Messengers...

The other day, I walked out of the elevator in my apartment building over two dozen stories in the sky and noticed a single white feather with a Beautiful fringed tip of iridescent green, right on the carpet of my floor, right there in the middle of where I needed to step out, so I couldn't miss it. 

I figured it was from one of the green parakeets that flock home to roost in a massive tree not too far from where I live. How it ended up floating into the little window, I wasn't sure but I was grateful to pick it up and add it to my collection of serendipitous feather discoveries. 

There was a time when the green parakeets, which are introduced and considered an agricultural pest and nightmare for farmers, served as a series of powerful hō'ailona, or Divine Signs, for me a few years back. Their appearances, squawks, and unusual presence at certain junctures in my Life was noticed and appreciated as communication from the Spirit World. Thus finding a green-tinged feather right there when I stepped out of the elevator, one of any three I could have ascended in, was thus a Beautiful affirming sign. 

I remember over a decade ago, sitting outside of my work building one mid-morning as we were going to decorate and ride a trolley to represent our organization in an Annual Prince Kūhiō Day Parade. I was sitting on the curb talking with a co-worker. I was glancing up at the morning sky, which was pale blue and cloudless, and glancing back and forth to my friend, and I noticed something small and white in the sky that was so tiny, but reflecting Sunlight at times making it visible. 

I intermittently watched it slowly get bigger and bigger as it seemed to be falling slowly from the Heavens. I continued talking with, and listening to my friend, and glancing up now and then. At some point, I recognized the object as a feather. It floated downward towards us. As it came closer, the trajectory was leading it towards us, at a great angle from when I first saw it. 

I kept talking to my friend, and as I sat there, I extended my arm out and opened my hand. To my shock, and my friend's shock, I slightly leaned forward a few inches an the feather landed square in my hand. I was speechless. I saved that feather and still have it to this day.

After that experience, I tried to be more aware of Life around me. A Mindfulness and Awareness and Discernment. Noticing the small details of my surroundings. A Mindfulness, similar to what the Dalai Lama speaks of, and the Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh speak of. Combined with an alertness to keep my five senses open at all times. 

I went to a special place in nature on Sunday morning and my Shama Thrush messenger showed up as usual. I didn't have time to concentrate on communicating, but the feathery animated presence and bird song alone, of this messenger, was appreciated and meaningful in so many ways.

The other day, I was in my office at work working on some heavy Cultural and Spiritual kuleana, or responsibility, and I heard the loud clicking of a gecko on the left side of my office. It was what I call an old school gecko. The kind that inhabited my Grandmother's home. The kind that I would catch and play with and release. I could see their little eggs stuck in holes in the single-groove wooden walls and at times, I could even see eggs in their translucent bellies as I held them upside down, cradled in my hand, and rubbed their tummies which put them to sleep. 

I can't remember in fifteen years of being at my current job, of ever having a gecko in my office, or more incredibly hearing that so familiar "click, click, click, click..." they make at times. Yet there was that loud clicking, which pierced the quiet of my office. I was so grateful. I immediately thought of my Grandmother and thanked her for her Love and Presence. 

The next day, I was in my office again, this time reading a mo'olelo about Kamehameha for a presentation. There again, while immersed in deep reflective thought, I was startled to hear the loud gecko clicking, this time on the right side of my office. I was grateful again. 

I glanced up towards where I had heard the sound, in a cluttered office full of all things Hawaiian, ancient and new, and caught a glimpse of one of the largest geckos I have ever seen slowly descend down the wall emerging from behind a light sconce and down behind my bookcase where an akua hulu manu of Kū sits perched up there, along with a special pōhaku, gifted by a friend, and which has a kupua Spirit in it. 

The Mo'o, the lizard, was light colored, not quite white, but close to it. I was left humbled and speechless to witness it descend. I then thanked the Mo'o audibly, and my Grandmother as such excitement and gratitude filled my entire being.

The next day, I was again in my office and again mid-day, and I was reading an email from a Beautiful friend and 'Āina protector,  and right when I started reading her emotive words, I heard the loud clicking again, this time right above me, seemingly coming from the air conditioning vent in my ceiling tiled roof. I looked up with Amazement again and Gratitude. I felt like this was a goodbye. 

This Mo'o. First on the left side of my office, the female Hina side, then the right side, the male Kū side, next to an akua hulu manu of Kū of all things and a male pōhaku Spirit, then right above me. Where Kū and Hina meet. Kau ka lā i ka lolo. The Midday Sun above the Head. The Brain. So much kaona or secondary meaning and messages to discern in such a short amount of time, and in the days after.

That night I came home from work and I parked my car in our parking garage in the basement. I walked over to the elevator to catch it up. Yes. Only one flight up to the ground floor. But I was exhausted and my inguinal hernia still needs to get repaired so stairs are not my friend. 

I heard the familiar "ding" of the elevator's arrival and as the door slid open, something dropped from the center of the top of the elevator door jamb right in front of me, and landed right at my feet in the bottom of the elevator door jamb. 

I looked down and was astonished to see a mini-me version of my office Mo'o. About half the size. I immediately blocked the elevator door sensor with my hand so as not to let the door close and crush the Mo'o. We stared at each other for what seemed like an Eternity. Then I slowly bent down and put my hand on the ground in front of the Mo'o to see if she would climb up onto my hand so I could place here somewhere safer. She remained motionless for about five seconds, then darted off to the side and into the darkness of the basement.

I chuckled to myself, almost in disbelief at the affirming sign. Humbled. Grateful. I have seen at the most five or six Mo'o like this in over twenty-years living in my building. That's how rare the sighting is for me.

The final affirmation came when  a few days later, I took my son, Elliott, for a little fresh-air and fishing at Kaka'ako Waterfront Park at Twilight to give him a break from his MCAT preparation and studying. We were only there for less than a half-hour as the Sun was quickly setting. We didn't have much time to fish, and even less a chance of catching anything in that short amount of time. However, the time spent with my son was worth more than catching all the fish in the Sea.

From a tall coconut tree right behind us, as we were on the rocks trying not to get splashed by large waves, we both heard the unmistakable loud clicking of an old school gecko somewhere high up the tree. "Click, click, click...click..." I excitedly asked Elliott if he heard it which he replied that he had. I said your great-grandmother is here with us! We both laughed. It may have been the loudest gecko clicking I have ever heard from thirty-feet up in the top of a coconut tree and audible over the roar of the crashing waves.

This past weekend, I came home in the late afternoon, and stopped to talk to two residents of my building as I was entering the front door. Two women, sitting on separate benches, enjoying the breeze. One, a Beautiful kupuna who now lives by herself, had lost her brother, sister and mother over the years I have known her. The other woman was a nurse for many, many years until health challenges took over and she eventually retired. She lives alone too.

I stood in the doorway of my building entrance, with the door propped open by my body, as we exchanged small talk, the three of us. At some point, Glenda, who had lost her siblings and mother, blurted out about how much she misses her brother. 

I took the opportunity to quickly share with both of these neighbors, about how our Loved Ones are always around us, especially when we need them. I shared quick stories of gifted friends who see Spirit, of lessons in the Afterlife as our Souls continue our Shared Journeys. Of experiences I had with my Mother visiting me a few months after he passing and the things she told me. I encouraged Glenda to talk to her brother. Her sister. Her Mother. They are still with her, loving her, supporting her. Seeking redemption and forgiveness for regrets through the goodness in her Life. In her Happiness. Her Love. 

Both women seemed excited and touched and I expressed my Love as I let them know that I had to get upstairs as a parade of residents entered and exited past me as I stood there holding the door open with my body. It was a Beautiful Ephemeral moment in time, filled with Joy, Happiness, Sorrow, Excitement and Love...

I went to the elevator and thought to myself, maybe I shared too much. Despite how Beautiful the connection was I still briefly doubted myself. Not everyone believes as I do. Not everyone is ready to believe. That in our Passing, we remain connected to all of our Loved Ones. That the tethered cords are there. 

That we continue our Journey of Learning and Refining the Soul. That some remain here on this dimensional plane, while others ascend to higher levels of growth and experience and purpose. I chuckled to myself that I was compelled to share and had no choice. That is what my na'au told me to do. My visceral intuition. My guts. Something my Mother shared with me to do four months after she passed. Listen to my Na'au. 

If I don't believe that experience of my Mother communicating with my Beautiful Humble Gifted Friend, right in front of me, on a mid-morning beach, as tears streamed down my face, what do I believe? I believe a Mother's Love is strong enough to Transcend all Space and Time, and even physical death of the vessel which serves as a Living Temple of that Soul. Of that Eternal Love.

I was taught that Spirit can perch upon living creatures, such as birds, butterflies, and other little creatures, and deliver us messages. Messages of Comfort. Presence. Companionship. Encouragement. Hope. Love. And the more we recognize, acknowledge and affirm these encounters, with Humility and Gratitude, they occur more and more frequently. I am a living testament to this belief. Forever grateful too... 

So I entered the elevator by myself and rode up in Reflective Silence, but feeling elated at the three-way conversation I just had with two Beautiful neighbors, replaying the conversation in my mind, over and over.

As soon as the door opened on my floor, I stepped out and immediately stopped in my tracks. As I gazed upon a single white feather with a Beautiful fringed tip of iridescent green. Right there. Same spot on the carpet. Same elevator of three I could have chosen. Just like a few weeks earlier. Déjà vu...

I bent down and gratefully and gingerly picked up my treasure and brought it inside my home to put it with the other feathers. Thank you Ancestors. Thank you Spirit Guides. Thank you 'Aumakua. Thank you Grandmother. Thank you Guardian Angels. And Most of All.  Thank you Ke Akua... Humbled and Blessed... Grateful for this Life and These Lessons...