What is myth(ic)?

"These are mythic times...The challenge is to not see [the] trilogy of body, mind and spirit/ manaoio, manaolana, and aloha as a linear sequence, rather as an event
happening simultaneously and holographically"

-Manulani Aluli Meyer

A myth is a guide; it tells us what we must do to live more intensely. If we do not apply it to our own situation and make the myth a reality in our lives it will remain as incomprehensible as a board game which often seem confusing and boring until we start to play
-Karen Anderson

 "Myth in Hawaiian is defined as  "Mo'olelo ... story, tale, tradition, legend, journal record, article succession"
-Hawaiian Dictionary, Pukui and Ebert

 "As our storytellers continue to draw upon past knowledge, including looking to the animal world and to tribal storytellers for guidance, we grow in strength. We reshape our ancestors' stories for our children, so that these tales will, like our people, our spirits, endure."
- Carolyn Dunn

The water of Kane -- wai -- wealth and precious of all resources falls thick and abundant. The rain fills our rain barrel, and at the sink the last of our water bottles is filled with drinking water filtered and ready for a new day. I sit to write this morning, as Hina moves into the phases of thanksgiving. Tonight will be Kane Moon. One of the two nights especially important to give thanks to the gods, our guardians our 'aumakua  who give us life.

Hahai no ka ua i ka ulula'au
Rains always follow the forest.
The rains are attracted to forest trees
Knowing this, Hawaiians hewed only the trees that were needed
-'Olelo No'eau Hawaiian Proverbs

Can you smell rain coming? Link here for some beautiful photos and description of The Smell of Rain 

I'm preparing and gathering content for the workshop "These are Mythic Times" that starts in two weeks. Several different sources contribute to the process of this myth makers workshop and as teacher and epidemiologist Manu Meyer has suggested in the quote that opens this post, it does me well to see the process holographically.  Holographic is a fancy word for what Hawaiians would say is kaona ... "hidden meaning in Hawaiian poetry; concealed reference; hidden meaning." The process and the method for teaching this workshop start with appreciating the means of myth. To my way of thinking, myth is a recipe whose time has never gone out of fashion but might have become a recipe that has been taken for idle and impractical delusion. "Fairy tales" implying flights of fancy with no place in the real world. In all enduring cultures across time the proverbs, poetry, stories teach us through images and words that layer meanings so a child can understand and be given hope; and later a teen can see her heroic nature through a morphing pubescent hall of mirrors; later, a striving adult reads the same story and seeing the mirror cracked or a faceless woman seeking something 'else'; and even later still when time has worn lines in mango fresh flesh still the heart of a child feels the joy in breasts that sag like yesterday's water ballons.

The stories that began with The Safety Pin Cafe and continue now with The Joy Weed Journal are a holographic journey of people, culture and opportunities. These characters were born from my imagination but are I believe, a collective mirror and at the same time a familiar place where other stories -- your stories -- can grow or morph or become personally mythic.

• For one month, the pages of an internet "cafe and cottage" will open to you taste and see myth in the making. 
• We will read and eat the story and fill our bowls with those things of value to you; things you crave and things you know have sustained you over time. 
• You will come and recognize your Guardians your 'aumakua; naming them will give you what is best for you now.
• The myth and the private journal writings of The Joy Weed Journal will engage you in thinking, seeing, and rigorously exploring how a Border Witch -- one who criss-crosses cultures, ages, and places can be a real and approachable companion in your mythic life.
• Above all the process and the activity of myth-making is a verb that leads to respecting yourself.

Here's a class act that is timeless to me. A bit choppy video but the message comes right on through, "Respect Yourself" by the Staples Singers, 1972

THIS WORKSHOP HAS BEEN CANCELLED.

The Workshop "These are mythic times" starts Monday, April 22, 2013
Cost: $45
Interested? email me at mokihanacalizarATgmailDOTcom for details or to pay with a personal check.

CLICK HERE to buy using PayPal, at The Hedge Shop ... my newly opened on-line store.

Thank you so much, hope to see you in the workshop!
Mokihana

Here ... hear, Sea ... see: different ways to keep story alive

Yesterday I joined a small circle of people from my community to sing to the whales. There were singing bowls -- brass and glass and tones from people real high and some low. We made sounds up and shared songs already made up. The tide was low and the mudflats long. I shared the chant of my home place Aunty Edith's E HO MAI. Passed out the words written on white paper and said the words made to remember ask permission...

My heart is beating over-time and wakes me late at night with its deep beating. Medication, meditation...supplementation...tell the story ... piece a life together, witness ... tell the story. One way, two ways, make a story that pieces surviving survival together.

Today I am here ... hearing the sounds ... not sure the story is being pieced together just right. But, it makes no nevermind, does it ... it mostly matters that the story is told, again, again, again piecing one to the other...beat, beat, beat.

Thanks to Terri Windling for the link to Tracy Chapman's "Telling Stories" and her blog that inspires me again and again to show up ... tell the story.

Flight of the 'Alala

A magical process happens when a story is given to you and upon receipt you know you are responsible for the care of it. Almost every day I visit writer and mythic mistress Terri Windling's blog. I sit with her newest musings on fairy tales and stories, eat my oatmeal slowly as I add the words from Windling to feed me on the journey as storyteller. Like a name given with mana and meaning the story grows with time. In my case the names I was given at birth have a story; each a separate one. My Hawaiian name, 'Mokihana' is the one which has a legacy that could only be understood as I aged. Born at a time when the meaning of 'olelo (Hawaiian language) was at best clouded, to know the many meanings of it now is part of the responsibility.

I am in the process of cleaning the bones of the fairy tale I began writing in November-December. It began as a medicine story given to me in doses like homeopathic remedy: I was ill and in need of something ... not a cure, but something. With the editing and cleaning process the tale is being looked at in tinier chunks together with my son, my editor and my collaborator in Hawaiian culture. Together we see and feel the cultural component of the story from two perspectives and with each question posed possible flights of unexpected transport or point of clarity hone the bones. I love this!

Simultaneously I have been making room for a second part of the tale, expanding the character of Pale Wawae Border Witch. Several segments are clattering and laying themselves into story. I'm enjoying the direction and as always when the story is right, I am surprised! I make no bones about my writing being biographical; life influences everything I write. This week as I fly through the swirling winds of dreams while sleeping and delirium as illness takes me up and over out and through I have been visited by the Hawaiian Crow, 'Alala. It all started a few weeks ago when my friend Pam asked me if there were any crows in Hawaii. Without hesitation I said, "No." I was wrong.

Without giving away the delicious further adventures of Pale Wawae, I will leave you with this segment from the newest story, The Joy Weed Journal the private writings of Pale Wawae Border Witch.

 "Do you know the 'AlaLA, Pale Wawae?" Max asked as he took the mug of strong Oolong tea from me.

"I do not," I said. Though even when I said the word it seemed familiar. I sat in the rocking chair facing Max and sipped. Too hot. Cautious of the baby, I set the tea on the glass-topped wicker table and let it cool.

"And, Alala?" Shifting the emphasis on the vowels, the word was different and right away I knew it.

"Sure, Alala is the name of the road where Bunny and Chucky live. In Lanikai back on O'ahu." My first cousin "Chucky" was Charles Kaulana Wawae and his wife Bunny, was Bunny Roberts. Flashbacks to Alala Place. Scenes I rarely allowed while awake. A time when it was I who was the Faceless Woman lit up scenes behind my eyeballs.  Now was not the time for remembering. I willed the memory away and listened to Max's voice.

"It is the same word, but in the Nowadays pronunciation is lax. The word is 'AlaLA with the accent on the final syllable. It is the word, the name, of the Hawaiian Crow. A crow, a bird that is now extinct in the native places." Max paused and looked to me for any connections newly made on my part. None yet. I cocked my head, and the kahuna began his story.

....................

The beautiful video above comes from Hawaii, its title influenced this post and I suspect will influence the story and private writings of a border witch.