In hot pursuit of a desk and chair to complete my room--and allow me to set up shop--I ventured out onto the island alone. Both housemates had other commitments, so after dropping them off at their respective locales and armed with detailed directions, I set forth. Never mind that I had never been where I was going, couldn't pronounce most of the highway and street names (Puunene, Mokulele, Mikioi, Hoala), and was running behind schedule to meet the desk/chair owner. This was my first solo run on the island and I wasn't going to miss it!  Balancing sparkling ocean, radiant sky and island flora with attention to directions, I laughed out loud. This wasn't about finding a desk! This was about living on Maui! There are dozens of other desks on the island, I told myself, but only one first solo cruise around my new home!

After almost half-an-hour, I got a little rattled.It seemed I'd gone too far and that the island might be coming to an end any minute. I pulled over and called the hopeful seller. Between his Norwegian accent and my inability to pronounce the name of the current cross street, we made no directional progress. I decided to press on, my island glow dimming just a bit as I searched for a place to get help. Ah! An elementary school! A nice woman inside the cafeteria had no trouble directing me to "Maui Meadows." I'd been on the right track all along!

Resuming my earlier confidence, I put the key in the ignition and had a big surprise. It didn't start. It didn't even try. Or click. I couldn't roll down the windows and suddenly the fact that I was wearing jeans on the hot side of the island seemed like one of the poorer choices I'd made in recent history. Surely there's some little gimmick, I told myself and tried multiple times before getting creative: pushing little buttons that I probably had no business pushing. I didn't have Linda's number (the owner of the car) and I called Karren Louise's cell even though I knew she was in the midst of a sacred gathering and couldn't answer. I also called the desk guy back and was temporarily heartened by his certainty that if I put my foot on the brake and tried to start it, it would. Except it didn't.

It was time to panic, but something else happened instead. I remembered my recent experiences with "everything I have is right here right now." That meant letting go of the desk, the chair, tow truck thoughts, and any frantic plan for getting back home. Instead I turned my attention to one thing: "What's next?"  I remembered I had the card of an island-living facilitator in my purse, and knowing she would have Linda's number, called and left a message. "What's next?" I remembered that I had the number of the CEO of The Peaceful Woman in my cell. I called and left a message. "Next?" I stepped out of the car, got some shade and took in the beauty around me. 

I kept asking the question and here's how it went: flagging down a young man who was backing out his car in the parking lot (with his wife, kids and a bird); getting his diagnosis(battery); his suggestion to see if the office had a jump-start pack (no); his help polling people for jump starters (none); I thanked him for his help, urged him on his way (the bird needed to get home), and waited for the next step. Three teachers leaving for the day (no jump starters) but directed me to the janitor's quarters (closed) The guy sitting in front of it walkie-talkied to the janitor (had a jumper pack); dashed into the literal little girl's room, and then met them in the parking lot. Vrrrrummm! Started right up!

And because the young man who showed me such Aloha also reminded me not to turn the car off until I got home, I was back in Haiku an hour later with a desk and a chair. "It's the only thing we haven't sold," the owner had told me upon arrival. "It must be supposed for you."

Beyond the furniture, what was "supposed for me" was making room for myself on the island in a whole different way--by partnering with the Universe through the people around me, to receive exactly what I needed right here right now. Never mind that the desk didn't quite fit through my bedroom door. I had my question ready: "What's next?"

Coming up next: A Slice of Maui Life

Together on the Evolving Path,