For many years I lived and worked in beautiful Hawaii. It was a privilege, not to mention a pleasure, to call the islands my home. In fact, in many ways those beautiful islands will always be ‘home’, for it was there I raised my son, thought about growing up (a bit) myself:-), and made many lifelong friends.
People often talk and think about Hawaii in terms of the natural beauty of the place, the ‘spirit of aloha’, sun and surf, music, and flower leis. One of the things that I appreciate most about Hawaii is the concept of ‘talking story’, a term usually associated with good, relaxed conversation, where thoughts, ideas and stories are shared.
After moving to Hawaii, I grew to love the term, ‘talking story’, because it really helped crystallize for me a way of connecting with others that was real, genuine, and sincere.
Although I wasn’t familiar with the term before I moved to Hawaii (more years ago than I care to admit – fortunately only my son is getting older):-), I was introduced to the concept, albeit unknowingly, by a little kindergartener in Alaska several years before. I wrote about it in my book, Log Cabin Logic, back in 90’s. I share that chapter with you here:
A young boy’s jacket may not seem like an invitation to you; but it was for me. Usually when we think of invitations, we think of something that comes in the mail, perhaps on heavy paper with fancy lettering; or maybe we think of verbal invitations over the phone or face to face; perhaps we even think, in this day and age of the information highway, of an invitation coming over the fax machine or by E-mail (Remember this was written in the 90’s). Regardless of the concept which you associate with an invitation, we all definitely have a specific one which immediately comes to mind when we think of invitations.
This particular invitation began as a dream. Like many people, I have always been enchanted and seduced by the idea of living in paradise. And like many others, I grew up believing that paradise and Hawaii were synonymous. It was a dream of mine from as early as I can remember to be able to visit Hawaii.
My grandmother shared my dream. I can remember her talking about wanting to go to Hawaii, walking the beach at Waikiki and picking up shells. As I grew older, my dream changed a bit from my grandma’s. Yes, I also wanted to go to Hawaii and walk the beach at Waikiki and like all teen-age girls, I was much more interested in picking up attention than looking for shells with grandma.
At one point, when I was in high school, grandma seriously considered taking me to Hawaii, to allow the realization of my dream, as well as hers. In fact, she actually issued a verbal invitation. She was gently reminded, however, by one of my uncles, she had more than one grandchild. I knew I was her favorite (as did each of my cousins), however, it would not have been fair for just the two of us to make the trip, so neither one of us went; an invitation missed.
Grandma never did realize her dream, and I grew up, went away to university, had other dreams and established other goals. One of my new dreams took me to Alaska, the frozen version of paradise. Living in a log cabin, we paid special attention to the thermometer on our front porch — it registered temperatures as cold as -80ºF. For one very cold and very long week that first winter, we did not see the mercury in the thermometer rise. I don’t know how cold it actually got, but it was a significant reminder of my childhood dream, a renewal of the invitation — now I was invited to Hawaii by the temperature; to walk the beach at Waikiki — to attract sunshine and warmth!!
I didn’t get to Hawaii until my son was a year old. My then husband didn’t really share my dream, but in at that time it was actually cheaper to fly from Alaska to the west coast if you did a triangle fare through Honolulu. He was, however, thrifty — the triangle fare was made to order. We only stayed 24 hours that first trip, but I knew this was an invitation I would someday dare to accept. As soon as I stepped out of the plane and felt the warmth of the sun and the gentle tradewind breezes, smelled the sweet, sultry, tropical fragrances, looked up into the azure sky and saw rainbows and sunshine, I knew Hawaii was where I was meant to be.
A couple years later, I was teaching in a small Indian village in the interior of Alaska. The village only had about 75 people. The school’s population reflected the village population, and in my class of K – 4grade 4, I only had a couple of students per grade.
The kindergarten class consisted of 2 little boys who were cousins, answering to the names of Pooh and Boy. All the kids were quick to tell me that Boy was NEW to the village, having just moved there the previous summer. This was intriguing information, as I had rarely encountered anyone, other than teachers, who had moved into a small village.
“Why did you move here, Boy?” I asked.
“My mom and I moved here to stay with my grandma,” he explained. “My mom and dad don’t live together anymore.”
Boy gave me the most compelling and logical reason I had ever heard for doing what I had dreamed of doing for years. When I asked him where he lived before moving to his grandma’s, he said, “Last year I lived in Hawaii, where we NEVER wear jacket.” A statement with particular appeal during the long winter months of sub-zero weather.
Every dream has its appropriate time, and it took another 3 years for me to accept the invitation of the jacket — to realize my childhood dream. I suppose I am like most folks, not always recognizing an invitation when it is extended or choosing to accept only those easy invitations — the one’s with little or no risk. It takes sensitivity, insight, courage and awareness of timing to accept an invitation. It must be recognized, then considered, before being accepted. This is especially difficult if an invitation is packaged in a different way.
How many invitations to grow do we miss? How many opportunities are lost? Are we going so fast that we often don’t recognize or have the courage to risk accepting an invitation which just might allow us to realize a long-forgotten dream; to fulfill our potential?
It took 3 more years, and in that summer, after my own divorce, I moved with my own kindergarten-aged son to Hawaii — the timing was right, the risk was taken, the dream became reality because I developed the courage to RSVP. I found new opportunities for growth, change and challenge through the acceptance of the invitation.
I realized that life is a series of invitations, some blatant, some subtle; some easy, some not — what makes life truly interesting and worth getting up for every morning are the invitations we choose to accept. I accepted one I had received many times in many forms. Now I too was able to say, “I live in Hawaii — where we wear flowers rather than jackets.”
Creating success via log cabin logic — the attitude determines our ability to identify, accept and/or reject invitations; to follow our dreams to realize our potential.
Every choice we make provides the foundation for creating success.
