Alright, the journey continues!1 In the previous piece of this series, we considered how to hone our internal navigation tool of intuition through trusting ourselves. We looked at how we may find alignment within, to sense what is true to self. We explored this as a means of preparation for listening more deeply, to hear what may be calling us. And this calling is what is top of mind today. How do we know which of these “calls” are the invitations which direct us toward a more connected and aligned life? And, where do they come from? Glad you asked! I have a few ideas that have worked for me. Let’s circle up and take a moment to consider Invitation, the second of the four I’s for finding a path ahead
At the core, an invitation is an offer to participate with both permission and acceptance. Some come in literal forms by the mail, requesting your response, should you attend, as to whether you will be eating chicken or steak. Others show up in much more subtle ways. At times, their sources are less obvious than soon-to-be-wed couples or the parents of an almost one year old. Invitations live in our bodies, are felt through nature, or evolve from relationship. Some come in an instant of knowing and others are slowly revealed over time. Yet, throughout these forms and variations, the invitations all share a similar desire: your response.
About eight years ago, Molly and I were on the search for a new place to live. We began our romance in a whirlwind that we called “full immersion dating,” jumping from a brief start in Virginia to living together in Bulgaria then Italy then France and back to Virginia again. Virginia had been my home, off and on in different forms, for most of my life. And when we returned, we settled into a magical, little spot in Charlottesville2, that I kept as my home base amidst many departures for extended travels and residencies prior. But, even in that comfortable nest, we both knew that we wanted to ground our budding relationship into somewhere that was fresh and new for us. So, we made a list of priorities and dreamed on locations that felt possible. Then, we set out on travels to see what might align.
After some beautiful camping and minivan touring of the Pacific Northwest, we started to think that the San Juan Islands may just be the place for us. We held close to zero connection to the community and no sense of what the story of those lands were. There was no true sense of sacred invitation or calling, we just felt a certain kindredness to the islands (and the inspiring mountain hikes across the water). Without much direction otherwise, our interest was sparked. Still, we had more exploring to do, which led us back to New Zealand (a place where we had shared some of our earliest times of connection together and where Molly lived previously for a few years). I was all in!3 But, perhaps along the same lines of that search for “newness” that I needed in our moving away from Virginia, Molly felt a strong sense of New Zealand not being the place for us (yet). So, the San Juan Islands continued to pique our shared imagination and we began to settle into the idea that we may be heading that way. Little did we know, we were days away from a major, surprise shift.
During our return journey from New Zealand, we planned an extended weeklong layover in Honolulu.4 Neither of us had visited before and we thought some sunny beach time would be a romantic treat as we made our way onward to the Blue Ridge Mountains. No expectation beyond rest and relaxation. Then, within those first hours of feeling the winds and the waves carry their messages over the lands of Hawaiʻi, our trajectory quickly changed. While we still loved the enchanting beauty and mystery of that wonderful archipelago in the Pacific Northwest, the pull of the warmer Pacific waters and deep spirit of Aloha we felt setting foot on O‘ahu made the San Juan Islands feel like a distant memory. There was a draw that had not felt present at any point prior in our search. A sense of home and peace landed inside us, alongside a rush of excitement. We looked at each other with true surprise and said, “Could we live here? Is that even possible?” And, we decided that the answer was yes.
I bring up this story of finding our path for two reasons: one, it includes a tale of initial invitation (the first sign of “calling”) showing up in our bodies through an unexpected confidence in what our intuition detected as good for us; two, the story of full invitation that followed is where we truly found our alignment. I could easily leave it at that: we landed on an incredible island, we found the beauty overwhelming, claimed it to be our future home, and onward we went to live happily ever after. Yet, the events that followed are what most defined our experience and shifted us from intuitive yes toward a true sense of grounding invitation. When we made it back to Charlottesville, we started to share with a few friends about our new call toward Hawaiʻi. In one of those fateful dialogues with my running partner, Annette, she shared about her dear friend with heritage on the islands, Kehaulani (Kehau). Annette suggested that Kehau could likely offer us some suggestions and ideas as we considered moving to a new place with no prior connections. So, as one does, I wrote Kehau a simple message asking for recommendations for our housing search and plans to come. Her response was so profoundly wise that it shook us to our core. With no lack of warmth or kindness but still with a clear conviction, she very directly pivoted from my inquiry around housing toward a deeper inquiry of her own, “What is your purpose with moving here?” I still have those first messages that we exchanged where she invited Molly and me to dialogue with her over a video chat and wrote, “I live modestly with my extended family on land that has been in our family for over nine generations. It was once agricultural and is now urban. Hence, my perspective on life in Hawai'i stems from those experiences and, inherently, through an indigenous lens. There is much to share, as you prepare to immerse yourself in life in the islands.”
Candidly, I do not know what our experience may have looked like if we had inadvertently bypassed these conversations and the wisdom that Kehau brought to us. We were very fortunate to be reminded of the land’s heritage and the people who carry that sense of stewardship and deep belonging. Over the coming weeks, we shared interactions with Kehau, who generously shared perspective and teachings with us as we considered our move. Ultimately, the space that felt most true to us was within her offering (and one that was further extended through another teacher who she connected us to as well, Uncle Bruce, with his own strong heritage and lineage to the lands) to see our opportunity to come to Hawai'i as guests of the land. We were encouraged to consider not how we could arrive in search of our personal gain; rather, we were asked to think of how we could be a service, live as students, carry humility and gratitude for the people and natural world of the waters and land, and listen regularly for when our invitation may deepen or when we may be asked to carry onward. This arrived through very direct teaching from a few community leaders and through a very subtle sensation of how we found our own spiritual paths in this journey.
I share all this with invitation in mind. Not that our course was determined by invitation or validation from others; rather, that it was enriched and deepened toward a place of greater alignment and opportunity. The lessons, that Kehau and Uncle Bruce gave me, helped me find my way to my work while there, informed my learnings and perspectives as I explored and grew to know the islands, and also helped us both discover when it was time to depart (with gratitude in our hearts) to make our way into our life beyond.5 The path could have easily still existed to live in Hawai'i with deep joy and healing, if we had simply just trusted our intuition and sense of personal calling from the start. But, when we opened ourselves up to involving others and trusting in community, we found that our intuition was met with a deeper invitation to participate in a more whole and connected pathway.
I do not think every invitation needs to come from an external source. Often, the invitation arrives through our own inner guides and is observed solely through our intuitive sense of what may be calling us as the aligned path.6 But, I do share this simple story as a reminder that there is always room for patience and waiting to see how our invitations may meet with the environments, practices, and communities that we are living within. And, in that waiting and listening, we gather ourselves up to hear more deeply and we ready ourselves to meet our own intentions. Because, as I wrote at the beginning, every invitation opens the door for response. And, that response is where the third “I” (intention) comes more deeply into play. I’ll save more on that for next time!
For now, I extended these questions to you: where do you feel your intuition guiding you these days? And, how could you listen more deeply to find a sense of sacred invitation within that? That may come from within or that may come from beyond. But, if you listen closely, how can honing into that deeper invitation allow for you to find greater connection to the path which you are setting out upon? It may not always be clear or obvious (in truth, we may not recognize it fully until later!) but I do believe there might be something inviting you more deeply into your own life, if you pause and listen. And, you just may have a response to offer.
Kind Moon is a coaching and facilitation practice, led by Rob Douglas, with offerings including personal coaching, integration and mindfulness practices, tea sessions, and beyond. Please book a free discovery call or reach out via the Kind Moon website to learn more. And, as always, I invite you to share this Substack with others.
Following the breadcrumbs…
Things that intrigued me this week and may do the same for you.
PODCAST: Ayana Elizabeth Johnson (on The Interview). It’s a brief dialogue but I really enjoy listening to Dr. Johnson’s perspective and wisdom. I think we could use more teachers and voices like hers in these public dialogues around climate.
SUBSTACK: Waxing and Weaving (by Molly Reeder). I know I have mentioned before but wanted to link to my beautiful wife’s writing project once again, because she has released a new format for paid subscriber content. Very excited and love every word she shares. Check it out!
TEA: A Different Eighteen (Song Tea). Sometimes a very clear and straightforward red (black) tea can be such a perfect morning drink, especially when accompanying pastry or treat. I’ve been really hankering for that combination and I love Song Tea’s selections for reds. I have always found leaves from the Sun Moon Lake area of Taiwan to be great for pairing with food too.
One more skipped week of writing in the books. Thanks for your patience. This time, my creative energy was focused on a different task: officiating a wedding! Many reflections on this particular ceremony and my overall experiences with officiating over the years; however, I’ll save those thoughts for another day. Congrats to the beautiful and magical newlyweds, Kelly and Matt!
When I say little, I mean sub 400 square feet. Which at the time we thought to be pretty tight quarters. Little did we know, that was the LARGEST place that we would get to live in together for the next three plus years. And, while I will always value a home that offers two bathrooms, I have realized that I am generally content in small spaces that limit the accumulation of “stuff” and guide me toward being outdoors.
Dear New Zealand, I will always remain “all in.” I do not know how to reconcile the distance from family and the challenge of an inexcusable carbon footprint that the travel would bring if we tried to maintain a relationship with both you and our community in the United States. It’s a real pickle. But, I do want to thank you for all the wonder and depth that you have given me each time I visit you. And, most importantly, for the dear friends that you have given both Molly and me.
It seems that the glory days of credit card points have passed by us; but, a decade ago, they were the best thing going for extending travels! I acknowledge that credit card companies are predatory and built on the backs of a deeply corrupt banking system. So, I stand by anyone who ethically would not participate in the use of them. Though, with next to zero dollars in our spending account alongside strong commitment to never extend our credit beyond what we could pay off immediately, while always working on no-fee and zero-APR-during-the-first-year cards, using the system to your advantage to get thousands of dollars of free travel was a pretty groovy thing back then. So, thanks to United for flying us and Hyatt for hosting us on that first trip to Hawaiʻi, courtesy of our debt seeking friends at Chase.
I by no means am implying that two individuals spoke on behalf of anyone else beyond themselves or that our invitation on how to approach our season of life in Hawaiʻi was “right” in consideration of larger systemic or cultural considerations. What we did experience, though, was an opportunity to be informed through the lens of people who carried deep learning and ancestral wisdom that arrived through lineage. And, that in turn opened the door for further paths to explore community connections and learnings. I do not want to paint a picture any more grand or overly presumptuous than our own small and unique experience of how we grew in our connection with our own journeys.
I have been exploring some different practices on listening to my inner guides and their invitations. One is a simple practice of “2 Pen Writing.” This is a simple writing practice in which you bring inquiry inward. To do this, I recommend two uniquely colored pens and a fresh journal. Before beginning writing, try taking some deep breaths and considering where a sensation, feeling, or energy is within you that feels like a source of truth (or externally, if it feels such). Orient yourself toward where that may be. On a fresh page within the journal (or loose paper), with the first color pen, write a question/inquiry directed to the source of sensation. These questions can be anything, oftentimes the most easeful could be, "What would you like for me to know?" Then, switching pen colors, close your eyes and take a deep breath inviting the sensation/energy to be present, open your eyes and imagine writing from the perspective of that sensation. Do not try to edit or review as you go, just let the writing flow as a stream of consciousness. Write until the practice feels complete (often a full page, if not more). And, then put the pen down and look away from the writing. For some, that is enough. They do not review or re-read what came forward and the practice is simply to let the energy flow. For others, they want to review and spend time with the answer. If the latter, I recommend waiting a short period of time (at least 5 minutes) to bring yourself out of this state of "channeling" that imaginative space. If you repeat the practice, try 1) always returning to the same journal, 2) starting on a fresh/blank page, 3) using the same colored pens (I had a teacher who encourages ONLY using those selected pens for this practice and not using them for other daily writing--really embracing those colors' specific purpose and not creating additional attachments to them). And see what comes forth. You may hear something more clearly or discover what a voice for your inner guide that was previously inaccessible.