“I went to Honolulu to stay a fortnight, and remained two years.” I’m rephrasing the legendary literary hero, Mark Twain as he visited the island in the mid-19th century.
“I never spent so pleasant a month before or bade any place goodbye so regretfully. I have not once thought of business or care or human toil or trouble or sorrow or weariness and the memory of it will remain with me always.”
Over a century and a half later, I jetted in with one lonely piece of hand luggage on a free flight courtesy of DHL couriers, and life was never quite the same after that.
I barely needed much persuading to go. Although when my friend Penny Brady suggested it, I had a wonderful job in a leading London ad agency and a steady boyfriend.
Our biggest client, DHL, let us have free flights to escort luggage. You could only take hand luggage. I booked a staff flight, handed in my notice and flew to Honolulu with a small backpack, sans luggage.
Not stop, Uncle Bud’s house. We stashed our bags at his impossibly cute wooden house up in Pacific Heights and hit the beach. I had an inkling then knew I didn’t want to go home. In the end, neither of us did. Poor Uncle Bud, he patiently tolerated our newfound lifestyle which meant having fun 24/7 and duping someone to taxi us back to our hilltop abode.
What I didn’t imagine was that I’d fall under the spell of this magical destination and would never, ever shake it off. So now I get it Mr Twain. I still picture my first swim on Waikiki beach; jettisoned around in the surf, being cocooned by waves while watching rainbows across the distant mountain range. Watching those sunsets. Catching those waves. The call of Pele?
Almost every touristic cliche I’d seen in movies was there but in big bold technicolour, amplified with a blast of ocean scented warm air, and what I now realise, bathed in a frothy energy from ancient Mu.
We toured the well worn sights; Mr Twain’s favourite pink Royal Hawaiian Hotel for cocktails, the Hana’uma Bay for swimming with tame fish and explored the north shore’s famous surf pipeline. Shopping for beautiful flower leis in the markets made us feel like Polynesian goddesses. I still adore the smell of plumeria (or frangipani) and white ginger.
Soon my three weeks was up; I was deeply unpopular with some of the folks back home when I didn’t return. My career change from secretary to Waikiki rickshaw driver was a happy curveball. What better way to keep fit, sunbathe and boogie board all day, charging $40 a ride, while turning down an endless stream of dinner invitations? Needless to say, it never made my CV.
Naively, we considered ourselves locals renting our own apartment near the Alawai canal near ‘the strip’. Over the following months I discovered the beauty of Oahu and other other islands. Although we knew we were just ‘haoles’’ ‘kamaiinas’ (newcomers). All along.
One time myths are now exploding into mainstream geography. An emerging body of evidence reveals that the Hawaiiain chain is the remnants of Ancient Atlantis – or Lemuria.
About ancient Mu
I later discovered we were living on an earth chakra points – where energy spirals and flows down like a faucet. The earth’s chakra points magnify the energy correlated to the body’s chakras. When you immerse yourself in these energy fields, your own physical electromagnetic field will become aligned with the frequency of the chakra point you are in.
For example, Maui’s Haleakala volcano resonates at 7.8 hz/second, the same as the earths. And that of our own human hearts.
Maui’s energy is feminine, linked to 5th dimension energy, so they are telling us to expect Lemurian memories to flow. It sounds far fetched but I love it.
Could it be true? No wonder this place lures so many honeymooners and visitors all year round and has inspired so many works of art and Hollywood films.
According to legend, the mountain Mauna Kea on the Big island is an ancient vortex that is being triggered open for these times. The islands are full of vibrating energy sites. For example, the Waipi’o Valley in Kauai was a place of refuge, ceremony and burial ground for the Kings.
Other civilisations like the Maya, Inca, Tibet, Hindu, and Aztec claim they originated from Lemuria which sank over 13,000 years ago, back before the times of Atlantis. Ancient Lemurians were heart centred beings with a higher consciousness.
Living in Waikiki, we didn’t manage to engage with authentic culture. Instead, we found the Polynesian lifestyle to be ‘Disneyfied’ at best, and elsewhere, seriously repressed. There is still a gulf between the affluent tourists and the Polynesian communities who can barely afford to live on this prime piece of real estate.
Hawaiian language and arts have suffered, some calling it ‘the longest occupation in US history’ after the ruling Monarch Queen Lili’uokalani lost her Kingdom by being overthrown in 1893. Appallingly, many were punished for speaking Hawaiian, and it would not be heard in schools for four generations. The native hula dance was made illegal to perform in public.
Luckily there’s a powerful renaissance amongst the local community, not just on Oahu but on other islands like Maui,Kauai and the Big Island . Famous singers like ‘Iz’ (who sadly passed) are revered all over the world, for his signature song ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’.
Revival of language and hula are being led by Hawaii’s kahunas, or elders. Visitors are drawn to sacred site like the Waip’o valley on Kauai and countless other locations.
Finally, thousands are swapping the modern condo and golf for healing retreats. Connecting with the true spirit and learning about communities, these more intimate stays range from wellness/naturopathy, yoga, spiritual, creative studies or organic food farmstays.
Aloha nui.
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