Bloodline

A box arrives in the mail. Signed off, he returns to his apartment. His mother's name and address are scratched over some other lettering from the past. Clear tape is visible all around the entire box from edge to edge. He stares at it, no energy to really open and see the contents.

Later that night, his girlfriend arrives at their apartment. While setting her stuff down on the table she sees the box, and asked why not just open it. He stares off into the distance. He hears her, but doesn't really make a move to reply back, as if something were holding his speech from being announced.

His mind drifts into a vision. The walls tear themselves apart and the ceiling peels itself away, similar to a child ripping gift wrap from a gift. The ground drops out beneath him and he levitates in the same state of mind, floating in thin air posed as if he were sitting at an open camp fire in the middle of the woods. Concentrated on a thought with no explanation yet as to what it is, the environment begins to give way to fauna and lush plants to which resemble an island jungle scene. Palm trees blow to a wind unfelt to him for a moment. Then the smell of an ocean tide hints at home. He was home. He was there. Gravitating towards the environment that now speaks, he walks and closes in on the journey in his mind. The sound of birds hum in the wind as speech and laughter lightly break the beat of the soothing sound of nature. From the sound of the language, he's definitely back home, no one understands da Pidgin language like a local would. Squinting into the leaves of the over growth, a vision appears. A woman.

His girlfriend, now, snapping her fingers in front of him, whispers out in low tone almost unheard to him, ringing louder, as he is awaken from his soft daydream. She asks if everything is ok, and he replies with a nod to agree along with a smile to calm the nerves a bit for each other.

While having dinner, he explains to her about his past and how eventually that box will need to be opened. She is uninterested in his story, but she hears him, while still gazing through a movie selection to watch. he gets up and takes to box to the bedroom and lets it sit there for 3 days.

While cleaning up his side of the room, he sees the box, and stops to stare at it amongst the mess being organized. He drifts into another vision, this time of his Father. He sits there in a truck that was gone through war and back, but yet still runs like a 30 year old man who believes he is still 15. Yellowed out, and slightly rusted with 22 years of life and still breathing on four wheels that had only been changed out less times than the numbah of fingers on a hand. Yeah, it still kicks and it still does the jobs. The Father of his is of the same. Still kicking no matter how many times life through a hardball, he still caught it and ran up to life and told it, try again, usually followed up with a smile and a half roll of the eyes.

Sitting with his Father in the truck, he tells him of a background unknown to others in the family of families. Island life gives you your ohana, your family, however it makes you a part of everyone else's as well. His family, is a bit different. His Father speaks about how the land is ohana, the grounds we walk, the air we breathe, the nature we touch, the voices we hear and speak, to the roots to gave life to it all from the clouds that grace a heaven, mountains that stair case to the valleys, which roam with vast fields to which trail outward to the sands, and with open hands gathers and hugs the oceans. He rolls his eyes, however his Father speaks truth. Value is not of manmade substance, but nature born and bred minerals. The grounds, the land, the Aina, is our value. A value built from our Ancestors of times long ago. From them, higher entities to which artistry was at its finest crafting nature to their degrees of skill, talent, and heart. The Spirit lives with them, within them, through them, and now through us. Build with that Spirit, live in balance with the Spirit, share with others the Spirit. This is our value, this is what we have, in our Bloodline. Sell not to gain a value, sell only to share value. Knowledge is value. This truth I speak to you. Remember where you come from, remember your bloodline, remember your birthright. Never let the outside world consume you or your value. Never let it take your Spirit.

Drifting away from the vision, he finds himself sitting in his room with a strict look of concentration and compassion for his memory, and towards what he needs to do. Reaching out for the box that laid awaiting to reveal answers to his questions, he takes a simple breathe, and opens it.

Lightly slashing the sides, hoping not to cut what contents might be awaiting his revealing, he lifts the top of the box off. Inside he finds a giant binder containing paperwork and a book that lays directly on top from the Ali'i Schools of the Islands. The binder is of his Genealogy, his bloodline. The book is very identical, because he had it already. However it was his Father's book he had and sifted from the rubble of stuff to be thrown after his ascension from this lifetime. This one mailed to him, however, was actually his own. His Father sent it to him from 1992, and it had already been 27 years since that time. The cover was a photocopied paper with a picture of his Grandparents. Inside the front cover flap was a letter.

The letter reads," Enclosed you will find the album of the Ohana. As you should know that this is my family genealogy and this is for you to keep. Should any question come up about your Ohana on my side this should answer it and how you acquired your bloodline".

With a bit more info here and there about other non essential items at the moment, and events, the letter ends with, Aloha, Your Father.

Sitting back, decompressing from the info, he gathers his emotions and stands up to stretch, not just the body, his mind as well. Now knowing his proof of roots, his blood of bloods, he stands staring out the window in realization of the now know truth. Understanding now why he is different, why he feels different, every day of his life. Why fitting in never was a fit for him. From multiple schools, college, and all history of jobs in between. Even understanding the role of being a bastard's son now and running through multiple seasons for a throne that in the end was just not worth having as a final touch through the journey.

Understanding now where his roots lead, where his journey begins, and where his bloodline starts, he can now.....continue. A new chapter awaits

Note from the writer: I hope you enjoyed this bit of a journey about myself. This was written intended for those who feel lost, who feel broken, and abandoned, and unknown to their roots of who they are and where they come from. We all come from somewhere. Some we are born on this planet. Some are born from another star, then crash landing on this planet. Doesn't matter. You are still important. You matter. Search out there for you, ask, write notes to yourself to ask your future self to come back to and remind yourself to search it and seek out you. Seek out yourself. Define you, teach you, upgrade you.

We all have some extraordinary life we are living. Share it out there to those who want to learn, and want to learn about you.

Remembah brah, you mattah.

Mahalō,

iamKAIEA