Stop and Smell the Plumeria

Where is the balance between making plans and being spontaneous?  I'm certain there must be some foundation of plans laid, but as I have discovered, it is also important to follow the moment to discover unanticipated bonuses.  The beauty of travel is not just in checking off the landmark destinations.  Seen that.  Seen that.  Seen that. The trick is to keep yourself open to the unique experiences which can happen along the way as a gift from the stars.

A cruise is a delightful way to travel.  I'm convinced it is one of the best travel values around.  On its short list of frustrations, however, lies the pressure of seeing a port-of-call within a narrowly defined margin of time.  What if that small window of opportunity is affected by inclimate weather, or high winds, or choppy seas?  There will always be variables.  How one handles those variables is the test of a true world traveler.

I'm learning to broaden my scope, dismiss disappointment sooner and replace it with the promise of the unplanned.  Some of my best experiences have been when itineraries were tossed and spontaneity prevailed.

I won't pretend that I have always possessed this skill.  After one too many tsunami blows, I cracked.  How many times can one turn the other cheek?  How dare this intangible succeed in ruining my vacation which I had so carefully planned!  One can only lick one's wounds and drown one's sorrows in cheeseburgers and milkshakes so long.  Then it is time to shift one's thinking, learn a lesson or two, and press forward.

And I did.  And I had a wonderful time!

I did not plan to ride a scooter along the Kona coast on the Big Island of Hawaii.  And yet I did!

I even brought along snorkel gear so I could stop at the beaches along the way.

Brian and I even stumbled upon our best meal of the trip at the suggestion of the scooter rental guy:  The Fish Hopper in Kona.  The pictures are blurry, but you get the idea...

I did not plan on kayaking a jungle river.  And yet I did!

(I look like such a grandma, huh?)

I didn't plan to hike to a waterfall.  But I did that too.

And I didn't plan on swimming under a Hawaiian waterfall, but the stars aligned and I was able to cross this one off my bucket list.  Something I have always wanted to do...

It may not always come naturally, but I'm leaving myself open to the possibilties that present themselves unexpectedly.  Maybe our "bucket lists" should include a few "yet to be defined" features.  Maybe fate's guiding hand will be our most interesting travel guide.  Will we be willing to let outside forces illuminate our paths and direct our footsteps?  I hope so.  It can sure turn out to be a lot of fun.

Feeling the Effects

I hesitate to complain.  I could give a long laundry list of inconveniences caused by Hawaii coming to a screeching halt for an uninvited guest, "The Tsunami" that never bothered to come.  I suppose I could tell you all about the 4 hour wait in the longest line of my life, lugging my luggage with me, trying to embark a cruise ship that had had to wait off shore until the all-clear notice to come into a port which was thankfully undamaged.  Perhaps I could mention the resulting unpredictable weather that brought with it rough seas, low water levels for the beaches and rivers, cancelled shore excursions, high winds, and seasickness.  But I won't.

On the other hand, I choose to share the amazing experiences I had.  Most of these happened as a result of the aforementioned setbacks.

Our first morning on the cruise found us in port on the beautiful island of Maui.  My early-riser husband brought back word from the upper deck that the weather was beautiful.  Brian loves to watch the ship come into port.  We tease him that the captain and crew couldn't do their job without Brian close by to supervise.  He also reported spotting a pod of whales nearby; another of his favorite activities aboard a ship. Ahhh.  I lay back in my bed, thankful that finally our trip seemed to be on track as I had anticipated.

It was Sunday morning and our plan was to rent a car and try to find a nearby church.  I had found a list online of the different Maui wards with their meeting times.  Being freshly showered and breakfasted, I was feeling much recovered from the stress of the previous day, looking forward to a lovely day in the Maui sunshine.  We stepped off the boat and the welcoming committee was a torrential downpour.  Inadequately prepared for this, it took perhaps 30 seconds before I resembled a drowned rat.  Not to mention being soaked to the skin, I was soon freezing. 

Not to be discouraged, we continued our plans, rented a car, found a nearby church.   It was a very welcoming, loving congregation that is used to having tourist visitors.  Before the meeting began Brian had a nice long visit with an old sage; Cindy and I had a nice visit with one of the full-time missionaries.  We kind of wondered what happened to Walt.  He had gone back to the car and using its heater, had blown dry his sweatshirt so I would have something to take the chill off while sitting in the air-conditioned chapel.  A sign of a true friend, don't you think?  Thanks, Walt!

After the meeting, we returned to our car and ventured out on what I hoped would not be a goose chase.  In doing some research on Maui, I had come upon the rumor of an old LDS chapel, built in 1851 and believed to be the oldest one still in existence.  I found stories of the first missionary to the islands, Elder George Q. Cannon, and his success in bringing the Restored Gospel to the Hawaiian people.  It was at this location that he preached to and baptized the very first converts and then subsequently helped them to build this meetinghouse.  My online search had produced a couple of faded photographs and merely hearsay directions.  There is no address. 

I somehow got it in my mind that I wanted to find the Pulehu Chapel.  I wanted to get a taste of this unique history.  I wanted to see for myself; I wanted to be apart of something important; I wanted to stand in this holy place.

It was a goose chase.  The directions I had were fine.  My carelessness as a navigator apparently interfered with my spotting the turnoff.  After continuing down the center of the island and not seeing anything, I noticed we began to turn left and were running parallel to the coast going toward the untamed part of the island at the base of the Volcano Haleakala.  It was a terrible road and it didn't take long to realize something was not right.  I suggested we turn the car around and begin to backtrack.  I don't know if it was the rain, the visiting with friends, the partially hidden street sign, or what.  However on our way back with renewed vigilance, we finally were able to find the chapel.  Sure enough.  There was Ke Street with a hardware store on its corner.  How had we missed it?

My plan to have a picnic lunch on the grounds of the chapel gave way due to rain.  Instead, we ate our sandwiches and fruit while sitting in the car.  I read the histories I had found to my friends.  We all felt the sanctity of this special place.  Then the rain subsided and we were able to walk the impeccable grounds of this beautiful little church.  In finding the door unlocked, we went inside, signed the guest book, and witnessed the unique feeling of being in the birthplace of what has become the second largest religion in the Hawaiian Islands.

I am so thankful that we found the little church.  I'm pretty sure it is well off the beaten path of most of Hawaii's visitors.  Sometimes the most precious pearls are found only after a little difficulty and sacrifice.

The price paid was small in comparison to the blessings received.

Can you say Tsunami?

I can hardly spell tsunami, and yet that word impacted my Hawaiian Holiday in a big way.

The flight over was uneventful (yeah!)  All was going as planned.  Perhaps that should have tipped me off that something big was around the corner.  We arrived Friday night, took a taxi to the Marriott on Waikiki Beach.  Beautiful room, beautiful place, beautiful bed.

Abruptly awakened by the pounding on our door at 5:00 am; it was Walt Myers.  It was former police chief, Walt Myers, saying we needed to get a car and move to higher ground.  What?!  When Walt is concerned, I am concerned.  We quickly dressed, trying to wrap our minds around this turn of events, and proceeded down to the lobby of the hotel to learn more about the situation.  It is all a little hazy from this vantage point of a week later.  We learned that an earthquake in Chile had sent a rumbling and a disturbance in our direction; a series of tsunami waves which were due around 11:00 am.  We learned there would be a vertical evacuation for all the tourists on Waikiki Beach.  Everyone would be moved to the third floor or higher.  Immediately our concern became personal.  Our reservation was only for one night.  If the worst happened, would we have a place to stay?  Marriott reassured us they would not kick us out.  Then our thoughts turned to food and water.  There was a breakfast buffet on the first level of the hotel.  Who knew what would be available later.  We went to the buffet.  I had no appetite.  I was trying to get hold of my family on the mainland, to connect with them before they heard the news and worried about us.  I knew I should be digging into what may be my last real meal for awhile.  I ate some pineapple...

The morning was filled with phonecalls, trying to find water to stockpile, looking out to sea, envisioning what would be seen, imagining the beauty being transformed by an angry ocean.  Our room was on the 12th floor, in the so-called safe zone of our tsunami-safe hotel.  My children were skeptical when told we were being placated by this ambiguous term.  Just what does "tsunami-safe" mean?  Why would we trust anything so seemingly contradictory as that? 

Out on the balcony of our room in our tsunami-safe hotel, we had the perfect lookout spot to watch the impending drama that the scientists were telling us was sure to come. We watched and listened as police cars and fire engines drove by with their sirens and bullhorns warning people to move to safe zones.  Our natural inclination was to find a car and drive to the mountains.  It felt odd to just stay put and wait for the high waters to come where we were.

A few rogue surfers refused to run, preferring instead to claim bragging rights of riding the big wave in.

The projected time came and went with little more than some visible withdrawing of the waters.  Reefs were uncovered, leaving us to anticipate the subsequent resurgence of the high waters.  It never came.  The safety we had prayed for continued with only our peace of mind being the victim that day. 

Later during the week, we noticed that "Tsunami Survivor 2010" tee-shirts began popping up.  I kind of wanted one, too.  Granted, the threats never came to fruition for which we were very thankful.  Yet our friend (nemesis), the tsunami, continued to inflict its nuisance all during the week of our stay, certainly qualifying us as survivors of the tsunami that never really came to be.

Join me this week as I continue to chronicle our adventures in Hawaii.  When our safety was threatened I realized in a small way that life is meant to be lived to its fullest.  As I realized that sometimes plans must be changed due to circumstances beyond my control, I learned a much-needed lesson to adopt the island lifestyle and go which ever way the "waves" choose to take me.

Irony? Coincidence? Tender Mercy!

Yesterday my mind was turned to peace, particularly the peace that can come during trials.  I even went so far as to reference the challenge of waves and wind and storms.  Why did my mind turn to those things? 

So that this morning when I was awakened at 5:00 am with a tsunami warning, my mind was instantly turned to the need for my Savior, and the promise of peace and calm during chaos.

We are sitting in our 12th floor hotel room in the Marriott at Waikiki Beach.  Waiting.  Wondering.  Hopeful.  We don't feel in danger.  We are anxious but thankful.  Brian and I are traveling with our good friends Walt and Cindy Myers.  We are gathering for a devotional.  We have brown licorice and Dots.  We should be good.

Thank you for your prayers.

Peace, Be Still

A couple of years ago a bumper sticker caught me off guard.  I am almost too embarrassed to share with you how dumb I was, and how slow to understand the pessimism of its message.  It said this:  "Visualize Whirrled Peas". For a brief moment, I tried to take its suggestion literally.   Quickly I jumped out of linear thinking mode and realized its subtle message, that the yearning for World Peace is hopeless and it is an idea whose time will never come, that it is fruitless to even consider.

I was actually a little offended by its hopelessness.  I know that our world faces dire circumstances.  I know the outlook is bleak, and frightening, and seemingly futile.  But I have been taught that if we fail to have hope we indeed have nothing.

I often feel quite helpless regarding my role in the pursuit of change in the world.  I have heard it all about the power of one person's vote; our need to get involved; the danger of passivity.  And I do agree that we can't sit at home hoping someone else will stand up and make some noise.  But that doesn't seem to be what calls to me.  What does call to me is making the effort toward peace in my family, in my children's lives, and in my own heart.

A modern-day Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin writes this about personal peace:

"The value of peace within our hearts cannot be measured. When we are at peace, we can be free of worry and fear, knowing that with the Lord’s help, we can do all that is expected or required of us. We can approach every day, every task, and every challenge with assurance and confidence in the outcome."

This is the kind of peace that I can visualize.  Even though at times this may seem as hopeless as "World Peace", I know this is attainable and is a principle of truth.

Elder Wirthlin continues:



"Despite dismal conditions in the world and the personal challenges that come into every life, peace within can be a reality. We can be calm and serene regardless of the swirling turmoil all about us."

That is my goal, to be calm and serene amidst the chaos that surrounds me.  Am I always successful?  Sadly, no.  But I understand the source of peace and I try to tap into it daily.

I love the imagery of the Savior calming the tempests.  I own a beautiful painting that hangs in my living room.  It is one of the many that have been created to capture this remarkable miracle.  We all look at these types of artwork, seeing beyond the physical representations.  Rarely do we find ourselves on a boat in the middle of a storm, being tossed about and fearing for our lives.  Often, however, I think we all feel beaten by the storms of life, the daily tempests that pound us against the rocks.  And just as the Savior calms the waters in the paintings, He puts forth His hand with the same confidence, power, and infinite love to calm our troubled spirits.


"The phrase “Peace, be still” (Mark 4:39), that the Savior uttered when he calmed the storm-tossed sea, can have the same calming influence upon us when we are buffeted by life’s storms."

This powerful directive goes hand in hand with a related one found in Psalms 46:10:  "Be still, and know that I am God". Sometimes the storm is within us.  Sometimes our anxiety, anguish, and fear create internal turmoil that threatens our peace.  When the Savior admonishes "Be Still", perhaps He is not calming the outward influences like the wind and the waves or the mean people or the money problems.  I hope we recognize that sometimes the only one we can calm is ourselves.  It would be nice if we could make everyone else do what we want them to do so that our lives can be full of peace.  Not. going. to happen.

Thanks for letting me share some of my thoughts.  I am not trying to calm the storms that rage around me.  I am working on the ones I have most control over.  Mine.

I have a friend...

whom I have known for twenty-one years or so.   She has been a bright spot in my life for all of those twenty-one years.  We don't always get to spend much time together, and there are often lulls between seeing each other.  This is when the sunshine of my life is a little dimmer.

She and I are not that much alike.  She is bubbly and full of fun.  She is the life of the party.  She draws people to her in remarkable ways.  And yet, we complement each other so well.  We understand one another.  We can almost read minds sometimes.

For several years we were the 5th year leaders at Girls Camp.  We worked well together, had a lot of fun, and hopefully brought out the best in the girls that we taught.  It was inspiring to see them rise to be leaders while we supported them from the background.  We have watched together as they have moved on to become remarkable women.

There are too many facets of our friendship to recount them all here.  We have shared each other's highs and lows.  We laugh together.  We cry together.  Patti, dear, I love you.  Happy Birthday, my sweet friend.

(Photo credit:  Laura Peterson)

You may be right; I may be crazy...

I have received a reminder recently of the brilliance of Billy Joel.  I know that he is an old man now, with what little hair is left being very gray. Hard to believe because this is the Billy Joel I know.  This is the one that croons to me with those puppy dog eyes that he'll take me just the way I am. 

As much as he was a part of my growing up, I have been delighted to learn of his similar impact in my children's lives.  Jackie and a friend flew to Sacramento just to see him in concert.  Erica and Miranda saw the Billy Joel Musical, "Movin' Out" in Portland.  Robert, by definition, is THE piano man.

I would like to share with you a portion of an essay written by my daughter, Miranda.

"Billy Joel is the voice of the people. All throughout my life I have heard him in the background, treasured up my favorites and moved on. It is only in recent years that I’ve discovered that he’s written more popular songs than just “Uptown Girl” and “The Longest Time”.You listen to him in sequence and it is overwhelming how many songs are familiar. It’s probably the sheer diversity of all the songs that make it so hard to know him when you hear him. Who would think that the guy who sings, “We Didn’t Start the Fire” is the same who croons “Just the Way You Are”. But they are all him and they are all brilliant."

Perhaps my favorite Billy Joel song is "A New York State of Mind".  It speaks to my soul.  It fills me with longing to go to that singular place.  On one of my trips to New York City I purchased a souvenir in Central Park, a children's book based on this beautiful song.  I look forward to sharing it with my grandchildren, making sure they grow up with the music of Billy Joel.  But I think my work is already done.  My children seem quite ready to pass on the legacy themselves.