’t disappoint either. Though there was a thick blanket of fog and grave concerns on both our parts that we might not actually be able to see the ocean. I grumbled and fretted, bemoaning our predicament, but was ultimately redeemed when I not only saw the whitecaps crashing but could smell their delightful scent. There is nothing like sea air to buoy spirits!
As a perfect tie in to our Eugene adventure, our picture perfect Depoe Bay lodgings (The Channel House) were just adjacent to the bridge in the scene where Jack Nicholson’s character takes the gang fishing. Though we didn’t fish, we ate plenty of local seafood (Yaquina Bay Oysters and smoked salmon, among others, oh my!) and saltwater taffy so fresh it was warm in our hands. We also watched Oystercatchers, and a tenacious Cormorant catch its breakfast (very exciting!) while sipping hot tea and gorging on golden pastries, granola, and eggs. I think it’s what could be described as the height of splendor. Indeed. Sometimes it is nice to get away.
Glittering diamonds of dew; emerald leaves, needles, and moss; ripe ruby huckleberries; opalescent water and stone under a brilliant lapis lazuli sky. These are the many jewels of Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center, Mother Nature’s living, breathing cathedral of earth, water, sometimes fire, and air. Despite their glimmering and pristine character, they hardly encompass the magic and wonder of this truly special place.
As I am one who sees the beauty, power, and resilience of the natural world wherever I go, urban and rural settings alike, I thought I knew what to expect at the Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center – a grand place of primal waters and trees older than the nation I call home. After all, I’ve been to myriad forests and seen the majesty of trees towering above me. I’ve witnessed the scrappy plant proudly blossoming from a tiny crack in the sidewalk. I’ve seen water of such blindingly brilliant hues as to leave me speechless. Despite all of this, I was wholly unprepared for my experience at Opal Creek. The beauty and peace I felt was staggering and resonated deep in my bones. Every step, glance, and sound steeped in the sublime.
It all starts with the journey, literally and figuratively. We load the car here at home, drive south through the cacophony of morning rush hour before turning east. Already there is a shift. There are fewer cars, more trees, large stands of oaks peppered between farms, shopping centers, and even a prison. The landscape changes again as we make gains in elevation, and the grassy knolls turn into vast stands of evergreens. Their clean scent mingles with the dust of the dirt road under our wheels. We park the car, but we aren’t quite to the end of our journey. We walk three miles out of time. It could be the 1930’s of rustic wood cabins, gold panning, starlit skies, and cast iron. And in those places where there is no sound save the chirp of a camouflaged bird or the drip of of a watercourse borne of centuries, we might just be in America before it was, two nameless faces living off the land.
This final Hawaiian post is a long one. Grab a beverage or a snack and sit for a spell, won’t you? We’re starting out in Hale’iwa on the North Shore, the surfing capitol of the world. There are lots of charming shops selling all kinds of goodness, and equally charming people. We’ll definitely be back here.
Action shot! The North Shore seems to be the shave ice capitol of the world, as well. If I do say so myself, our combination of lemon, coconut, and vanilla was pretty darned awesome. Soft, almost creamy, no ice crystals, and that touch of vanilla ice cream in the bottom of the cup was divine.
Anahulu stream bridge in Hale’iwa. I love bridges.
A cute cottage for island living.
Smack-dab in the middle of the Dole Plantation. I have never seen so many pineapples!
Highway 99 south to Honolulu.
Dining at the Kapiolani Farmer’s Market. We indulged in an omelet with asparagus and island sheep cheese, super refreshing sparkling beverages, macadamia flower honey from Kaneohe, and abalone. Despite being slightly worried that we were the only haolies in line for them, they did not disappoint: garlicky, buttery, slightly chewy, a bit like escargot. What a pretty bit of “garbage,” as well.
The Kapiolani Community College (the location of the farmer’s market) has one of the most beautiful campuses I have ever seen. There are a myriad variety of flowers…
And cacti…
And more flowers. This was actually part of a hedge. A hibiscus hedge. It is paradise, after all!
This amazing banyan is the neighbor of the Iolani Palace.
The Hawaiian Crest, it reads:
Ua Mau Ke Ea O Ka Aina I Ka Pono
The Life of the Land is Perpetuated in Righteousness
The grand entrance to the Iolani Palace.
Still pretty grand is the back entrance, where our tour started.
The barracks – can you tell Hawaiian royalty was deeply influenced by Europe, and, in particular, Great Britain?
What a fine porch to take in a luau…
Or wait for a tour wearing our special shoe covers. No photos allowed inside. Trust me, it was worth it.
Twin Palm trees and a beautiful view.
The state capitol building is unlike any I have seen before. I really liked the architecture. It is open to the elements, with offices around a courtyard. The handsome mosaic, reminiscent of the ocean, is at the center.
Also on the grounds of the capitol is this quite fine and modern rendering of the gracious and giving Father Damien. A sainted man who cared for the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of those with leprosy (Hansen’s disease). He worked tirelessly for sixteen years before contracting and succumbing to the disease himself. Mahalo.
Greetings from his Majesty King Kamehameha, responsible for uniting the Island Kingdom of Hawaii. You can see the real cape he wore (made of thousands of red and yellow feathers) as well as other gorgeous finery on the tour of the Iolani Palace.
The grand mausoleum of King William Lunalilo, elected popularly and by the legislature.
Lunch time at the Hawaii State Art Museum. The restaurant was highly recommended by our tour guide at the Iolani Palace. The chef takes a “local first, organic whenever possible, and with aloha always” approach. It is mighty fine.
A tribute to Hawaiian Firefighters. Mahalo!
The Honolulu Brewing Company building, circa 1900. It actually went under a $25 million dollar renovation, but, quite unfortunately, I guess they used some super stinky wood sealer, and the building remains unoccupied. Talk about a bummer. It was, however, used in LOST, in some scenes where Charlie was meant to be in England. This also reminds me, we had one LOST sighting on our island adventure. In the airport on our way home, we saw Jack’s father Christian. He is more handsome and shorter than I expected. Go figure.
The Royal Hawaiian Hotel grounds. As we were walking by, we saw a couple readying for their wedding ceremony. What a place to tie the knot! For my Uncle Chris, and a shout out to Rick, too: we couldn’t find the place you guys had a cocktail, but no worries, we indulged in more than one delicious tropical drink requiring an umbrella and a maraschino cherry. We also had stunning views from the Punchbowl (see below).
Pineapple County Store
An Oahu icon, we had really good burgers and the equally good company of a local who dines here every night.
Leonard’s makes Malasadas, the best doughnut-like baked good I have ever tasted. Trust me, with a particular fondness for fried dough, I have A LOT of experience in this area. We tried them plain, filled with chocolate (like a really good pudding), and a silky coconut cream, of course. Is there a Hawaiian term for Ooh la la?
We’re at the Punchbowl National Cemetery. Located in a crater above the city, the cemetery is a stunning memorial to the sacrifices of our service men and women. Lady Columbia holds a laurel branch and represents the grieving of all mothers. Inscribed beneath her are the words of Abraham Lincoln:
“The solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.”
Amen to that.
It is a somber place of gorgeous vistas, encompassing Diamond Head to Pearl Harbor.
The small chapel.
One of the marvelous maps detailing World War II battles.
A final view of the sea.
Mahalo much, dear Hawaii!
Tags: Traveling
