First Come, First Serve

As I’d like to learn the language of where I am, I practice here. These days I reside in Hawaii so I’d like to share a Hawaiian word for the day.

Koena n.

1. Remainder, residue, remnant, surplus, scraps, leftovers, balance (in accounts), remains, ruins.
   • Ke koe koena, naʻu ia,
   • when leftovers remain, that’s for me.
2. A scratching, raking.

The early bird gets the worm, or in the warm tropical breeze found in Hawaii some sweet fruit.

In fact, I know this to be true, as a Hawaiian tenant I get to witness in my backyard. Take for example when I watched my first dragonfruit bloom, then gain her deep magenta hue. I was hoping to pick her when she was ripe, a perk I had eyes for as I started my garden. But to my blues, I found her gobbled up by a neighbor, some kind of lively bird. I was disappointed at first but in reflection I thought, “maybe it’s good to share.”

Months later I received a paper bag with mangoes on my doorstep. “From Lisa,” was written in red sharpie below the handle. Oh, my neighbor across the street! It was sweet even before it hit my lips and also where it lingers still, not in my stomach but in my heart. I went to pick some papaya from my garden in thanks. I washed the sugars that crystallized on its skins and left them on the couch in my courtyard to dry as time blared that I needed to get to work. When I got back from my shift that day this is the sight beholden:

The smell of the scene told me before my eyes did that the biggest, most ripe, appetizing papaya was gobbled up by a bird, a similarly lively one. I had to tilt my head back and laugh, my neighbors have good taste.

I couldn’t help but think, here again, it’s okay to share. I took the papayas into the house, and instead of throwing the half eaten fruit away, I cut off the part that was torn into, scraped out the seeds and had myself an afternoon snack. I smiled as the lesson deepened. It’s not only okay but it’s sweet to share.

I’ve been on the fence about sharing what matters to me online. I’ve been online since Xanga came out in middle school. That’s about 20 years! To MySpace, through Facebook, YouTube and beyond, sharing my experiences online has been my method, my process, where I’ve found solace — where I’ve also found disturbances. I’ve tussled with online presence and what that means for the present. I would question my sharing, I still do, but I am learning that sharing isn’t so ‘bad.’ In fact, it can be good. Rather than throw social media out with the bath water, I’m ready to cultivate it’s sweetness.

If I had shared the fruit right away, and not worried about it being cleaned up or “worthy of sharing,” Lisa and her family could’ve had a very sweet fruit. I am not displeasured by the lively bird having their bite. In fact, I had to laugh! I got to learn some valuable lessons on sharing! Especially, to act when the moment is ripe!

I can’t keep putting off my work here while I worry about my message landing the “right” way. There’s too much sweet fruit to be enjoyed, connections had, relationships shared. I’m here to be a messenger and I can’t keep being satisfied with posting a photo here and there! Otherwise, I’ll go another decade wondering — wandering. And so, the journey evolves onto this platform, humble beginnings and my most humble offering yet. Here I get to practice conjuring the gift of sharing and basking in creation with my neighbors, which includes you. Now this sounds like presence! Even though we’re here, online.

Along with unearthing and exposing what can feel cold at times, like not wanting to share, I hope we can continue to discover the sweetness of being here, our togetherness, and the warmth of knowing this in our hearts, ever so deeply. Here I encourage the pyro in you, safely. Here we remember the power in the softness of our fire, our light. And hey, soft lights collected can make a powerful illumination! Maybe you’ll enjoy meeting here at The Kiln.

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