Life is as Magical as You Allow it to Be and Other Lessons from Kauai, Hawaii

life is as magical as you allow it to be.

i did a yoga practice this morning and in savasana, the final resting pose, i thought about how this is the pose of integration. when all the movement and activity is done, you lie down. you rest. you allow the benefit of the practice to wash over you. 

i returned back to ct after my month on kauai and it’s been nice to settle back into some of my old routines, but this time with a deeper appreciation for the magic that exists in the medicine of a routine. of a familiar place. of being in the arms of my loved one. 

i’m someone who longs for adventure. who longs for change. for something new. i have a hard time staying stuck in one place. i want to explore and do and see it all. 

i had a lot of expectations for the month i spent on kauai. i wanted it to be magical. i wanted to have deep, sacred, profound experiences. i couldn’t wait to have some alone time on an island living my mermaid dreams after being in close partnership for this entire year. i wanted to ground in a sacred space. 

and…while it was indeed magical (I mean c’mon) the feeling I had come over me again and again was … boredom. a feeling of being in the mundane. even after breaking out of my quarantine and exploring and seeing and eating all there was to explore and see and eat, i thought – what now? do i just sit at the beach all day? do i go eat more açaí bowls? do i drink another coconut? 

instead of being in ecstasy in my alone-ness, i just felt…bored. as if my own company wasn’t enough entertainment. 

it was such a contrast to my experience during my solo trip in bali this time last year where i fell in love with my self a million moments a day. where i could gain so much pleasure from tasting fruit, the feeling of cold water on my skin, writing poetry in the sand, and felt like i was having orgasms from life in love with the wild, wondrous pleasure of it all. 

“life is allowed to feel this good” was my mantra. 

but this time was different. the island always gives you what you need.

maybe it was covid, maybe it was the quarantine, or maybe mama kauai was really showing me the parts i still have yet to heal. to truly teach me to slow down, no distractions, just me and the trees, and really test me – how much magic can i find there? how much joy? how much magic exists in the mundane? why can’t that be enough?

this lesson really culminated when I took magic mushrooms on the blue moon on halloween. i’ve been wanting to do mushrooms for the past 3 years for a sacred, spiritual experience, but it just hadn’t happened yet. so when i had the chance to do them in hawaii, alone, i thought, this must be it. my divine moment. i was like here it is, my magical, sacred, profound experience. 

and so i took the mushrooms…

and nothing happened. literally nothing happened. i didn’t trip. i didn’t see anything shift or change. i never felt high. i just felt…bored. like, is this it? what’s so magical about this? it’s just the same old me, thinking the same old thoughts. 

while i felt disappointed, i also understood that plant medicine always gives you the experience you need, and so i’m carrying her lessons with me. (and maybe next time, i’ll take a higher dose 😉

and of course, i can’t discount all of the magical moments that I DID experience.

the way the raw, rugged nature literally took my breath away. the way my failed mushroom trip ended in an unexpected full moon cacao ceremony surrounded by strangers that quickly turned into soul family. the conversations and connections I made with the beautiful women who surrounded me. finding myself living on an orchard, making fresh orange and lemon juice, learning how to crack open coconuts, and discovering and exploring fruit i didn’t even know existed. the glimpses of rainbows i saw. the way the rain felt so delicious. the red dirt. the sea turtles. the time the ocean in all her power and glory took my kindle, journal, and shoes, but left my car keys and phone, giving me back what I needed and taking what I didn’t. the fresh spring water that came out of the mountains. the heavenly açaí bowls and sushi burritos.  time spent in the hammock watching the trees and my thoughts. not wearing shoes. the way you could see waterfalls in the mountains and trace the trail of water from the streams to the ocean.

coming back to simplicity. raw beauty. connection to mama earth. eating food directly from her soil. how people gather to watch the sunset, never taking for granted the beautiful land they live on.

and now, after a week of integration, i’m noticing the subtle shifts. the lessons during quarantine taught me more about my thought patterns, my habits. my need to constantly multi-task. the feeling of needing to act on every thought i have. if i’m doing something, and i remember something else i was going to do, i have to go and do it in that moment before i forget again, breaking my focus, making it take twice as long to do anything.

why? why am i in such a rush? 

stop. slow down. breathe. there is time for everything. 

and in the magic…

i felt so grateful to return home to a person i love, who i enjoy spending time with, who i can be both alone and together with at the same time, to return to the leaves that have changed from green to orange to red, summer descending into fall, descending into winter.

i like seeing the birds i grew accustomed to over this past year. the blue jay and the cardinal. i have a desire to learn about the plants that grow in my backyard, trading cassava plants and palm trees for red maples and black birches. realizing that what grows in my backyard is not better or worse than what grows in hawaii, it just…is.

there is magic and beauty and wonder found anywhere on earth, simply because, earth. if only you allow yourself to open up to it and experience it.

yes on solo trips to hawaii. yes on adventures around the world.

but also in your daily life, in routine, and in sameness, how much can you find time to wonder and to truly see?

how much can you allow yourself to open to the magic that is?

from my heart to yours,

leya