The Power of Choice

As adults, we make thousands of choices everyday. Some are little - should I enter the turn lane now or go after that black car? Others are big - what career path do I want to begin next?
When you look up choice in the dictionary, Webster uses a very key word in the definition - "Power." We have the power to choose. And when we use this power, every choice we make starts to create our reality. Even in the most simple terms: you are in the room you are in now because you chose to walk into it. Where you are now is because of path you chose.

Sounds wide open, doesn't it? We all start out with this power to choose absolutely anything, but then we limit that power.  Our choices are swayed by internal variables like our beliefs (what we believe we are capable of, what we believe we deserve, etc.) and also external variables like our physical surroundings. I worked a lot in my twenties to become aware of all the variables that swayed my choices and to break free from them. I found that my decisions were often based around what society dictated the "right" thing to do was, the fear of not being accepted or liked for my decision, obligations I had accepted, and my past programming from parents, teachers and the dream of the planet. By getting outside of these molds, my choices ended up being more unconventional, having more possibility and were more my own. This helped me shape a life that is truly tailored to me.

On my latest trip to England and Scotland, I found one more huge variable I didn't realize still swayed my path: Attachment.
But before I tell you the story, I'd like to give you a visual to help extrapolate how these variables I am talking about narrow your choices, lesson your power.

So, let's say that every line on this page is a path you can choose next, a direction you could possibly go. Picking any line from the bottom of the image and heading up or out.
That's a lot of options for you to choose from.

Now let's add in the effects of past conditioning from your parents, your teachers, your role models. Your choices are affected by what they would do, what they have taught you is the safe route, the best route to go. Let's say the shaded red areas (in the image below) are all the choices you rule out because it wouldn't be in alignment of what you have learned, how you have been conditioned.  The lines in the white space remaining are the only choices you would make, naturally, not going against your conditioning into the red zone.

Next, let's add in your beliefs of what you think is possible for you. People rarely choose to undertake something they think is impossible, something they know is out of reach. Beliefs are something intangible that actually keep us from physically doing many things. (Ever been asked - what would you do if you thought nothing was impossible? Opens up a lot of choices, doesn't it? ;)
Let's say that the green shaded areas are paths that are off limits in your mind because you don't believe you can achieve them. See how that green color of belief blocks most paths from reaching as high as the page goes? Now your power of choice is limited to only the paths in the white space because you won't go against your conditioning, and you won't go against your beliefs. These internal aspects are limiting your power of choice to just a few center lines.

Okay, now let's say when you go to make your choice you hesitate because you feel obligated. This is the pink line. You will only choose the pink line as your path because you feel obligated to do something. All other options are ruled out because you are going to choose to do what you feel you have to.  Same goes with attachment. When you are attached to things going a particular way, you will only make choices that align with that one single direction, so you will only choose the single path illuminated in pink. See how powerful attachment can be, and how limiting?

Now here's one to fry your noodle before I move into the full story: You choose to accept obligations - you choose to allow someone to make you feel obligated or not. When someone is making you feel obligated, you no longer hold the power of choice, they do. They are steering your ship. Also, on some level or another, you choose to be attached to an outcome. The greatest limits are self induced.

On my last trip, I was reminded first hand of how much attachment affects my choices, and I was able to overcome this and choose again. This trip was a solo one, which I have found exhilarating in the past. But this time, something had changed, and I couldn't sleep. Not for a glaring reason, I wasn't stressed at first, I didn't have anything on my mind, there wasn't anything that was unresolved that kept me awake. I was happy and excited to be there and increasingly tired, but sleep alluded me. Those of you who know me well know I am ruled by sleep - with less sleep I have a tough time focusing, navigating, speaking coherently, and am not myself. Nights in a row without it in Europe and I had a hard time enjoying where I was. I tried so many different things - herbal remedies, sleepy teas, vigorous exercise, counting 2000 sheep, counting 2000 sheep backwards, reading, meditating,  even a pharmaceutical prescription to knock me out. Nothing touched it.

When traveling as a solo woman, you've got to be on your game: aware, focused, have a plan. Days without sleep and I wasn't meeting any of those requirements. And I was doing some big stuff too - renting a beast of a vehicle and driving on the opposite side of the road long distances to remote locations, navigating alone through the underground maze of public transportation all in a foreign place, etc.

After a week of just a few hours of quality rest, the insomnia was affecting my ability to have a good time, and I became very stressed out. It was an uncomfortable place to be. I thought that at this rate I'd need a week after I got home to catch up on sleep and relax, but worried it wouldn't be possible to take yet another week from work. In focusing on home - Maui - I couldn't think of anywhere more relaxing. And I realized, if I wanted to go home, I could. I didn't need to wait a week or keep moving forward just because my ticket dictated that. People change their flights all the time. Sure I was attached to seeing Scotland, but the state I was in surely wouldn't yield much enjoyment.

Sometimes we choose to do big things, we choose to take on huge responsibility, or big projects, and they don't always pan out. Sometimes they drain us instead of feed us, sometimes we aren't happy with our choice, and sometimes it's just not where we are supposed to be. That's okay. No matter what's invested, you can always make more money. Plans are just a course we follow until we choose another course. I realized that when I have money invested in something I feel obligated to stay.  Likewise, when I've invested a lot of time and energy in something that isn't working, I still feel obligated to stay. But time is even more valuable than money and is more finite. The present moment is one of the most valuable things we have. if you're not enjoying your time doing something, instead of looking back at where you've spent it, look to how you could enjoy it now and make another choice.

I think in the past I've been guilty of beating a dead horse going nowhere because I was so attached to where the horse was originally going. They say you either roll with life or you get run over. Rolling with it often involves being flexible. You're always free to choose something different. That's the power of choice.

As soon as I let go and chose to go home, everything became easier. Tickets were quick to reschedule and when I called to cancel the bookings for the next week, businesses were very understanding and refunded me. So although I had felt obligated to stay the plan because of all I had invested even if I was unhappy, it turned out that I lost nothing in changing my plan to go home where I could relax.
 
16 hours of flights later, when our plane descended through the storm clouds and I could see Maui out my window, I started to cry. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to live here, so incredibly happy to be coming back home here. I've taken countless journeys and come home to three states, but this time was different. Although I was often happy to return, I had never been this moved by seeing familiar landmarks.  I have been drawn to jungle places, and while flying in for the first time to explore tropical countries, I have wondered beyond the airplane window what it would be like to live there. Looking out this time, I remembered that curiosity, and felt so grateful that because of a choice I made, this beautiful tropical place is my home.

When we get outside of our attachments, we can more effectively use the power of choice. Our choices can be limitless - they don't have to be bound by our past programming, our social learning, obligations or even where we applied ourselves last. Only when you give yourself permission to let go, can you live into new possibilities. 

How about you? When you set out to make another big choice, pay attention to what comes up in the decision making process. One of the things I learned around all this is that every part of our self is with us because we choose to hold on to it. If you come up against limiting programing, or limiting beliefs consider re-writing them.  After all, the greatest limits are self induced. And, if you feel obligated to do something, definitely look into that obligation. Re-evaluate your attachment. It is ruling your choice and, as I have found this week, it doesn't need to.  Remember, you're the one steering this ship. No limits have to apply and no one else decides where you go, unless you let them.

The Pizza

Ah, traditional margarita pizza, made with buffalo mozzarella. The secret is all in the cheese. If done right, it should be squeaky between your teeth, boiling hot, floating in a homemade sauce of tomatoes you just saw in the kitchen whole - a pizza that blooms over the plate like a giant tomato garlic flower. This has become something of a tradition every time I come to Europe. I sat before a pizza like this in Italy fifteen years ago.  My, how I was different then. The pizza, oh the pizza's still the same of course.  But as I sit in front of it, I reflect on how the woman I am now is different from the girl I was on that first trip out of the country. I hadn't yet seen the world, so how could I know my place in it? I was just starting to learn who I was, I wasn't aware of my own value and therefore didn't defend it. I didn't have the confidence I do now. I had the makings of the adventuresome gutsy gal but hadn't grown into them nor explored the limits.

The last time I enjoyed a pizza like this it was my very first time outside of the states. As I sit before this pizza I reflect what I learned on that journey, and the journeys abroad since then and how they've helped me become who I am today. Many things in London are the same fifteen years later: the tube packed at rush hour, the double decker busses, the early morning bakeries with proper croissants. I return to this city changed by life, by experience, by the journeys. I turned 18 in this city. That night, I took a cab to a bar and ordered my first legal drink, 'Sex on the Green' (the Green is a large park here, and this drink is similar to 'Sex on the Beach,' but more polite). While waiting for said drink, the man next to me at the long wooden bar struck up a conversation. He was a musician, inspired, fun. This was big for me - to talk to a complete stranger, as I was still painfully shy and introverted. My sense of humor was the same but you'd never know it because we wouldn't get far enough into a conversation for me to joke with you before I retreated into my shell. I remember being struck by the creative spark in his eyes. I'd never spoke with a professional musician before and he reminded me of an artist, naturally.

Weeks later on a train through the Alps to Switzerland, my mind returned to the conversation and how inspired that man was in his chosen profession, I realized in a variety of ways, I wanted that. Where did that spark show up for me? When I was teaching someone. So I made a list of goals. Which was, I realize now, basically my 18 year old self talking to my older version in a journal. I wrote: #1 marry an artist  #2 become a teacher  #3 seek to understand and capture beauty.

I see her clearly, that young naive girl in a train, the rose bud yet to bloom. The essence is the same, but I've learned so many tips for traveling as the solo woman like: Always walk like you know where you're going. Don't count your money in public. Italy taught me don't make eye contact with men you don't know and smile. Don't arrive after dark and try to navigate. Never tell any man where you're staying, even in casual conversation. In a crowded subway,  put your back to the wall, hold hand over bag zipper. Never take a taxi after dark that doesn't say TAXI on the side. You know, the basics.

Since learning these things, London is more comfortable. And funny thing, as I know myself better, the world is also more comfortable too. I return to the same place as that girl, digging into the same incredible pizza, enjoying the same things in life, just with new eyes.  What ever became of that timid redhead? She grew up, found herself, became a teacher, met and married an amazing kind hearted creative artist, and is still traveling, still tinkering with the camera, most inspired when capturing beauty. Perhaps on the next train ride, it's time to make a list...to my next future self. I wonder what she'll be like?

The Everyday Teachers

Lately, I've been toying with the idea that everyone comes into our lives for a reason. Rather that's to help us remember, help us understand, give us guidance, meet a need, teach us, support us, tear us down so we can build back up better, or just to be a companion along the journey.  If you were the only one on the entire planet, you wouldn't have the opportunity to learn some very valuable lessons. You can teach yourself a lot of things, but other lessons, like forgiveness, can't be learned without others. Others teach us about ourselves and about life, they are a mirror that helps us become aware of our own perception. Sometimes we don't realize how we are limiting ourselves, or don't realize that our observations and impressions are skewed by our outlook until another points that out. Often others are the catalyst for our own growth.

What if, hypothetically, you were able to clearly see the connections? If you could review your life and understand the purpose your parents, your friends, your lost loved ones, your dog, your ex-partners, your business partners, even the girl who made you coffee had in your life? How powerful it would be if there was a way to know what impact each person made on our life and their reason for being in our world.  I'm finding it to be a fun game, actually, looking back and finding the unique ah-ha principle behind the characters in my story.

Some were there to encourage me to take another path. I've had bosses who were there to make the current path so difficult I had no other option than look for another way and that ended up being so much better. I've had deep loves leave so that I could question my priorities. I had people get disappointed with me so I could learn that you can't please everyone. There have been people whom I loved that judged me, who insisted on being negative so that I could choose relationships that felt better, that were uplifting instead.

I've had beautiful female friends who taught me I could be strong and elegant at the same time. I've had regular customers who taught me languages that later in life helped me make a lifelong connections. I dated someone who challenged my morals until I stood up for myself, taught me to not tolerate anyone taking me for granted. I've had people who couldn't meet their own needs drain me until I realized that if I don't take care of myself, I can't be there for anyone else.

I've had teachers who gave me life skills that made my journey more interesting, and gave me outlets to capture it in words and images. I dated a man who loved to tell me no, who drew in tight limits on things that brought me joy and he taught me how good it feels to say yes. I had a father who showed me that taking risks can help elevate life - get more juice out of it. I had an amazing man teach me the beauty of living big and I was ready for it because I had started to take risks and was willing to say yes.

Life and experience are fantastic teachers, but I find that when I look, many valuable lessons have been introduced, accented, started, and clarified by the power of others in my life. I am grateful for the ordinary, every day teachers. I find that the best connections are the symbiotic ones - where each party learns something or gains something from the other. Like: I'm here to show you being kind is more important than being right and you are here to teach me patience. Or: I am here to help support you as you reach for your dreams and you are here because I need a friend.

In life coaching, there is a special type of listening where you hear what that person is telling themselves, you hear where they are limiting themselves and you understand the piece of wisdom they need to propel them on their journey. We are often too close to our own version of this to be able to listen to ourselves, and it is only others who can point it out to us. We all are waking up at different times in different ways. The dream is that this is all there is. The reality is that you are writing your story and can make anything happen; if you want more to life, all you have to do is reach for it. And the characters in your life around you, each of them are there for a reason, rather you are aware of it or not.

What life lessons have others helped you learn? How have friends, coworkers and family impacted your life and aided you on your own journey? Who in your life has helped open your eyes or alter your perception and therefore your reality?  What if these connections were not by chance but purposely in the right place at the right time to assist your inner growth and happiness? How can you do the same for the characters in your life now?

Life lessons 2016

Every year around this time, I reflect on what I learned this year of being alive. It's an old tradition, started by one of the most inspiring women and gifted writers I have had the pleasure of knowing, one I am lucky enough to call grandmother but really should call more often. :)
This year, it seems there are fewer little lessons and more big ones. I am one lucky girl - I live in a place I absolutely love and have had the opportunity to share my love of the sea with over 600 people as I took them diving this year. Naturally, a lot of my lessons are water based as I've been dry about 20% of the year. My hope is that in sharing, some of you might learn something as well, or at least see a lot of good reminders.

It's your life - Get creative with it. Do things for you! Shortly after my last birthday, my friend Colby asked me, “What do you do for fun?” I didn’t have much when he asked me. I made excuses of being too busy. Of not having the same reliable days off.  Of being too new on island to know what there was to do. Of loving my job so much I’d rather work. But then, all I had to do was reconnect to creativity. Find inspiration. Do the work to re-connect.
Shortly thereafter, I delightedly jumped in doing creative projects in preparation for my best friend's wedding.  In the middle of this, with hot glue and peacock feathers on my fingers, I suddenly understood how much I missed this kind of thing! I loved having a creative project, I just didn’t know what to do, where to start. I was out of touch with inspiration. I realized the creativity was in me all along, I just had to build a bridge to let it come over, burst forth. No great writing comes from an unwrapped pen. In the projects that followed that summer: Peacock earrings, metal sculpture, t-shirt painting, portrait sessions for my neighbors, I found that if you cultivate creativity, then it's all possible.


When people have made up an opinion of you, nothing you can do will change that. You can tell them straight reason, rephrase a hundred times, tell them the real story, your side of the story but it will change nothing. (Unless in those rare instances that someone can be mature enough to remember every story has two sides.) Once you are a character in their story, it's their story, they are writing it, they will write you in however incorrectly they choose. Best to just let it go and laugh.

How this transpired: At work, a young man working in another watersports field saw me as a threat. I was shocked - really? Me? But to him, I could be four feet tall, sweet as pie and still be a threat. Nothing personal, he said. He hates that I make a killing at sales and therefore is threatened by me. Which I find funny because a) we are selling two entirely different things, and b) when I first started doing this it was painfully difficult for me to talk to people and ask them to pay money to dive with me. Sales had been a weakness for me, not a strong point.
Now I am just bright and shiny and guests talk to me and ask when we are going out.
I thought -how huge of a milestone for me that I have come so far at sales that I am threatening a grown (immature) man! Awesome really. 
And then, during Spring break, I blew all that out of the water. I broke the glass ceiling. I did more in sales than any employee of this company in 20 years, and happily accepted the largest bonus ever paid out by Shoreline SNUBA. I used to think I could do anything but be a salesman. And now I have learned it doesn't have to be scary or awkward or pushy. I just be myself, show my passion for what I do and invite people to come do it with me. And they do!

 

What we want for people and what they want for themselves are often two very different things. When my step mother came to visit, I wanted her to see these lovely gentle beings - sea turtles - underwater. But she's not really comfortable in the water and what she wanted out of the vacation was something completely different. It took me a while to learn this because it took another type of listening than I had been doing to hear what she really wanted.  We cannot listen to the needs and desires of others when our ego is in the way. Our ego is our wants, it is us controlling what kind of experience the other person has. This is different from truly listening to what they want - separate from us - outside of us - and then seeking it with them. When I set my ego aside, I didn't give her turtles, I gave her photos and she was delighted.

The following week, I had the opportunity to dive a little boy named Leo. When I asked what his favorite fish was he said, "honu!" So we went diving and I found him a tiny honu (turtle.) The normal routine of a dive is to see turtles, have two minutes of photos and watching and then continue the underwater tour around the reef. Part of me wanted to do this because it is what we always do. But people are individuals, dives by awesome guides cater to individual desires, not the routine. So instead, I let Leo stay very close to the turtle, following it around, spending 35 minutes of quality time with his favorite fish, keeping snorkelers in the herd from kicking him as we did so. What I would have wanted the tour to be and what he wanted it to be were very different things, but I could feel where he was happiest and kept him there.

The same day, I met Reese, age 9. (Her mom said, do you realize my daughter loves you?) She's the extremely shy twin, highland dancer, who does hours of very serious backflips in the pool. I asked if she was a gymnast but no, she just loves those. When I offered to take her out, I discovered it was her very first time in the sea. She’d never seen fish out of aquariums, never felt the ocean’s embrace. But although I found Reese her very first turtle, I also found her a soft stretch of sand to do backflips in. We did so many. In sync, away from each other manta style. She came up glowing, still shy but gave me a huge hug and thanked me.

I adore this girl, the queen of backflips, more than words can tell you and look forward to her return visit. It was epically brave of her to join me, and a big step for her, and her eyes were HUGE going in, but because I listened to what she really wanted, and gave her the experience she longed to have, she had fun. I think this is part of being a great guide. This is how I imagined myself being as a dive master when we were learning years ago - to ask the client what they want to see, and have them help me manifest drawing that to them. It crosses over to daily life as well, a whole new type of listening.

This December, I dove a celebrity. He booked online using a fake name. He purposely filled out contact details half way, giving me half his phone number, a vague address with no street, etc. His lady was dressed to the nines with an incredible painting of makeup masterly applied and she was very nervous. When people pulled out their cell phones to take photos of the tropical view - not of him - on the beach, he winced, and quickly shielded his face angrily. But underwater, as I held his lady's hand and gently guided her around just a couple feet below the surface, I looked down and saw him swimming excitedly back and forth from things that interested him, just delighted and completely in his own world. I realized, he is just a big kid. Celebrities, I have learned, just want to be treated like normal people, normal divers, just any average Joe. They are hiding from the attention, not seeking it. And even the Godfather of actors is just a big kid at heart.

I had an interesting experience with guests who live an entirely different reality than my own this year. I connected with three daughters and a fun Californian mom who were jazzed on diving and wanted to go out with me. The mother is a certified diver who has waited years to be able to dive with her daughters and finally they are the right age! But when she asked her husband who clearly controls the finances, if she could sign up, he told her no. "Absolutely not. I am not spending money on that." His tone with her irritated me as much as his words. She reacted like a kicked puppy.
The mother and the girls where so disappointed until I decided I was taking them all for free, and oh, too bad, there was not any room for the husband to come along. I don't give dives away often, but it was the principle of the thing. The mother saw me stand up to him, and authoritatively make the decision to make her dream come true. She got the point, even if he didn't.  When it is something you are passionate about, that you really want, don't let others tell you no. Find a way, make your dreams come true. Don't put your dreams in others hands by allowing them to have control over your life. The joy in that mother's eyes as she shared the world under the sea holding hands with her excited daughters was priceless.

This year I became certified to teach teachers. Which is completely different from teaching students.  I learned that it does not benefit trainees to mother them. I learned I cannot be their friend and their teacher. And I found a balance the hard way. I once had a teacher who was too strict, too critical with me and offered no positive feedback. So naturally, I decided never to do the same myself. But in doing so, I swung too far in the other direction and was over-building my trainees up, compensating for their self doubts with too much reassurance. I thought I was being compassionate when I was actually filling in the holes that didn't work for them with my own effort.  This kept me from seeing that this career wasn't working for them and having the blunt hard talk about it.

I learned to ask my trainees - why are you doing this? Why do you want to teach? If they really love it, then we can get beyond the obstacles and circumstances and work through and make it work. But giving them my love for it, and nurturing their ego is not actually effective in the long run. You can't do a career for long because your teacher loves to do it and that's contagious. Diving isn't just ANY job - it's rewarding and challenging and critical at times. You have to sincerely love it yourself in order to make it work.  Since I learned this, my trainees have stuck around longer than those I was compensating for and mothering. The best teachers are those that make you think; who give you enough information for you to have the ah-ha moment on your own, not those who give you all the answers thereby taking away the challenge of mastering a new concept.

I learned basic Hawaiian pronunciation, and two beautiful songs in Hawaiian about love and gratitude. I will continue to build upon this next year.

Christian Heeb taught me that the best photographers can do quality work outside of the studio, outside of the controlled environment. They show up, evaluate, and use what they can to their advantage to capture the moment and accent the most interesting part of the scene. Usually this involves changing perspective by climbing on a fence, car, tree trunk, chair, rock, etc. :) Christian taught me it's not always about having a plan, it's about making the most of what is there. And when you see a photograph that moves you, consider part of the magic in the shot is actually the perspective of the magician who took it.

I learned that sea monkeys (remember those mail order pets from when you were a kid?) are actually brine shrimp.

I learned that a seahorse is a romantic soul and mates for life. Every single morning, the two seahorses change color to match shining silver frequency and take a leisurely swim together, holding tails like a couple holding hands.

I have come to terms with just how sensitive my body is. Some huge scary health things this year made me re-think what I want out of life. I am so much happier when I am in balance. And that balance is actually a delicate thing. You have to tend your body like a garden. After a couple rough winters, it takes a time for things to come back. I think we often don't appreciate our body for all it is capable of, we ignore it unless it becomes sore or sick. We don't think about how strong we are, how healthy we are and rarely take time to thank the vessel we dwell in, we experience life through for all it does for us. I'm getting better about this.

Life is precious. Allow yourself more of the things you love. Live fully, live deeply, truly interact with life. Don't just listen to the music, if it makes you happy, get up and dance. If someone has inspired you, been a great teacher, improved your journey, changed your life for the better, reach out and let them know. Appreciation is never wasted, trust me. Go beyond words, let your actions show those you love how you feel.

I've learned that when you love someone, whatever time you have together is time enough.

This year, I've spent quality time with old friends. I have so many I treasure and so much to thank them for, but I will keep it within this year or their piece will be pages longer. Thank you Heidi for your beautiful heart, the magical yoga retreat, the quality brainstorming sessions and for making me a better teacher by teaching me about ego. Thank you JC for the REI talk, for always being willing to share what I need to get when I need to get it, for making time to meet up in odd places and eras, for your friendship and your wisdom. Thank you O for being up for crazy adventures, for still making noises when we kiss, for holding my hair back, holding my hand during The Goonies and encouraging my heart to continue to seek what feeds it.
 
This year, by truly getting out and experiencing life, I've also met some new friends - I shook hands with a seahorse - they hold on tight. I held a dangerous spiny sea urchin, they crawl and tickle. I got high-fin from a turtle. I met a whale face to face. I held eye contact with a giant barracuda and tried to see him as just another fish, and not focus on his teeth. I raced dolphins in a mermaid tail. I rolled around on the surface with an endangered monk seal who seemed delighted that I also knew not to take myself too seriously.

This year I have felt more at home in my own skin, more in my own element in the ocean. Perhaps this is what growing up is like. It's not about being more serious and restrained, it's about knowing yourself better. And when you really get that, get deep down into the heart of that notion and live there, you find that in knowing yourself better, you really know others better. Because you're not projecting yourself onto them. This year, I'm better with letting others be themselves and letting me be me and really reveling in the magic of that. The more comfortable I am, the more comfortable everything else is too. If you haven't been there, it's a difficult notion to explain. I have said in years past that when you are at home within yourself, you are at home in the world, anywhere. It's like that, but on a more intimate scale. You decide when you grow up and you determine what that means. (Remember, it's your story that you are writing after all!) For me, I'm 33 years young, and so grateful to be me, here, now.    

Photo Courtesy of Christian Heeb

A Mermaid in the Flow

I’ve been fascinated by mermaids since I was a little girl. I think it's the romanticism, the mystique, the siren song, the graceful beauty of the female form combined with the sea that appeals to me: woman and nature as one. It’s funny, the things that capture our imagination. Many little girls have a love affair with horses, and for a few girls in my life, they’ve taken that love into adulthood and are trainers, breeders, and competitive professionals with their horses. Somehow, it seems a rather rare thing that the ideas we love as children still fascinate us as adults. Remember what you wanted to be when you grew up vs. who you became today? The versions of ourselves reshape and grow and new fascinations are introduced. In high school, when the assignment was to paint a self portrait as a famous painting, I painted my face on a J.W. Waterhouse mermaid. Half my life later, mermaids are still around: on the bottom of my paddle board, as stickers on all of my water bottles, as Halloween costumes, as doodles on the electric bill while I’m on hold with the power company...

But this year, I’ve taken things farther. I started my own mermaid t-shirt company, which makes little girl sizes as well as grown girl sizes, obviously. I’m also wearing my own art as a mermaid tattoo on my back - she’s got her head and arms back - heart up and open, and is coupled with the word ’Embrace.’

All this reminds me of the Rumi quote, “May the beauty of what you love be in all that you do.” As a dive instructor, I breathe underwater every day. Just this month, however, I’ve become so comfortable in the water that I don’t have to think about breathing or moving, or staying above the coral, it just happens naturally and I truly feel I’m in my own element. I’m at home in the water, and I’ve got a three foot long cascade of reddish hair. Hmmm, perhaps I really have grown into my childhood fascination: a human mermaid.

My husband Tim saw this resemblance and gifted me a turquoise mermaid tail for Christmas. It’s like a tight sock around my legs with a monofin in the base. Impossible to walk in, difficult to tread water in, but capable of being faster and more efficient than I’ve ever been in the water. It took a lot of practice to learn to swim in a mermaid tail. I did research, watched videos, and discovered the most efficient swim stroke for a monofin is called ‘dolphin’ and works by using your body in a wave motion.

In the pool, my dolphin stroke was herky jerky at first. I would think about it too much, plan starting the wave, try to make my body dip and move in a flowing motion. This was anything but flowing in the beginning. I was more in my head than my body - trying to analyze, to control. Which, I realized is pretty funny considering Tim and I aspire to be true to our business name - Living In The Flow. Nothing about that is in your head, choreographed, planned, controlled. So I laughed at myself and tried a different approach. I held on to the side of the pool, closed my eyes and cleared my mind of everything, becoming a blank slate, and open page. Then I took three deep breaths and swam without thinking about swimming. My body inherently knew what to do and how to move and in a few fluid dolphin strokes I was quickly to the other side of the pool, astounded at what my body was capable of! When I didn’t try to control the stroke, when I just let go and trusted my own body’s intuition, I was efficient, fast and in the flow. How different my life would be if I applied this concept to everything! If I just let go of judgment, of attachment to how things should go or look, let go of trying to push for things to happen, or controlling the way in which what I want comes to me. If I could let go of my ego and be a blank slate, an open mind and just trust and move forward, would things be more fluid and easy like dolphin stroke when I get out of my head, out of my own way?  

Next, I took this to the open ocean. The turtles reacted differently to me in the tail than they did when I was in two fins. This was amusing, awe inspiring and fantastic for taking pictures of them. They let me hang out next to them respectfully, as they curiously eyed me up and down. I was suddenly a fish, part of their world.

The greatest challenge of being in the ocean and deeper water was being able to tread water to keep my head above the surface. Without a wetsuit layer, I’m not as buoyant, and things like removing and replacing my mask while still breathing were nearly impossible with my head bobbing under. Despite that, I felt I was ready for more, for another big step.

Those who know me well know that I’m much more into having experiences rather than things. And this year for my birthday, I wanted to swim with the wild dolphins again, this time as a mermaid.

We traveled to the Big Island, where we met up with one of the most expert boat captains I’ve ever met (and that’s saying something, I work as a dive professional, I’ve rolled off a lot of boats in my day) - Erika is a young woman rocking a traditionally male occupation. She runs tours with Dolphin Discoveries, an educated, ocean minded group that teaches people to swim with dolphins in the most respectful manner possible.

We found the pod of Hawaiian spinner dolphins in one of their favorite bays, doing laps with the swimmers who are practicing for the Iron Man tournament. After a thorough briefing, Erika announced that “the pool was open” and Tim and I dove in to the ocean. Well, he dove in. My legs were bound so I sorta hopped off the boat. I cleared my mind, let go of control and swam towards the pod. Soon, several families of dolphins surrounded us. Pregnant females, silly babies, males with scars from deep sea encounters. They didn’t react the way the turtles had, and noticed me more for my playful behavior and singing in my snorkel rather than resembling a fish. This went against my expectation, but Erika knew exactly why this was. Dolphins use sonar like whales, she explained. Basically, they see your body, your bones, your heart beating. (Talk about a superpower!) They could easily tell the girl playing with them had two legs bound together and was not indeed half fish. But it was still a joyous, incredible interaction. I could tell when they were curious because as they passed me they would just stop swimming. All momentum would pause and they’d wait to see what I would do next. One young dolphin turned upside down and swam in line with his family - like a child walking down the sidewalk between his parents on his hands instead of his feet. The water was full of whistles and clicks as they conversed around us.

After months of practice, I could clear my mind and just be in the present moment, not thinking about swimming or breathing or equalizing or treading water. I had no other thoughts except for what I was seeing and experiencing at that very moment. I was unaware of time, of anything but the now and I had fully let go. I was in the flow, and the most comfortable I’ve ever been in the ocean. And fast! My husband, the water man, who has always been able to out-swim me, had trouble keeping up to take photos. I am so grateful that he did, as only images can share with you how incredible the experience was that day. And the little girl in me can’t stop looking at the woman playing big, having an incredible experience she designed herself, living on a level she’s now comfortable with, in her element, as a mermaid. The child in me is delighted by this image - seeing the woman she’s grown into as a physical embodiment of her fascination: a mermaid in the flow.

A Haole Learns to Sing

As many of you know, I am learning Native Hawaiian chants and songs, also called olis. Before the written word, this was how information was passed from generation to generation in Hawaii. This was how cultural memory was preserved. Nowadays, we have our stories, our heroes, our morals in books, we have our cherished memories in photos, but back then, they had the same in song. First, I learned Oli Aloha, and lately I have been sitting on the cliffs overlooking the sea singing Oli Mahalo, a song of gratitude. For friendship, for family, for food, for love and for all our ancestors and teachers around us, both seen and unseen. A generous Hawaiian man, whom I affectionately have nicknamed Tatts because of his prominent traditional Hawaiian tattoos, is kindly sharing his knowledge with me and teaching me the olis. During the slow days before summer kicks off the tourist season on Maui, we have brief windows of time in which I may ask questions and learn, these are hours that I treasure.  I am just a baby speaker, still working on pronunciation and basics, and this last time we met, I wanted to sing my gratitude out and have Tatts, with his ear for how Hawaiian should really sound, tell me if I was essentially saying, 'I yam greetfool' or 'I am grateful.' This is incredibly helpful because he has everything that online learning cannot give me, which, believe me, is volumes.

After a couple olis and some helpful tips, we started talking about the language, the pronunciation, and why I want to learn it. To me, it's basic: I live in Hawaii, I should speak Hawaiian. It is part of the place I love. That is my attitude, but I have seen the opposite all too often - it was something that bothered me right away on my very first journey abroad. I was surrounded by people who were visiting a country completely unique to their own and yet expected -in some cases, demanded- that the residents there spoke not their native language but English to them, served them nothing traditional but only foods they recognized from back home. These travelers kept closed minds and dismissed the culture that existed in this beautiful country as though it was less than what America had to offer. By refusing to adapt, refusing to try, expecting to be catered to, they were blatantly disrespecting the locals. The attitude struck me as, "I don't want to have anything to do with your existence, I want to instead replace it with my own. Mine is better." And I couldn't stand it. That's why I broke free of the American group and traveled solo when I was 18. Wherever I went, I learned atleast enough local language and customs to be polite, to respect the locals and their country.  Over time, this became a big part of why I travel - to experience, understand and honor what is different. 

As I would imagine any conquered country would have, there is a local term in Hawaii for people who are outsiders, who look, well, just like me. The word is 'haole' and is commonly used in a derogatory manner. I recently looked it up to try to understand it better. Haole translates to "no breath" or literally having "no spirit, no life within." As far as put downs for outsiders, that is pretty strong. So how does one as white as me avoid being a haole? By showing up with respect, and with spirit, of course.

So I asked Tatts, "As I learn more, and I go out into Hawaii and speak Hawaiian to native Hawaiians, do you think I will be met with resistance? You know I do this to show them respect, but do you think it will be received in the wrong way?"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking and said, "Yes, you will run into attitudes of opposition. People may hate you for it or be angry with you for speaking their language to them. But what you have to realize is that they are not angry with you. They are upset because you know more Hawaiian than they do."

It's true, I have found it difficult to find people to practice speaking with because not many people in Hawaii (even locals) speak Hawaiian.

"Angry at themselves for not having the same passion to learn it like I do?" I asked. "Ah, you mean transferred emotion."

"Yes. But don't worry about it. When you meet them, you'll know, just turn around and walk away. Don't let it get to you. It has nothing to do with you."

I smiled. "That's excellent advice. Thanks. See what I really don't want to do is speak Hawaiian like the Timeshare sales ladies."

Tatts cocked his head sideways in a questioning glance.

"You know, Stiletto heels, hairspray, walking through the property with guests selling the beach view timeshare units at our hotel.  When I pass them, I am normally soaking wet. I'm hauling several tanks in the dive cart, and I am blissfully happy from an amazing day of diving where I introduced children to their first sea turtle. And when I smile with my whole body and greet them, they give me a tight little grin and say in a singsong voice, 'A-Lo-Ha!' bobbing their head with each syllable with hair that is frozen in time and does not move."

I pass these women daily and find such humor in the strong contrast between themselves and I. They smell like Vanilla, I smell like the sea. They wear makeup and copious amounts of hairspray and I wear sunscreen and a smile. They wear Stilettos on a beach, the absurdity of that makes me smile in secret. I wear practical, comfortable shoes that can get wet, that have sufficient traction to not slip when I am towing a couple hundred pounds uphill. My love for the sea is so strong it penetrates my pores, sinks and stays in my bones, sings out from my heart. I have a want to share and protect this magical body of water and the creatures within. Their relationship to the same spit of sand, the same turquoise body is monetary gain.  Mind you, I am aware of how I write of the Timeshare sales ladies. Their reality and choices are in distinct contrast to mine, but there's nothing wrong with that. I just find humor in how strikingly different we are on the outside. I don't know them on the inside, but from the reflection I can see, if I had to guess who is happier it would be an easy guess.

"The reason I don't want to sound like the Timeshare sales ladies when I speak Hawaiian," I told Tatts, "Is that it seems insincere, off somehow, like it doesn't belong to them. It's..."

"Hollow." Tatts said, nodding. "I understand. They say it, but do they live it?"

"Mmm." Chills ran down my arms. "Like walking your talk." I said.

"Exactly."

I reflected on this for a moment.  There's a reason why, on our island we see the bumper sticker everywhere saying, "PRACTICE ALOHA."  See, to the Hawaiians, Aloha means many things: hello and goodbye, sure, but also love, presence, peace. It is more than a word, it is a philosophy, a fundamental code of ethics, it is a way of life. I think this early teaching illustrates it best: "Aloha is being a part of all, and all being a part of me. I respect all that is as part of the Creator and part of me. I will not willfully harm anyone or anything. When food is needed I will take only my need and explain why it is being taken. The earth, the sky, the sea are mine to care for, to cherish and to protect." ...Uh, yeah, a bit more than just hello.

I always come back to my favorite translation. If you take the root words one by one, Aloha means "the joyful sharing of life in the present."

"Don't worry." Tatts told me, "You won't sound condescending, Sara. That's not possible. Because the difference is you are learning, yes, but you already live it. It is who you are. When you live it, you honor it, and it becomes your truth."

I smiled shyly, humbled by his compliment, remembering how weeks ago, this same man looked at me and shook his head incredulously as I was carrying gear up from the beach and passed him smiling. He looked at the employee next to him and said, "She is always smiling and she means it. Hers is the only genuine smile on this entire beach." It's true. I can't help but smile, I am having fun, I love being here, I love what I do, and I love to share that. In radiating my joy out to every stranger and friend I pass, in just showing up the way that is normal for me, I suppose Tatts is right, I am living Aloha.*

So, my reflection to you is:  What is your life philosophy? How do you think people should treat one another? What is your truth? You speak it all the time, but are you honoring it by living it? There's no better time than now to begin. 



*A special Mahalo nui loa to Tatts. It means so much to me that you are sharing the history, the stories, the songs, the language of your land because I have such a strong wish to learn.  And because I love living in Hawaii so much and sincerely wish to respect this place, to honor it. Your time and your teachings are incredibly valuable. Thank you.

Three Deep Breaths Can Change Your Life

Photo credit mindbodycoach.com

One fabulous thing tool that yoga has given me over the years is breathing deeply. Life throws us some pretty crazy situations sometimes and I find it immensely helpful to pause and take three deep breaths before I do anything in response. In the time it takes to take three deep breaths, you end up responding rather than reacting.

Take frog pose for example. Holding that hip opener pose for four minutes certainly isn’t easy! During the first minute, it’s doable. After the second minute, my muscles and mind are screaming and I think - I can’t do this, I have to move, I have to get out of this - but then I take three deep breaths and it turns out it’s not pain, its just big sensation and I can breathe through it. The last minute goes so much quicker.

When we move immediately to a sensation or situation, we are reacting. It’s a base action, often not something we think through. Reactions are commonly defensive and lead to confrontation. No matter what we want to do in life, we often do it better if we are relaxed. Deep, conscious breathing relaxes you, releases tension and brings you in control of your concentration, giving you an inner calm from which to respond to the situation. The space it takes to take three deep breaths is the pause in which mindfulness is cultivated. It creates the difference between responding and reacting. Try this! The next time someone cuts in front of you in traffic, or your child accidentally ruins something or you are faced with a difficult situation, before you do anything, take three deep breaths.

After so many yoga classes of pranyama and breathing exercises, I relate deep breathing to being in the present moment. Deep breathing is something you have to be aware to do, as it is often not our habitual style. It brings you back into your body, back into the present moment. Breathing is the link between the mind and the body and both need oxygen to survive. We usually do things with our body while our mind is thinking about something else, and go for days (weeks?) without unifying the two. This is why yoga is so important. Being in your body in the pose. Being in your body while living your life makes it such a more conscious, awake experience. Seems to me, we would all be much happier if our bodies and our minds were in the same place at the same time. (I know, I know, easier said than done, but all it takes is practice.)

Resetting your breathing is also one of the easiest things you can do for yourself. Sounds silly, but taking time to take three deep breaths can center you. Bringing in enough oxygen is key. Every cell in your body needs oxygen to be chemically balanced. We often focus on our basic needs like food and water, but forget that oxygen actually comes before those two. Think about it: you can go for days without food or water but only minutes without oxygen. In fact, many of the vital ingredients we need to sustain ourselves come not food, but from the air we breathe.

Habitually, as a modern population, we have slipped into shallow breathing, slouched posture, external focus. In doing so, we are doing our body a disservice. We become so involved in our daily duties and situations that we forget to breathe. Stress also restricts our breathing. And yet, if we take the time to breathe deeply, we become more calm and the stressors are almost immediately reduced. With shallow breathing, our bodies become oxygen starved, we become tired, have a slow build up of toxins, have increased anxiety and decreased immunity as a result. Recent studies show that those who breathe the shallowest tire and become irritated more easy. It makes perfect sense to be more on edge if you aren’t getting enough of a vital ingredient needed for brain function, heart function, nervous system balance, regeneration of cells, etc.

Fun fact: The animals that breathe the slowest and deepest live longer. For example, one of the longest living creatures, the tortoise, takes 4 breaths per minute and lives nearly 150 years. The house mouse takes 95 to 160 breaths per minute and lives on average a year and a half. Just for a moment, picture the stress levels of a tortoise and a house mouse. More erratic, stressed movement and quick shallow breaths are not going to make us live longer.

In the space of three deep breaths, amazing things can be accomplished. I see this in my divers all the time. When we are presented with a stressor, our body’s natural response is to tense up, to hold half of our lung full of used/dead air and then breathe on top of that. In this way, we are only allowing in half as much oxygen that we need, and our rate of breathing becomes more rapid as our brain panics and tries to get more air. This quick shallow breathing leads to hyperventilation. If I can catch it in my diver’s habits before it becomes hyperventilation, I tell them, “Mind over matter. Make yourself do huge exhales. Breathe in 1,2,3. Breathe out 1,2,3,4.” Big exhales dispel the used air and carbon dioxide and bring in what your body needs to be calm. When you focus on the exhalation, your inhalation tends to come naturally. And it truly is mind over matter. People forget you can make your body relax, you can make your body tense. Like with scuba, your body knows it can’t breathe underwater, so immediately we tense up and hold our breath, or half of it. But with regulators, it is possible. We can breathe underwater! We just have to relax and trust the equipment. If you are going to have the glorious experience of diving, you have to convince your mind it is possible. Don’t let the conditioned responses stop you from things that were once thought impossible. Mind over matter. Know you can do it, breathe deep and begin.

Photo credit: Georgia Tech University

So rather this breath work helps you respond rather than react, makes you healthier and more energetic, links your mind and body in the present moment, makes you live a longer happier life, or allows you to do things you thought were once impossible; it really is that simple, that easy: Three deep breaths can change your life.

Oli Aloha: How Finding Dolphins Is Like Finding True Love

 

 

When a friend of mine gave me recommendations for the Big Island of Hawaii, she said, “Go in the ocean, the ocean is magical!” She was right. That was the best part about our recent visit to the Big Island. I may not connect to the miles and miles of barren lava but I do connect to the sea.

There are two main options of swimming with the dolphins in Hawaii: 1) A Wild Encounter: you can swim with wild ones, taking your chances if you will see any, how many you will see, if they decide to come close, if they decide to interact with you at all. Or, 2) A Captive Interaction: you can swim with dolphins in captivity, where a company puts you in a life vest, and you wade into a pool and the dolphins will come up and give you a kiss if you give them a treat. You get guaranteed time with them and good photos.



The whole thing reminds me of dating. You can take your chances with all the fish in the sea, or you can pay a beauty to give you a kiss. The later choice has the guarantee, just like a kissing booth at a fair, but she kisses you not because she likes you. Not because she thinks you are special, not because you two have a good connection, but because you have something she wants.



I would much rather support companies who do not cage these lovely beings. I would rather take my chances that they find me interesting enough to come close and play. I personally find option 2 heartbreaking.

But I am also not the type who wants to wear a life jacket wading into a ten foot pool. I live and breathe the sea, as these dolphins do. So I wore weights to help me dive deeper with them, the opposite of the life jacket concept. I want the wild experience, to interact deeper. But that’s just who I am. I understand that others want the guarantee, oddly enough at the painful, stifling cost to the incredible being they are paying to see.

All that being said, we lucked out. Tim and I got exactly what we wanted on our dolphin swim: a small boat with an intimate crew of people of like-minds, and dolphins, lots and lots of them. Three different species: bottlenose, spotted and spinner dolphins!

The first dolphins we encountered were bottlenose. A family of nine or ten. They came right up to the boat to check us out and kept pushing at the bow, challenging the boat to go faster, to race. I was thrilled that we had found them after just a few minutes of searching.

“We won’t swim with these dolphins.” Our captain Erika informed us. “It's just…how to put this…they are very forward. They have been known to play with people, to touch and nibble. They might take you by the arm or hand and guide you down to show you something, or ask you to play deeper.”

“So it’s not safe?” The Canadian woman next to me asked.

“It’s not that.” Erika said. “It’s really rare that could happen, and they wouldn’t wish you harm in any way, they just might not understand your boundaries. The spinner dolphins we are looking for tend to be more timid.”

As we accelerated, the dolphins quickly created a V formation behind us surfing the wave created by our boat's hull. They were thrilled! We noticed two babies swimming very close to their mothers.

Between waves rolling through from the swell, Erika gave us a thorough briefing on how to interact. “There will be small windows to jump in and see the dolphins today.” She explained. “When I say standby, you want to get your gear on and get ready and then as soon as I say ’the pool is open’ jump in quickly.”

Erika explained what not to do during our wild dolphin swim. Some things I knew, like obviously, don’t touch them. Other things were more key to dolphin behavior and were new to me like don’t swim with your arms, and keep your fins underwater so there is no surface slapping. When dolphins want to be left alone, they signal each other by slapping their tails on the water. So splashing about trying to get closer to the dolphins is counter productive.

In the wild, it is up to the dolphins if they want to swim with you. They choose if they want to hang out or leave and they're a lot faster than we are. I had put a lot of thought into how to get the dolphins who swam by to stop and play. Should I bring them gifts or toys? Should I dress in loud colors to be more interesting? Man, it's the dating game all over again. First impressions. You want to show up authentically, so they get to know and like you for who you are, right? Loads of makeup flashy clothing and gifts aren't necessarily as valuable as being yourself on a first date. But what would set me apart? How does one find a dolphin, gain its interest and make friends?

The liability waiver had also made me initial that I would not dive down in the water with the dolphins. As this was my exact intent, I clarified with Erika, explaining Tim and I were dive instructors, what our background in the ocean was and explaining we would be smart and safe about it, if allowed to duck under. She understood we would be safe but explained she didn’t trust other boats to be. Overhead hazards were the reasoning behind the waiver‘s rule on diving, not necessarily because it would scare or offend the dolphins. So I agreed to only dive under if there were no other boats in the vicinity.



 

After 20 minutes of going up and down the coast we hadn’t found any spinner dolphins as the waves of the swell lifted and lowered the boat and crashed against the shore. We turned around and headed back and Erika radioed the other Dolphin Discovery boat. She translated the garbled man’s voice back to us.

“Okay guys, so the bottlenose family seems to have slowed down and are more calm now. Because we have not found our spinners yet, we are going to let you swim with these dolphins if you want to.”

There was a long pause. I saw both of the other couples look at each other. In the silence that followed, I grabbed my mask. “Okay.” I looked up at Erika. “I’d love to go in.”

“Awesome.” She brightened and turned the boat around to parallel the dorsal fins in the water as I stepped into my fins.

“Okay Sara, the pool is open.” I dove in but didn‘t see anything but the bottom of our boat. Erika pointed to the direction she last saw them and I started swimming, careful not to use my arms and keep my fins under the water. I got farther and farther from the boat. I was in 200 feet of water and all around me was startling blue. I didn’t see any dolphins, the only thing I could see beneath me were jelly fish. I started to examine my choice, remembering Erika’s first comments about wild bottlenose dolphins, feeling a tightening in my chest.

I’ve never met dolphins underwater, so I had no idea how they would react to me and here I was, heading out alone to try to swim with the most aggressive, or forward type. Awesome.

I laughed at myself and took three deep breaths. I don’t know much about dolphins, but I do know they are incredibly intelligent, that they are playful, that they can feel where you are at emotionally, and they respond to playful energy. Kind of how sharks can smell fear - you exude those pheromones in the water and they pick up on your emotions. Going out alone with any kind of hesitation or fear is really not where I wanted to be. I had to change the place I was at internally if I wanted to get to where I wanted externally. Somehow I had to open my heart.

So I did the first thing that came to mind. I started singing. Over the last few weeks a generous Hawaiian has been teaching me the words to Oli Aloha, a song I adore because the the core of it is love. The gist of the song is this: there is someone you love who you have been longing to see and suddenly they are in front of you and you are overwhelmed with love.  Oli Aloha is in Hawaiian, and a great challenge for me, but I'm drawn to it and that’s the first song I had.  Those who have been snorkeling with children know that you can hear someone talk in a snorkel, and you sure can hear them sing. It changed my energy immediately and although there were still jellyfish, others had hopped off the boat now and were heading my way behind me, and the dolphins were heading my way in front of me. I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t afraid, just excited.

 

 

It’s an incredible rush, having dolphins head straight for you, part and move around you. They are so surreal and swim differently than any other fish I’ve been close to - their tail moves up and down rather than side to side and they have such control in the water - seeming to hover when they slow to check you out. I didn’t know which direction to look, they were on all sides and below me. There was no wild, unpredictable, aggressive energy that might drag someone down. Looking in their eyes as they slowed, there was only love, a smiling rush of affection, something familiar which I recognized to be the exact essence of Oli Aloha.

My videos of them are hilarious, even to me. You see ten dolphins rush past me and as each one comes near, I say “hello friend!” and “hey there.” I’m like a kid greeting friends on the street walking past me, minus the wild waving (thrilled to see them but don‘t want to scare them off). It’s impossible for me not to talk to them when they are feet from me whistling, for they seem so interactive and understanding.

 

 

 

The highlight was when I did dive down. No one in the group had done so yet. I dove and mimicked the dolphin’s swim. I know how silly that looks. I’ve been told and laughed at myself but it was all in good play. A dolphin approached and slowed down, then dove down with me and spun. I had no awareness of how deep I went or what my form looked like. I was just so overwhelmingly honored and happy that one had stopped when he saw me and turned around, leaving his family to come play with me.



Tim and I are already talking about going again; and what to do next time now that we have discovered what works best, how to be noticed, how to be interesting enough to check out. And really, it is just as I thought. I’m different. There is no way I would pay to support the captivity of something so intelligent and gloriously happy. I couldn’t support a company that separates such a being of love from its family in the name of profit. But to be dropped off in the open sea in the line of a flow of hundreds of wild content dolphins, is absolutely priceless. So yeah, I’m different. I get that I’m not like the other tourists floating out there. When it comes to dolphins and love, that’s a good thing. So I’m the one who sings in a different language, sings out loud to the ocean, who doesn’t wear the life jacket, but wears the weights in 200 feet of open ocean. In this case, it worked. How do you get a dolphin to stop and play with you? How has anyone found love? Just be yourself.

 





 

The Magician's Perspective - Behind the Scenes with Christian Heeb

 

I am still scrubbing mud out from beneath my nails from this weekend. Who knew part of the job description for Photographer’s Model would include barefoot hiking -scaling the slippery ledge to climb up to the next waterfall, climbing roots and mudslide forest walls to the higher pools above?  But hey, it’s not all studio work with controllable lighting and backdrops here in Maui. Jungle photography presents some immense challenges, many of them muddy.

 

I had been invited by world renowned photographer Christian Heeb and his lovely wife and assistant Regula months ago to participate in photos for an upcoming Hawaii travel guidebook.
Of course, as a photographer, I was thrilled, and asked a local girl to join us, whom we immediately referred to as “The Hawaiian Beauty” for obvious reasons. In my photos, she is a pretty Hawaiian girl. In Christian's photos, she embodies the essence of why for centuries, sailors didn't want to leave the islands. That is the work of a master.



Christian is a unique person. When we met for the first time at the Banyan tree in Lahaina, I texted the Hawaiian Beauty descriptions so she would know how to find us: “Look for the thin man wearing a little hat with a huge lens or two.” It didn’t take her long to find us, but it did take her several hours to get used to his character. Christian is a Swiss German. In my travels, I have crossed paths with many and it took me ages to understand them. Many Swiss Germans I have met possess a similar dry humor and quick wit. I took everything they said seriously for far too long and missed out on many good giggles this way. (Crystal Coyle, you know the type) In short, the man is hilarious, but says it all with a deceivingly straight face. This made for a very entertaining weekend.

 

It's amazing to watch Christian work. He is creating in the moment, using wind, using light patches, using barking dogs - whatever variables are present to accent the most interesting part of the scene. He jumps fences, stands on tree trunks, lays on his belly to get the right angle.

 

Regula is there beside him, a kind and gentle presence, giving valuable second opinions.  She can see what he is trying to capture and helps guide the light to accent his subject. Regula is the magician's assistant, a rare one who can see the world the way he does and reflect its magic back to the rest of us in his photos.

Setting up the scene, reflecting the light...to get this shot below:

 

 

 

As we rinsed off mud from our hike, he turned this scene....

 

...into this one.

 

 

We traveled all around Maui, chasing the light. Running down paths to catch the sunset, dodging tourists on the beach for a clear shot, tromping through high grass to ancient stands of eucalyptus trees. This grand adventure gave me a good idea what it would have been like if I had chosen this profession. As rewarding as it is being able to present him with my favorite trees, cliffs, waves and bays and critters, it is invigorating and fatiguing at the same time.  And if he asked, I'd be thrilled to do it all again tomorrow.

At one point, along the road to Hana, as we were yet again chasing the light, Christian jumped in the car and handed me his camera in the back seat. It was big and heavy and made me hold my breath in excitement as I set it in my lap. See, as other budding photographers out there may be able to relate, I am one of those girls with lens envy. I see a massive, black, protruding, serious, foot-long lens and it gives me yearnings. I want one too. Looking at Christian's camera, I felt as though the magician had just passed me his wand and said casually, “here, hold this.“ as though he didn’t realize the power it holds.

And then I came to the understanding that just having a camera and a lens like this wouldn’t mean I could take awesome photographs. The magic in Christian’s photos isn’t hiding in his camera, it isn’t in the moment, it’s in him. In how he sees the world, how he gathers the light, the angles he chooses. Perhaps the difference between average people and magicians is that magicians see the magic around us and show it to others. The magic is not a spell, it's something that is always all around us, swirling with possibility if we only had the eyes to see it. In my humble opinion, that’s what a brilliant artist does: they take something ordinary and turn it into something spectacular using what tools they have externally, what the world presents them in the given moment, but most importantly, what lies within them. For example, it is not the writer’s pen that makes the story amazing. An artist could hand me their paint brush, but that doesn’t mean I could recreate a painting like theirs that stirs me within, lifts me up, makes me catch my breath. That remarkable magic comes from within the artist and is reflected in their story, their artwork, or in this case, their photographs. For me, this week has been time spent with a true master, and the magician’s assistant, taking them to places I think are special and watching them create something extraordinary. CH, thank you, it has been an honor.