13. I Got In Trouble

Will I be Kaua'i's next local Facebook scandal?

Blog Overview: Conflict Alchemy / What is Mine? / Kaua'i's Pain

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“Are you peeing?” she inquired.

Holding my pee, I thought: Um, not yet….

“Hold on, I’ve got to deal with this.” She hung up the phone.

I pulled up my pants and braced myself. Here we go…

“Did you really just pee next to my apartment?”

Tone of voice: nearly tipping into rage

Body language: smoking a cigarette and ready to fight

“You’re disgusting! Are you crazy? Next time you do that, I’m going to call the police. Why would you do that?” And I mean, she was giving it to me.

I recognized that nothing I could say or do would help her need for respect and consideration be met, so I went to my toolkit.

Marshall B. Rosenberg would recommend apologizing and taking accountability as a first step.

“I’m sorry Auntie. I didn’t end up pee-”

“You’re on private property. I’m going to get the footage from our cameras!”

Then, she hit record to document the atrocity (aka me), her phone just a foot from my face. I withdrew a plumeria flower tucked behind my ear and hid behind it.

“What? Now you want to hide?” She was so ready to spotlight me. I was to be her local scandal blasted all over the Facebook pages.

I felt overwhelmed and had nowhere to turn for privacy, so I hid behind my arm.

“Auntie, please stop. Don’t record me.”

I just wanted to handle the situation like two adults, but it was clear that she was way too triggered to go through the process of re-harmonizing. I was fully aware that an apology was due, but based on how she was already handling the situation, that was simply not available. The anger was too alluring for her and she wanted the soapbox.

She recorded me all the way into the grocery store. There I was, getting escorted (at least I played with that imagery) to face my judge: the store manager. She declared loud enough for everyone in the store to hear (and ideally join in with her scolding and belittling) that I peed next to her apartment complex.

I went right to shopping, now laughing to myself at the absurdity of the scene. She didn’t get the manager’s validation since it wasn’t grocery store property and left. I purchased my produce and apologized.

“There’s a public bathroom down the road by the skatepark” he said annoyed. They had just opened. What a way to start his day…

I walked to the coffee shop deep in introspection, my heavy backpacking pack loaded with a few groceries and the essentials for a week of flowy travel on Kaua’i.

When I squatted in that grass my bladder was about to explode, but after all that chaos, it’s as if the pee shot right back up. I don’t even have to pee.

What kind of karma do the two of us have for such a heightened energetic rupture? Did you notice that you froze a bit when she went into fight mode? Curious…

It’s okay. I forgive you, Riddle. You’re safe. Clearly most of that was hers. But still, it takes two to tango, so let’s get honest. What was your role?

With a crappy yet expensive coffee, I left the drama behind me for some time and worked on my novel as I waited for the bus.

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Guess what, readers. I got in trouble TWICE that day! Ready for the next one?

It started as a kindness. An act of service. Really, it was just a necessity.

My dear friend picked me up from the bus stop so we could catch up at her luxurious home. As we drove up her driveway, thick with overgrown and yellowed Ti fighting for sunlight, I knew I’d pay it forward by doing some gardening. The ground was littered with leaves that had dropped over time and it was clear no one had tended to the Ti in many, many years.

For some context:

Ti – or Ki in ‘Olelo, the Hawaiian language – is a protector plant that grows abundantly on the Hawaiian Islands. The Hawaiian people plant Ti all around their homes to keep out dark spirits.

Call it superficial or woo-woo, but during my four years here it has been crystal clear that there are beings who wander between the veil, whether for loving or avenging purposes. Don’t just take my word for it. There are plenty of stories out there, if you’re interested enough to look into it.

One major lesson I’ve learned while living on these sacred islands is that the more you give, the more you receive. So, when I see a Ti plant that needs help shedding, I groom them. I give them a few moments of consideration, tending to their needs. I do this when I’m on walks, at the grocery store, and even at other people’s houses. After all, they have given me so much.

After catching up with my friend for a few hours, I went down her driveway with a wheelbarrow and excitement. I worked alone for a while, making sure to remove the lowest Ti leaf and moving up from there, honoring the instructions my teacher shared with me: Respect the Ti. Take care of them and they’ll take care of you.

I was having a blast! It felt rewarding to be of service, especially tending to a grove of Ti, one of my favorite plant allies. There were curious little Mo’o dragons (native lizards) that I befriended and admired, the sun hid behind clouds, the neighbor’s dog was mad-chillin in the driveway, and the ocean view was as spectacular as the Sleeping Giant Mountain backdrop.

Then, the neighbor came outside. Her phone was by her ear, as if she were on a call, but she wasn’t talking. The look she gave me was priceless. To her, I was a mad woman dressed in a classy white jumpsuit with striking black lines doing her gardening.

After I realized what was going on, I spoke: “Hi, umm…. I’m your neighbor’s friend. Just doing some yard work to help out.”

“Those are my Ti.”

“Oh, I ummm….well…”

“I don’t know why she would tell you to garden here. This is my land.”

My land reverberated in my ears. The same theme was up.

“I mean, the Ti need it. I don’t mind. I love Ti!”

She softened. I sensed she could feel my inner child’s purity and the energy shifted.

“My boyfriend is going to love this. Were so busy in the garden and haven’t ever gotten around to the Ti. Go get um!” she finally replied, taking advantage of free labor.

Sweet, I won her over! That wasn’t so bad.

I kept at my work, praying with the Ti to protect the people living in the vicinity. As I groomed the plants, I could feel their relief. They looked so much more vibrant. When the rain came through and the wheelbarrow was full, I bowed out.

I thought to myself: I could pick up the ones on the ground too….but it’s raining and the wheelbarrow is already spilling over.

Instead, I relaxed inside, feeling so connected with myself and the island of Kaua’i. I had worked on three different parcels of land during the six days I was traveling, giving back to the island as I would a lover. “Kaua’i has my whole heart,” as I tell her frequently.

But that all changed when my friend got a nasty call from the neighbor saying I didn’t finish the job.

The Ti leaves on the ground…

I felt annoyed because her focus was on the negative rather than on the effort it took to get the Ti looking fresh and happy. Regardless, we walked down with my friend’s cat and finished the job. I did my best not to take it personal.

The dog was still laying around alone as we raked the leaves on the ground, but when the neighbor came outside with aggression, the dog’s energy changed. It went from admiring the cat to randomly (and for the first time ever) chasing the cat, ready to kill.

I was deep in witnessing, tracking with the subtle and not-so-subtle ways people impact the field, project their stories, and influence other beings with their resentments and anger.

What is going on here? I wondered to myself.

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Have you caught on to the overlapping theme of the two stories?

First, I pee on someone’s property. Then, I care for someone’s land without asking.

To them, I was marking my territory on their land. I was trespassing. And I was absolutely CRAZY!

The theme on Kaua’i that is most troubling to me is MY LAND.

The two ladies were triggered by me because I don’t align with that Western concept of land possession. On both occasions, I was reasonably grounded and calm, mostly unaffected by their reactions because I recognized it was not mine to hold. Even when I felt overwhelmed by the lady recording me, I ended up just facing the camera for about 30 seconds as she chastised me, getting every last detail of my face so she could forever remember me as “that asshole.”

I’ve been living where we shower with rain water and poop into buckets. This isn’t gross to me. For many reasons, I prefer this lifestyle when it’s done hygienically. It’s sustainable. The poop gets composted, turns to rich soil, and feeds the trees. On the Big Island…the land of LAVA…we have to generate soil, otherwise the roots must fight for nutrition from the black lava rock. Yes, they can do it, but they thrive when we help. And peeing on the Earth...that’s just so normal to me, even when I have to tuck between two cars to pee on a patch of grass.

But I wasn’t in Kansas anymore…I mean Big Island!

I was on Kaua’i in one of the more city-like areas. The spot I chose to pee was not ideal. If three people peed there every week, the smell would likely waft into the lady’s kitchen while she’s sipping on her coffee and smoking a cigarette.

My role in the conflict stemmed from a lack of consideration of others. I knew there to be homes in that building where I was peeing nearby, but still I succumbed to my bladder’s pressure. Waste management systems are put in place to avoid the spread of diseases, but this was not on my radar what so ever. Yes, there was a lack of awareness around my impact on others. Self-absorbed. A little too country. Dirty hippy.

Immediately, I argue that my pee is like rain water since I’m so pure.

As for the other lady’s reaction to me caring for the Ti… it actually felt like she was embarrassed that she wasn’t the one caring for her land. I looked the part of the white, well-off savior in that moment and she wasn’t having it.

Ultimately, the takeaway is that there are many people living in Hawai’i and worldwide convinced that it’s righteous to live by the mindset of land ownership. When she said “my land”, I had this ah-ha moment of deep listening with the island. Kaua’i is a small, spectacular island that tourists devour. Gentrification is horrendous. There’s a revolving door of people coming and going. And the worst part is, the land and native peoples are hurting because of it. There’s an intense housing crisis. Landlords are entirely out of integrity, preferring to tenant Californians with fat wallets to the struggling locals. There are a lot of extremes on island. The billionaires don’t share and the poor are suffering. When people do have a home and land to care for, they are protective. Understandably.

It felt like a gift to have that experience, to feel her fear. I got first-hand perspective on some of the island’s deepest wounds, shared with me through two locals - though not Hawaiians, I should clarify.

I don’t care how people perceive me. I recognize that my embodiment will continue to trigger people. However, I do very much desire to be sensitive to how other people function in the world, not to avoid conflict, rather to be neutral and loving as it arises. The lesson from the Ti experience: be considerate of other people’s perspectives, needs, and preferences. Though I may not align with certain beliefs, I don’t have to abandon my values in order to placate other people. But I also don’t need to parade my beliefs around and trigger the fuck out of people.

The process of bringing consciousness to ancestral pain is varying. Some, like me, hop right on board when the path presents itself. Others are trepidatious and take more lifetimes to muster the courage to face their fears, pains, and stories. And then there are even more who are thoroughly convinced they are happier avoiding it all. They’d rather fuel a machine of enslavement.

I honestly had a lot of clarity after processing these events. As they were happening, I knew that I was about to have a deeper alignment with my true self. More than anything, I recognized my capacity and willingness to face what feels uncomfortable. The witnessing consciousness exemplified my commitment to keeping my heart open when the waters are rough. I’m not mastered in this, but I’m practicing. It was simply beautiful to see myself stay curious, rather than immediately go to blame.

I’d like to add that the topic of colonization on the Hawaiian Islands and the continued impacts of Westernized imposition feels terrifying to address. Four years has been immensely awakening, but there is still so so so much I have to learn. I know for a fact that I have a lot more work to clear out my entitlement, pay my reparations, learn about the native culture, and live in a consciously inclusive way. That said, the more acknowledgement and awareness that gets shared, the more quickly change will happen. We are doing it together!

Last bit: if you read my last blog, which was an impossibly challenging and unsolvable abstract riddle, you may have gathered that the grasshopper who journeyed with me on MDMA instructed me to visit Kaua’i, hence why I went on the short, impromptu vacation. Turns out, that trip was to show me what I truly desire….to move back to Kaua’i! In two months, I’ll transition back to my first Hawaiian home. My intention is to bring ecstatic dance to the community, continue re-writing my book, deep dive into other artistic expressions, and to be of service.

Those two stories I shared were a testament to Kaua’i’s pains and how I’ll need to walk with heightened awareness and integrity on her lands. I’ll be volunteering regularly on Hawaiian lands, will always invite Kanaka (native Hawaiians) to any events I host for free, and will only work for people who are in integrity with community and sustainable efforts, no matter how enticing the money.

It's time to step into my Higher Plan, and my goodness do I feel ready!

Love,

Riddlez

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