The other day, I died.

I was buried in the warm sand at Ho'okena beach, under a coconut tree.

And I've never felt more ALIVE.

Mana as strong as the ancestors who ate, swim and prayed here rushed through my body as I lay in my own grave. My hands pulsed as though they each held a piece of my own heart.

My lifeline was a bamboo tube that I breathed through. My lungs and body adjusted to the breathing in stages and phases of fear -- first there was a fear that I couldn't breathe, and then a fear that the sand on top of me was too heavy and I couldn't get out.

When I moved through the fear, I felt absolutely amazing. I felt snug in the deep silence of Being underground, with only the faint sound of lapping sea waves dancing in the back of my head.

I felt the peacefulness and TRUTH of being Alone in this Reality.

At first my thoughts bounced from one random thing to another and suddenly from dying I felt an incredible desire to BE ALIVE.

Like, really ALIVE.

I felt to live Life like I never have before.

I'm not sure how long I was buried, but I knew for certain when it was time to rise from the dead.

As I pushed my way out of my grave, I felt so strong.

In dying, I was Re-born.

And in my re-Birth I remembered my TRUE STRENGTH.

I didn't need to smile or engage with the outside world or anyone around who was watching me. For the first moments of this new Life, I left myself drop-into myself. No one else mattered, no one else was even there...

It was beautiful to die and be reborn in such a deep and profound ritual on the last day of the Intensive. And I am reminded that at any (and EVERY) moment we can die and be reborn. Every moment can be a clean slate, if we choose it...