I recently participated in a grueling 3-day tradeshow. It was an experience I am not likely to replicate, but there were a few bright spots.

On the third day, Keanu (hubby) surprised me by purchasing a 10-minute Ho’opono Healing Massage for me. I don’t think of myself as a “massage person”. I don’t have many aches/pains, and honestly feel a bit guilty about receiving massage because I don’t like giving them.

I had been standing on concrete for three days and when asked where my pain was I said my feet and maybe my lower back (I really didn’t have much pain, but they asked).

When I lay down on the table, my right foot cramped, so I asked the masseuse to pull on my toes to make it stop. He proceeded to really DIG into the soles of my feet.

Eleven years ago this month I first stepped foot on the island of O'ahu. Back then I knew next-to-nothing about the Hawaiian Islands. I had lived my entire life in Wisconsin. My trip to Hawai'i was meant to be a spiritual quest, to step foot in the Pacific Ocean, and to visit a friend in grad school. I had absolutely no intention of staying.