Posted by on Mar 7, 2013 in Blog | Comments Off on Aloha


I just got back home from Wanderlust, Oahu and after delving into a much-needed 10 hours of sleep, I’m beginning to feel awake enough to reflect upon the whole experience.  I’m not really sure where to start, so forgive me for the winding road and where it leads.

There was a long flight, a nearly missed connection, and finally a yawning green island greeted us with a double rainbow.  Seriously.  (I get that youtube dude now, truly.)  There was a beautiful beach with the clearest water I’ve ever seen.  A savasana in sea water, face to the sun, heart bursting, losing the sense of barriers between salt and self.  Shoes relegated to dark corners of a bright hotel room, a week of rooted connectedness, banyan trees showing us how it’s done.  Perched on the cliff watching a fleet of surfers lose themselves, quiet and still but for my hair which defiantly joined into the wild dance of waves and wind.

It was a week of joyful yoga, boundaries melting between students and teachers, friends and strangers, musicians and audience.  If ever a cup could be filled to overflow, it would be in Oahu.  Smiles, hugs, thanks and hellos.  I talked with surfers about letting go and awakening the non-thinking self.  I closed my eyes and joined dancing tribes, the tides, the ebb and flow sounds of DJ Drez and Michael Franti.  I held the danda (staff) and awakened some kind of primordial, elemental energy.  Drank some liquid courage and sang my heart out to karaoke.  Laughed as my body tossed and turned from one playful pose to the next on the soft grass with hundreds of other shining selves.  Met such inspired teachers who willingly shared so much of themselves in class or in conversation.  Looked proudly upon my red knees and bruised ribs from a cool morning spent on a surf board.  Felt the swell of gratitude to be gifted in life with such a good friend, a trusted soul, a kindred spirit.  Buzzed on a scooter along the North Shore; roosters, waterfalls, surfers, fruit stands, banyan trees, fast clouds and wind.  Always, the wind.

And all of it, every moment of it, a feeling of being a part.

Aloha means affection, compassion, peace.  Every one of us that was a part of this festival, this celebration, got to know what aloha feels like.  How fortunate for us to be able to get away, to feel what is possible when a group of people come together and truly share the love.  The good vibes linger, you leave feeling changed.  It’s so much harder to get back to “real life” and navigate the muddier waters, the busy schedules, the habits, the sleepless nights and needy days.  But there was a moment of clarity when both Jen and I agreed that it was time to turn our inspiration to action.  It’s one thing to see the rainbow.  We got to feel it.  We laughed out loud when we said it, but somehow the idea of the whole thing stuck with us: It’s time to be the rainbow.  Yes, my friends, it seems I may have finally turned the hippie corner.  I want to be the rainbow.  Roll your eyes to the skies if you must, but you have to agree that there are far worse things to aspire to.

In aloha,


All content by Lisa Veronese. Please do not publish or copy my material without my consent.