If My Life Were A Movie

I am in the quintessence of tropicality right now.  If you saw me, you’d think I was in the movies.  (Except in the movies there would be a few fewer clouds… the lighting is not Hollywood in the least… too dark and flat.  But who ever said anything about Hollywood?  This is an independent film all the way, my friends!)  There’s a retired guava plantation at the end of the street I live on and some innovative folks have recently opened a restaurant here… called “The Garden”.  It’s called The Garden because there is a large, organic permaculture garden here that produces the majority of the food for the restaurant!  All of the seating is outdoors on a covered, airy patio.  I am nestled at the table closest to the gardens and I watch the wind flirtatiously tug at all shapes and textures of green leaves that grace the garden.  And too, the same Great Breath licks playfully at my salt strewn hair, pulling it in slow motion, this way and that.


Awe!  I just watched the head chef deliver two artful plates of food to a man and a woman sitting near me.  They looked so delighted.  They both folded their hands in prayer over their hearts and I saw their lips sincerely trace the syllables, “thank you”.  Now they are softly holding hands across the table, eyes closed speaking sweet words of gratitude.  Watching them a gentle, warm breeze blows right through my heart.


The cherry on top of this cosmetically near perfect scene is the traditional, soothing Hawaiian music that serenades us.  So far I’ve painted an idyllic picture… but there is a vague hint of discord lurking in the shadows.  I don’t know exactly what it is… nor do I care.  It feels like when a cloud drifts in front of the sun and the world dips temporarily into darkness.  Just so you see the full picture… See a verdant world in languid, rocking motion.  See a patio strewn with textbook, new age island types (sensitive ponytail men and slender, radiant women all of whom appear to have a proclivity for juice fasting) eating from plates loaded with vibrant organic matter of every color of the rainbow.  Hear an invisible, tender hearted Hawaiian man playing his guitar and singing in an ancient and almost altogether lost tongue (barely any native Hawaiians know how to speak, because when the tighty whities conquered, we forbid them to speak in their native tongue.  Sick…).  And hear the purring of birds or crickets humming behind his honeyed voice.  See Athena Grace~ eyes intently scanning the horizons of lost cities Inside, reaching for glowing words as the wind plays with her salty mermaid hair.


Awe!  Jay (the chef) just brought me a plate with some bits of “healthy” cookie on it!  I don’t normally eat cookies (even if they’re wheat and gluten free)… but it blows to refuse hospitality.  So I’ll eat them in the same spirit as I eat the hershy kiss that Amma offers as Prasad after she dons her sacred hug~ receiving them as pure LOVE.  Yum!  The first one is gingersnap.  In the body of Jesus H!  Amen!


Jay took me on a date the other night.  He bought a poem from me the other day… and one thing led to another.  It was a fun date!  He picked me up on his vintage motorcycle (I think if I knew anything about motorcycles, I would be totally impressed.  “She” is old and shiny and overall “purdy”.)  He asked me earlier in the day if I preferred to go out to dinner or do snax in nature.  I said surprise me.  (I like to practice relinquishing attachment because in my “real” life, I can be very particular about how I like things.  Some might even venture so far as to call me a… GASP… “control freak”.  Mykael?  Any comment? ;-p)


I hopped on the back of his growling, two wheeled bitch, wrapped my arms around his unfamiliar, warm, slightly soft waist and off we sped into the sunset.  We really did.  The sun was setting as we rolled north along the highway toward Hanalei.  As if the thrill of being on a cool motorcycle with a potentially cool guy in the deep throat of paradise wasn’t enough… the clouds were EPIC Maxfield Parish-esque specimens.  Think brazen kernels of holy popcorn.  Think stark contours that spanned chasms of burning peach, smirking lavender, sweet smoke and blazing white.  I was able to gaze skyward as we rode and behold the treetops, which fingered the sky in intricate fractal patterns.  Every once and a while Jay would pull off at a scenic outlook so that we could take as many unbridled, soulful sips as we fancied.  Each sequential view was less overtly striking as the sun fell further below the horizon.  But this is a good thing!  It challenged me to nurse the subtleties of Mother Nature’s endless splendor.  (Mykael, mister slinger of two art degrees taught me this refined, maturity of seeing.  I’m very glad.  In fact, I have been reflecting a lot lately on our relationship… trying to untangle the imperfect mess of it’s blessed actuality and integrate and recognize the journey we co-traversed… and I am feeling a deep strength born of gratitude.  I love who I am RIGHT NOW.  And HE helped me get here.  He helped me more fully own and engage my artistry and myself as woman.  Awesome!)


I was delighted when the said motorcycle rolled up to the fancy tapas restaurant in downtown Hanalei!  It always looks so alluring, with its blazing tiki torches and patio seating.  We sat at the bar, where I felt entirely over stimulated, between the front row view of the frenetic, artistic chefs, charming, fresh ingredients and warm dancing fires of the grill, a big screen TV, silently playing an old movie staring polished nineteen fifties women who smoked cigarettes, drank hard liquor and appeared to be expertly carved from alabaster, sexy down temp music, menus to peruse.  PHEW!  I feel washed with saucy fever just recalling it all!


But I somehow managed to feel my butt in the chair and breathe after the initial startling gear shift… Hallelujah!  I realize that it would be zzzzzzzz boring for me to recount the whole evening, play by play… so lemme reach inside and tease out the most important highlights for you.  One was indulging in a casual slew of sips of Jay’s complex, heavy-ish bodied red wine (a Rioja).  I haven’t had wine in quite some time… and I was especially struck by its high level of lascivious deliciousness!  And call me old fashioned… (grin)… but I’m a sucker for fresh, warm bread and butter.  I never eat it… except at fancy restaurants.  Little nibbles of bread DRENCHED in oceans of sweet, creamy butter.  Gasp!  And last but maybe the most memorable was the house made chorizo sausage.  The wily orchestra of spices and greasy meat juices played my mouth like an opus exploded straight from God’s drunken genius.


Yes, and beyond the poetic immediacy in my mouth, Jay was stellar company.  Our minds merged and traversed many diverse landscapes.  I imagined they would… or I would not have gone out with him in the first place.  To Athena Grace LMNOP, there is nothing more torturous than narrow bandwidthed company.  I confessed to him that I was taking a year off of relationships… just so he didn’t get the “wrong idea”.  I told him I was interested in exploring… exploring the nuances of the timeless, fascinating dance between the masculine and the feminine.  But more as research and good theater than agendas and happily ever afters.  He’s a good candidate for this… because I know I could never “fall in love” with him… Yet, I can conceive of genuine intimacy, deepening, play and warmth.  (Yes, I’m aware that I said that about my undercover He-man writing partner yesterday… but with Jay I mean it!  I’m laughing at myself, because I feel like the girl who cried wolf…  Oh well.  Either you believe me or you don’t… But at the end of the day what matters is am I being honest with ME…)


After dinner we hopped back on his motorcycle and cruised through delicate rain, thick blackness, silken, tropical night air and churning seas of stars to HIS PLACE.  But if we were in the movies, the audience would have been quite disappointed.  He lit some candles and we flopped on his couch and talked ourselves empty.  Then he drove me home and I dissolved immediately into a pool of contented slumber.



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. souldipper
    Oct 13, 2010 @ 19:44:37

    I love going on all these dates and not having to worry about what to wear! 🙂 This is fun!


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