4:47 AM. No alarm needed.
First morning back at Tavola, and the jungle orchestra has already claimed me. Parrotfinches, shrikebills, the Kula’s distinctive call—then that rooster across the valley asserting his dawn dominion. My body knows this symphony. Every cell remembers.
I’ve been away too long.
In Fijian, “vanua” means so much more than land. It expresses the sacred interconnectedness between nature, society, and spirit. The interdependent relationship that Western minds struggle to grasp but island souls live without question.
Vanua doesn’t recognize separation. Neither does this place.
Standing here on Vanua Levu’s shore, coffee warming my hands, I’m not observing paradise—I’m dissolving into it. This is what coming home to Tavola does. It doesn’t welcome you back. It reminds you that you never really left. That the separation was only in your mind.
The busy-ness I carried from Colorado? Gone. The mental lists, the strategic planning, the constant optimization—all swept away by trade winds that know better. Here in this vortex, time moves like honey. Yet somehow, everything that matters happens instantly.
This is the Quantum Surfing truth made tangible: We think we’re separate beings moving through the world. But we’re not. We’re the world expressing itself as us.
The birds know. The jungle knows. This morning, wrapped in Vanua Levu’s wild grace, I remember too.
Seven years of being Tavola’s guardian, and still she teaches me: True power isn’t what you build. It’s what you allow yourself to become when you stop pretending you’re separate from the magic.
Back in the vortex. Back in the truth. Home. 🌴✨
What calls you back to wholeness?