Fun Activities of To Day

1. Build a piñata.
2. Grease my wheel axles on my bicycle.
3. Hunt for a rainbow.
4. Expel music from soul.
5. Anticipate something delicious.
6. Smell a familiar scent that triggers nostalgia.
7. Write blog by candlelight.

Music makes the people come together

Growing up and being from Hawai'i has been difficult for me from a racial perspective. I am constantly asked where I am from, without a thought that it may be here, due to my skin color. At times it makes me feel misplaced and unwelcome. When I was 6 I dropped out of hula lessons because "I was the only girl with yellow hair". I don't know if I was teased or it was my choice. When I was a teenager, I was sent to "white school", mostly because the public education system in Hawai'i is touted to be one of the worst in the nation and my parents believe fiercely in education. While I was there, there was talk of getting school shirts, but there was also talk of people beating us up if we had school shirts from the "white school". Some of my old classmates might remember me from elementary school, because I went to public school then, but going to private school isolated me even further from being a "local". I feel that I am constantly trying to prove something because it's really hard when you don't feel allowed to call where you grew up your home. I call it the Hawai'i tax, it is one of a few prices for living in paradise. At least I'm not a white male, I feel like it is even harder to integrate in some ways because you have to deal with more physical violence.
But it's not all bad, I can't say that my upbringing was more plagued by racism than bullying. It just that there is more of a context to discuss bullying, whereas it is harder to discuss skin color. It's uncomfortable and weird and I find it difficult to find the right language to use. Some people may have the perspective that I should have nothing to complain about considering "my people" forcefully took over this land. It is hard to conceptualize. What do I do?
Well, I happened to discover yesterday what to do. Yesterday was the first day that I decided I am going to carry around my ukulele everywhere I go and it was quite a discovery. My ukulele flirted with a 'local' boy at the bus stop, started a conversation with a white 'local' woman reading a magazine, delighted some australian tourists, manifested a mini-concert with a 'local' Phillipino man at the gas station, and brought all kinds of questions from all sorts of people at a lounge where I went to see some live piano music. My ukulele is a social creature that does not discriminate across race, class, or gender. My ukulele is a building block in the bridge to a united people.
So I encourage everyone…"VIVE LE MUSIQUE!"

By: Rose Sylvester

Grimes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FH-q0I1fJY

A Camino Experience

I am so excited for you in your thoughts of walking the Camino.  It was certainly one of the highlights of my life and I continue to reminisce about it - the beautiful paths and vistas, the people I met on the path, the solitude, the coming together in the hostels each evening with people from around the world, and even my stay in the hospital where the staff were so kind and my roommates and their family became like my family despite the language barrier.   I still think often of the husband of one of my hospital roommates who took me under his wing. His name was Benino and he slept by his wife's bed every night (as he had done every night for the past 4 months apparently). He was so devoted to her, helping her with all her meals and keeping her company.  He knew a tiny bit of English and would introduce me to everyone who came into the room (and there were many) with great pride as if I were a special friend of his.  I was Carol from Canada, no Espanol, perigrina (pilgrim), walk 500 kilometres!  He would bring me water and magazines in Spanish so I could look at the pictures and make sure I was comfortable in a foreign land.  The day I left the hospital, after being there not quite three days, I went to his wife's bed and spoke to her in English and wished her well and thanked her for being such a lovely roommate ( she was completely immobile yet only in her late 40s).  She had such kind eyes and took my hand, smiled and spoke to me in Spanish. It didn't matter that we couldn't understand each other, we communicated so well that day we parted.  Benino escorted me to the front door carrying my backpack for me  (I didn't know the way out), and hailed a taxi for me. When I turned to him to say goodbye and thank him for all his kindness he was close to tears as was I knowing we would never see each other again.  He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me the European kiss on each cheek and then I left.  I write this story to let you know about one experience on the Camino.  I will treasure it forever.  I also want to say that the Camino is many things, it is not just a walk.  When you would like, I can give you some practical tips about the Camino, including one book that is a necessity to have while walking.  There are also several books people have written about their experiences while walking the Camino which I really enjoyed prior to going that I can tell you about. This makes me want to go again!  I do have to finish my walk which has now been delayed, likely, until 2015. I only have 40 km to go and will be so excited to walk, rather than enter Santiago de Compostela by ambulance.  I really want to attend the special ceremony for the peregrinos in the cathedral - make sure you plan for that.

By: Carol Huber

The Voice

Oh my lovely ladies, strong and brute

Who hear the little voices shout,

"Just be cute."

Women who shun the razor

In favour of their nature,

And hear the little voices shout,

"That's not what you're about."

Girls who catch un-made-up reflections

And take pleasure in what they see,

While the little voices, locked away

Lie screaming, "you will never be free."

No, she knows, so long as she's here

Among the cacophony of views 

Of femininity askewed

That the little voices, her falsest friends

     with their neverending lists of

     unpurchased deadends

Will dim to an undecipherable din

So that the only voice heard is that of

The girl, the woman, the lady

Pursuing her rightful destiny. 

By: Andrea Werhun

How to Interact with an Introvert

http://themetapicture.com/how-to-interact-with-the-introverted/

Contributed by: Hayley Easto

Driving on the Island of Kauai

I recently had the challenge of driving both on Crete and in Tuscany. I have discovered that there is a "road culture" in the different places that I have driven. The culture on the Island of Kauai is even different than Oahu's. 

Kauai's drivers are made up of a mix of locals and tourists. The tourists are trying to find their way while enjoying the phenomenal scenery, whereas the locals are extremely familiar with their environment. We drive within a very small space over and over again so we know every twist and turn. Kauai's drivers can be very courteous. They usually make way for cars entering into traffic. I learned in Europe that being courteous is dangerous because the other drivers expect you to be aggressive. Kauai's local drivers will not be surprised if you take a little extra time to help out a fellow driver.

We can be lax at stopping at crosswalks though. We come from a culture of darting across the road when there is opportunity. We don't worry because we usually don't have too much traffic.  When you are stopping at a crosswalk be aware of the car behind you and how close they are.

Driving on Kauai is easy; one main road going from the west to the north and back. You can't go around the island because of the the beautiful, protected Na Pali coastline. It does get very dark at night so allow extra time and learn your turn off from the highway. Vacationing on Kauai does necessitate renting a car unless you are very adventuresome and don't mind infrequent buses. Driving is easy for almost everyone here because we don't have too many people on Kauai. The most difficult part of being a Kauai driver is resisting the temptation to peer at the world class scenery!

By: Linda Sylvester

On Loneliness

Loneliness is ones experience of searching for oneself.  When you are lonely you are missing 'yourself' ! Who are you but more importantly who do you want to be? Your intentions will create your reality. First and most importantly find yourself. Fall in love with yourself. Be overjoyed with who you are. Believe you are good enough. Tell yourself you are superb. Then go out and be superb. 

By: Mary Brockman

The World

What have I learned?

That the world is round

That the world is turning.

To know

To know about

To know round about

Round about nothing, no essence, only the turning and moving.

And never the same.

People

People are

People are never the same either

that’s why

and it’s normal

everything’s crazy, but it’s normal.

By: Kayla Morin

"Remember, loneliness is designed to help you discover who you are, and to stop looking outside yourself for your worth."

Reflection upon this quote: 

Design. Discover. Cease the search external. 

Commence the voyage internal. Eternally. 

Seeking. Yearning. Weaping. Learning. 

Yet to be attained. Deeply rooted, retained. 

It exists without sight. To see, you see, is my plight. 

Eyes untrained. Restless soul, untamed. 

To ease, not just appease.

Peace, unto the pieces of me that are so broken...

Lord, help me. 

Help me to achieve. Love. Peace. <3 

By: Christina Cole

It's not me, it's you

Why don't you see me anymore?
Why don't you say hello?
Did I not wave the proper way?
Did I come on too strong?
Is there somebody else?
No. We wouldn't have connected so much if there was.
Or maybe we didn't.
Maybe it was me, maybe it's always me.
Maybe I'm too picky.
Maybe I'm too quiet.
Maybe I'm too hairy?
Maybe I'm too large?
Maybe I'm just not what you're looking for.
Maybe you're just not what I'm looking for.
Maybe my subconscious knows something.
Maybe I'm giving you too much credit.
Maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit?
That's it. I'm not. I'm not too picky, too quiet,
Too hairy, or too large. I'm fine just the way I am.
I love myself for hating those things.
You don't know it, but I'm quite a catch.
And you didn't see it.
Good luck to you, but I have better things to do..
Than spend my time, chasing you.

By: Amber Urbshas

Winter Wants

There’s a flurry of a snowstorm out my window, the sky sits stark as flurries dizzies themselves from the ground and speckles the streets. The wind startles the window, with its deep howl, more snow billows from the trees.

Water from the bin over my heater has evaporated. And it’s still a wonder that to touch the window is to touch the cold, without actually touching the cold air. The snow blows diagonals as a rush of cloud softens the scene: cars sleeping under snowy blankets, trees dressed in icy jewelry, houses dusted in sugar.

And I’m here in the warmth of my blanket in the soft of my bed, flicking for my nipple to harden. This snow will erase all the him’s in my life and remind me of the multiple me’s. Yet there are sounds in the house and my breast feels cool once I withdraw my hand. A single sharp footstep, doors creaking, all this wind. Neighbours’ movement. Being startled too easily, ecstasy tainted by fear. It all too hard to understand what I want.

The science of reading haunts like a headache. I dropped my book, as it can only stimulate my mind and I seek to stimulate the body. So with a deep breath and deep lunge under underwear, my hand starts a journey and finally, finally I please myself. Erased all guilty attachments. The freedom to moan and hear my voice echo in an empty room arouses me more. One witness. Multiple orgasms.

I can lie down in bed past the noon hour with lulling eyes and fingers twisting my hair. A smell captured in blankets rises when I release myself. A pleasure felt only when being alone. And it’s hellishly cold out there, but I’m ok. Even the beige pillows sit up like a lazy lover. This thought holds no melancholy for me. The hum from the heater sits on my chest. A morning tear. Maybe it’s peace.

By: Whitney French

Doco: Janis Joplin

http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/janis-joplin-her-final-hours/#disqus_thread

Emotional Eating

I shove it into my mouth, disregarding what it is, mash it with my teeth so I can swallow as fast as I can.

I just want to fill the emptiness, fill the loneliness, fill the absence with something, anything.

Open the fridge again grab the first thing I see, drink it down, wash away my shame, glad that no one is home to watch. Secretive, silent, stealthy.

Sugar, comfort food, addiction, quantity.

More, more, more till it won't fit.

Sit in shame, sit in discomfort, something to take place of the mental pain. Which is worse?

Go lie down, want to fall asleep to make the discomfort go away, but my stomach is too full. I feel gross. I want to throw up, but I can't muster the effort.

Finally fall asleep, only to wake up with a discomforting reminder that turns into a chronic problem.

Years of stomach aches, trying to eat my loneliness one morsel at a time, but it never seems to run out.

Trying to find another way.

The Invisible Bike Helmet

http://www.travelinggreener.com/cycling/invisible-bike-helmet-from-sweden/

In the News Today

http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130821-why-so-few-women-conductors

M.I.A. interview on NPR

http://www.npr.org/2013/11/05/243083622/i-built-the-platform-myself-m-i-a-on-being-heard

Under the Boardwalk: A Ukulele Love Story

http://www.ninakoocherfilms.com/film/uncategorized/under-the-boardwalk-a-ukulele-love-story

Ukulele Genius

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8yZfTqm4HnY

Safety

There's something about waking up at 5am when the sun hasn't come up yet and everyone else in the house is still sleeping that makes me feel a sort of excitement. That I need to sneak around so I don't wake anyone else up and in doing so I feel like I'm on a secret mission. Unfortunately along with my secret mission ploy comes out my fear of darkness. It's hard to know the line between rational and irrational when you are afraid of something. I once dated a guy when I had just moved to Victoria, BC and when we first started dating he refused to walk me from the bus stop to his house when it was nighttime. This was a deal breaker for me, I knew from that moment that our relationship wouldn't last very long, yet there were still 5 months of it to go.

Where does this fear come from? When should I listen to it and when should I push through? Is it ever a good idea to walk around a city at night by yourself? I find that the people that grew up in a place are often more likely to be comfortable travelling around by foot wherever they please, depending on if they have come upon unfortunate circumstances at some point in their lives.

I was once mugged by kids with guns on the edge of "the bad part" of NDG in Montreal, QB. I was 17 years old and had just left home 6 weeks previous for the first time. It was 7pm and I was on my way home from French class. Afterwards, I thought that if I'm not safe on my way home from class, then when am I safe? It's been 8 years and I still haven't forgotten the terror I felt. Will I ever?

Being afraid isn't always beneficial. When fear strikes my heart strong enough, then I become paralysed. I'm neither fight, nor flight, but the third 'f' which is freeze. When I was mugged I froze so completely that I forgot how to speak. My tongue and my mouth and my vocal cords weren't able to coordinate for a while afterwards. Try explaining that to the family who's door you're pounding on like your life depends on it. They were very nice. My mother sent them a gift basket.

Shit happens. It's not likely, and it can't be predicted and I don't believe that I can be prepared for it. Living in fear doesn't enhance my life, it makes it harder. I know to take certain precautions, which is one of the many reasons that I imbibe very little alcohol and why I have become somewhat of a bicycle expert.

But the fear still pervades, and it's not just me because I can feel it from my parents when I am far away and from other's around me. It's hard to feel truly safe.

By: Rose 

Just the Fat Facts- An Article

http://everydayfeminism.com/2013/04/just-the-fat-facts-maam/