Lioness Healing

I woke up this morning to the news that 1-year-old Kohen Wiley was killed by police.
A fu***ng baby.
A baby who should be here learning new words, making messes, and being held by people who love him. Instead, we are saying his name because police opened fire over allegations involving diapers.
The news hit me like a punch to the chest and instantly took me back to the months my son and I spent organizing weekly sign waves after George Floyd was murdered. I remember him asking me, “Mama, how do I not get killed by the police?” No child should ever have to ask that question.I checked in with him today, and we cried together. Moments like this make me want to hold him forever. We talked about Kohen. We talked about Gaza. We talked about the thousands of babies whose names the world will never know because there are simply too many dead children to keep track of.
And I am fu***ng tired.
I spend my life advocating. Twenty-four hours a day. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year. For people being crushed by systems that were never built for them to survive. I stay informed. I show up. I organize. I educate. I try to carry hope. Today I cried between every massage client. I talked about it with them. I am not masking. I am not pretending. I am not performing wellness today.
I am angry.When does it stop? When do we stop murdering Black babies? When do we stop murdering children? When do we stop treating oppressed people as disposable?My son said to me today, “Mama, go back to the streets and say it out loud. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”
So I will.I’ve had many conversations recently about anti-Pōpolo sentiment here in Hawaiʻi, and I will continue to have those conversations. Because we see this pattern over and over again: oppressed people are taught to fear, hate, and harm other oppressed people. Colonialism teaches us to punch sideways instead of upward. White supremacy depends on it.I am here to disrupt that. I am here to challenge that. CONT IN COMMENTS 👇🏽

The first slide is a JOKE and hopefully gets you to swipe cuz the algorithm sucks and it’s my trickster energy and my beloved Santos feast day.

Just a reminder: I am not anti-Jewish, and frankly, I am tired of being accused of that.

I am anti-Zionist. I oppose the actions and policies of the State of Israel. Those are not the same thing, no matter how many times people try to conflate them.

I love and respect many Jewish people in my life, and I have seen countless Jewish voices speak out against the atrocities being committed in Gaza and throughout Palestine. Criticizing a government, an occupation, or a political ideology is not the same as hating an entire people.

Please stop weaponizing that accusation to shut down legitimate criticism and conversations about human rights.

🇵🇸 🇪🇭 🇨🇩❤️ … apparently im only allowed 5 hashtags so FREE EM ALL

I keep wanting to delete this platform but, as Bob Marley said, « I’ve got so much things to say right now. »It’s voting season and everybody is sounding real good.
Liberals. Democrats. Republicans. Greens.But the thing I keep seeing missed is simple:

FREE ‘EM ALL.

If your vision of justice doesn’t include the people living outside, struggling with addiction, carrying trauma, surviving poverty, incarceration, and systemic violence, then your words are just words.
No one is free until we are all free.
And honestly? I’m tired.It is exhausting as a BIPOC person to constantly be the one holding people accountable. To repeatedly point out harm. To be labeled difficult, angry, militant, radical, confrontational, or « too much » simply because you refuse to stay quiet.People love justice until justice asks something of them.
People love revolutionaries until those revolutionaries start challenging their organizations, political parties, friends, and communities.
There is a real cost to being someone who takes no s**t. You lose relationships. You get misunderstood. You become the problem in people’s stories because it’s easier than confronting the actual problem.
But silence has never liberated anyone.
I don’t care what party you belong to. If I have witnessed harm being done to the people I serve, I am going to speak on it.

Every. Single. Time.

Until every last one of us is free, none of us are free.

New moon in Ta**us musings…❤️🐃

I can’t do the hard work alone!! I am not usually a TGIF gal, but this week I am. Last week was hard and had me questioning my ability, my beliefs, and myself. I leaned really hard on my people. And I donʻt take that for granted even for a moment. I have people tell me all the time that the work I do is so amazing and ask how I do it. Thatʻs so nice of them to say, but the truth is that I have a whole life full of people who hold me up & support me and keep me able to purposely out myself in hard situations. I have the capacity to choose to do hard things because I am helped and loved and cared for. Being held and cared for allows me to hold and love and care for others. Iʻm only doing for others what is done for me. Just loving and loving and loving and showing up!!!! I am part of a web, a force in an ecosystem, both a giver and a receiver of good and beautiful things. My capacity to give is fundamentally intertwined with my capacity to receive! I hope you too let yourself be held! ❤️🐃

45✨🌱

I know birthdays aren’t everyone’s thing… some people like to move quietly through them, pretend it’s just another day, maybe even hide a little. I love that for you—but I am not that person.

I believe we should absolutely be celebrated on the day we were born. Fully. Loudly. Intentionally. Because the truth is, being here is no small thing. Making it through another year—with all its beauty, grief, growth, and grit—is something sacred. And sacred things deserve acknowledgment.

Birthdays, for me, are spiritual.

They are a crossing. A threshold. A moment where I get to stand still long enough to feel the weight and wonder of my own life. To honor every version of me that made it here—the soft one, the fierce one, the broken one, the healing one. All of her.

And listen… if there’s ever a day to let people love on you, gas you up, feed you good food, and remind you who you are—it’s this one. I didn’t come this far to act humble about surviving and thriving. Celebrate me. Expeditiously.

45 feels different.

I feel rooted. Clear. Less attached to what was never mine, and more devoted to what is—my purpose, my people, my gifts. I understand now that my life is something I tend to, something alive and holy. And I’m doing that with more intention than ever.

I honor my hands and my heart. The ways I’ve been called to heal, to hold, to show up. I honor the lessons that shaped me and the ancestors that walk with me. I honor the joy that still finds me—and the joy I choose, again and again.

So yes… I will celebrate. I will receive. I will take up space in my own life.

Because I am here. And that matters.

Happy Birthday to me.

There are moments in this work that feel like pure alignment.

For the past month, I’ve been working with a kupuna living with Parkinson’s. In our recent sessions, something profound has been happening—each time my hands rest gently at his occipital ridge, the tremors in his body soften… and then stop. For the entirety of our time together, there is stillness.

The relief it brings him is immediate. The peace that settles into his body is something you can feel in the room. And the joy it brings me… it’s hard to put into words.

It reminds me that my greatest gifts in this life, in this dimension, are my hands and my heart. To be able to offer care in this way, to witness the body remember ease, even for a moment—it is an honor I don’t take lightly.

Today was a good day. Deeply grateful to do this work, to be trusted with people’s bodies, their stories, their healing.

Holding it all with so much aloha. 💚✨