The Parliament of Ferns, Part 3

The Ferns Speak

Photo by John Salzarulo on Unsplash

Aloha Dear Readers,

This week with Part 3 finishes “The Parliament of Ferns” for now…..I’m sure the ferns have much more to say and if they are willing I deem myself worthy to receive and share their messages. Emotional intelligence is the key to navigating the global shift into cosmic awareness. Without it we are most likely going to repeat our past patterns.

If you haven’t read Parts 1 and 2 the links are here:

The Parliament of Ferns, Part 1

The Parliament of Ferns, Part 2

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think in the comments!

The Ferns Speak, Part II

‘Ohia Lehua/ Divine Emotional Pain

I am ‘Ohia Lehua, the mother of all ferns. I am the first to root when lava cools and hardens. My red blossoms unfurl from gnarled branches. I break down the knife-edged rock waves into soil.

The path to aloha begins with pain. You may find that confusing. I may scare you. In the future, if you have lost the ability to feel know that sensation is a gift. I am the birth canal, the bloody route to being.

Drink from me like the curve-beaked i’iwi and learn: at the center of pain, how sweet the nectar.

Waikau/ Divine Emotional Courage

I am Waikau, a woman who lies down with a pride of lions to rest in the day’s heat in preparation for the night’s hunt.

My message is simple and is carried in the syllables of my name in English, derived from French-coeur-heart. When growth scares you hear me roar:  pa wale pu’i ai. “Open your heart wider.”

Laukahi Hou/ Divine Emotional Compassion

I am Laukahi Hou, a raging mother soothing her inner child, a mirror that doesn’t break when shown the ugly truth. I reveal innocence only.

I am here to show you the primary law of the universe, known in Jen’s time as “The Golden Rule.” Do No Harm. This means you first. Attend to your own suffering. From there you can extend compassion to others.

‘Ihi’ihilauakea/ Divine Emotional Serenity

I am ‘ihi’ihilauakea, a doe in a forest clearing aware of light’s grace filigreed by ferns filtered by the canopy.

I am quiet, easy to overlook. I can be lost in busyness, which is why I most often reveal myself when you’re alone. Who am I? Awareness of your own contentment. The more you welcome me consciously, the more I show up.

Lā’au/ Divine Emotional Remedy

I am Lā’au, a paralyzed man who learns to paint by holding a brush between his teeth.

I am resilience.

I have three parts: acceptance, recovery, adaptation. Do not wallow in resentment, guilt or shame. The survival of a species relies on its ability to adapt.

Hō’i’ō Kula/ Divine Emotional Rest

I am Hõ’i’o Kula, a chief inhaling steam in a sweat lodge on the eve of battle. A priestess asleep in an asclepeion. A surgeon napping on a gurney outside the operating theater.

I am the key to discernment.

‘Iwa’iwa Noa/ Divine Emotional Liberation

I am ‘Iwa’iwa Noa, Tolstoy at 82 walking away from his home and wife of 48 years to die among strangers in a train station. Inanna entering the Underworld naked after being stripped of  her royal regalia.

As Hart and Kaufman, American playwrights of Jen’s time said, “You can’t take it with you."

Not many pass willingly through my gate, but I can’t be avoided. Liberation is the completion of all roles, identities and attachments.

Pe’ahi/Divine Emotional Chaos

I am Pe’ahi, a skateboarder zipping through stalled traffic, a virus collapsing a stagnant civilization. A big wave surfer towed in knowing she could die.

Most people resist me, but my waves can be ridden, though ultimately even my ecstasy must be relinquished. Even though being in form you’ll ultimately fail, embrace as much instability as you can. Even though you’ll never see me with eyes or touch me with hands, hear my true voice and not this echo, taste my primordial flavor or catch a whiff of me, I am your mother. Let the ship go down.

Anali’i/ Divine Emotional Faith

I am Anali’i, a child raised by a village, welcome through every doorway.

I am safety, the access to affirming the sacred. I open up the space to allow sacredness to expand on breath grounded in Earth’s body.

La’akea lama/Divine Emotional Magic

I am La’akea lama, the alchemist. The centaur Chiron, wounded by a poisoned arrow, healing on the mountainside. I chant and whirl with Rumi, “the wound is where the light enters,” and I turn lead to gold like Leonard Cohen singing, “Ring the bells that still can ring/ Forget your perfect offering/ There is a crack in everything/ That’s how the light gets in.”

Be patient. Begin slowly. It can be harrowing to recognize your poison as your medicine. There will be no one to blame. You must take accountability for your unresolved trauma. Inadequacy will cease. You will deem yourself worthy. In the chrysalis you will finally meet the poison as a friend and emerge as the butterfly.

Ka’ape’ape/ Divine Emotional Grace

I am Ka’ape’ape, a wind lifting winged milkweed seeds, a river carrying an offering of flowers to the sea.

I support the movement of a prayer. Call on me as you create. I will ensure your structures are mutable, ever-responsive as the river to the shifting bank.

Māku’e Lau Li’i/ Divine Emotional Simplicity

I am Māku’e Lau Li’i, a man greeting the sun each day as it rises.

My teaching is to fold the non-essential. Focus on what allows you to enjoy, express or acknowledge your placement in your world.

Nauā/ Divine Emotional Tenderness

I am Nauā, a monk crossing enemy lines to offer food to a famished army.

In Jen’s time there was a famous song by The Rolling Stones called “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” that advised “If you try sometimes, you’ll get what you need.”

I teach how to soften in order to relax into contrasts. Then you can negotiate.

Palai Hinahina/Divine Emotional Grief

I am Palai Hinahina, a father watching a ship sail over the horizon accepting his son will never return.

In Jen’s time many confused me with loss. I was avoided. Stagnation was the result. Trauma birthed more trauma.

I move loss in order to complete it so the next incarnations can express with authenticity, unburdened by ancestral trauma.

Kīlau Pueo/Divine Emotional Ruin

I am Kīlau Pueo: the cancer diagnosis, the fentanyl overdose, the tsunami.

I understand why you want to avoid me, but sometimes I am the only one who can reach you. I am the one who collapses your world when you are frozen; the force that awakens you when nothing else can.

Ama’u/Divine Ego

I am ‘Ama’u, Martin Luther King the night before he was shot preaching: “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will…I may not get there with you.”

Jen integrated my lesson when she abandoned the first draft of this attempt to get us on the ark. She understood that her motivation was not sharing pua’aehuehu, but to get her words on the ark. In making herself vulnerable by publicly admitting this, she also integrated Pa ‘iwa’iwa/ Truth and became a more authentic human being. Once she revealed her motivations were not to be of service, but to gain attention, she had compassion (Laukahi Hou) for the part of her who longed for approval, releasing shame in order to receive a truly innovative idea, this parlement, this kukakuka, as the Hawaiians say. In so doing she showed us her embodiment of Kalamoho Lau Li’i/Divine Emotional Innovation.

Like us, Jen volunteered to be of service. For her willingness to be exposed in this process, we thank her, and acknowledge her devotion to expansion. We thank her for the poems, for keeping language alive in a time when it was weaponized against humanity to subdue and divide. We don’t know her fate or ours, but together we will go on programming the future with the principles of aloha. The codes of love. We finish with these words created by rock over water, air through bamboo, breath through organs and bone,

Kō aloha lā ea: Concentrate on love by way of the light,

Pua’aehuehu, The Ferns & Jen Lighty

Note: The path to aloha is non-linear and we have shared ourselves in no particular order.

Note: If in the future the worldwide web has not gone the way of the fabled Library of Alexandria, more of our teachings are shared on Ke’oni Hanalei’s website: www.pohala.net. If the virtual web is gone, look for the organic webs. Spiders were the ones who first taught humans how to write. Maybe you’ll see gold spores caught in silk filaments forming patterns and symbols, the language of the Creator. Maybe you will be the one to re-weave the broken strands with your aloha.