The Waterfall Cabin

I’m on a turmeric farm in Hilo. It’s almost a year since my first of four visits to the island. Hawaii feels like a lucid dream. When I’m here I’m so present, aware, relaxed, and open. The air feels especially light and my breath is at ease.

Except that moment I’m waiting for important news about our produce delivery, due to a broken down truck, and my heart starts racing. I start thinking about how I’m stuck on an island and can’t be helpful.

And then, I put the phone down, and walk straight across the grass 20 feet away, past the tiny purple flowers, and down to the waterfall.

I come back to the phone, only after I’ve let go and immersed myself in the safety of the river. The sounds of the mini waterfall, and the lusciousness that surrounds me.

My computer is plugged into the wall, like old times, because it’s an EMF free zone. Maybe it’s one of the ingredients that helps me breathe better here and relax through every intense business moment.

There’s something missing for me though, no matter how much I fully appreciate this. No matter how much I feel supported, safe, and truly healthy in this environment. Not to mention finally able to tan my skin without burning it.

My veggies.

I am so acclimated to our SoCal produce from the best growers. My cells, my breath, my whole body, feels different without those greens. There’s appreciation for them, and then there’s the moment of realization that it’s my life giving energy source. Surely, there’s a solution for this.

Locavore is a cute little store in town, just 20 minutes from the farm, and they have some lovely little bags of kale and bok choy. Abundant life is a block down, and that’s where I pick up fresh hearts of palm for the first time.

Palm to heart, I carry my little ingredients back to the waterfall cabin, then decide to bring everything to the commercial kitchen. I forage some Hawaii spinach on the farm.

The Hawaii spinach isn’t very flavorful, but it has a very interesting element, which is that it resembles okra. The sliminess in the leaf, is not too much but it’s just enough to give the soup a little bit of thickness. Instead of paying for a bag of arrowroot powder, to which I’ll never finish, I got to forage just a few leaves. And since the flavor isn’t amazing, but it’s not bad, pretty neutral, I just used a little bit.

As incredible as these big beautiful leaves are, I still miss my California greens.

The next day, my Garden Gnome magically arrives from California with Spigarello and carrots! We snack on veggies while we watch the sun set on the beach. Aside from the unfortunate cruise ship in the way, the scene was gorgeous! The flavor of the carrots are genuinely, my little essence of heart warming happiness, and he knows it. The next morning, we have breakfast with left over soup, hibiscus kombucha, and some California treats.

The night before, I had danced next to a unicorn, and played with a light up Hoola hoop. Things were looking up. They were already up, but once I have my greens in me, I feel my cells doing their own unicorn hoop dance.

I feel the grass, the turmeric in my blood, the flowers, the spider webs, the chicken that knocks at my door, the gecko hiding in funny places, the waterfall, the smiles, the weight of the world, the lightness, the sun, my breath.

And I helped harvest Kali Haldi Turmeric, or black turmeric. It’s a highly medicinal, rare find, that is actually florescent blue. As vibrant as can be.

In the end of it all with lots of love and rainbows. I shared a shiitake and purple potato soup with red turmeric and kaffir lime, for all of us.

I’ll be back again soon! To be continued…..