In August of 1985, I rented my first home on the island of Maui. As we drove down a bumpy dirt road toward the stunning blue Pacific, I was struck by a sign that said Door of Faith Church. Energy tingled through my entire body as I realized I was opening that door, the door of faith, on this magical island thousands of miles from the US mainland.

Recently I received the final payment from the sale of the beautiful ocean-view temple home and property I developed and built in 1987 on Door of Faith Road. It has been ten years since I said Aloha to my precious home with its 50 coconut palms on three acres. I truly gave birth to a vision of living on a luscious tropical island in paradise.

I taught many, many workshops at Hale Akua Garden Farm Retreat Center near my home on Door of Faith Road… the last one over a decade ago. I’m ready for completion and closure with the Door of Faith, so I am returning to Hale Akua one last time to bring it all full circle with a women’s sexual awakening and healing retreat this April. This will be my final scheduled Maui workshop as I’ll be moving to Central America shortly after this retreat.

Hale Akua means House of the Divine. It’s no mistake that so many lives have been transformed here, where the tropical trade winds blow away that which no longer serves you and the energies of Mama Maui infuse you with love, joy, beauty, pleasure, and truth. It’s the ultimate blessing, to live for a week in the perfection of nature… warm, moist, and nurturing to the very core of your soul. In this place, I have witnessed more miracles than I can recount.

To this day, I still hear from students who participated in one of the many weeklong retreats I had the privilege of teaching at Hale Akua. Were you one of them? I would love to hear about your Hale Akua experience in the comments below.

Aloha… it means hello, goodbye, and I love you.

Aloha, Caroline

PS. Please, my darling… please do not let this opportunity pass you by. It’s likely the last time I travel back to Maui to sit in sadhana with you and share my wisdom. There’s an early-bird rate available through the end of January.

 

Six months of planning! Growing out my hair, longer than it’s been in 25 years. Finding a local photographer for a photo shoot so I would have new pictures to show you on Facebook and on my website. Choosing the perfect days… the perfect weather… for perfect outdoor pictures…. The perfect yet vulnerable divinely feminine me!

I say vulnerable as I mused How many more times will I do photo shoots in this career and lifetime? Can they photoshop some of the sun damage on my arms and legs? Oh yeah, just wear long sleeves even if it is 100 degrees in the sun (duh). Self-doubt is common, I know, whether young and lacking in confidence or aging and not wanting certain things to show up in the photos! I caught myself in every trap that I help women avoid – always aware of walking my talk.

The alarm on my iPhone softly beams me up at 5:00 a.m. with the hair dryer shaping my long tresses… while I carefully apply a natural look in the oval mirror as dawn creeps in the window behind my dressing table offering warm morning light. Oh, the taste of my Maui coffee while I watch my sweetheart purr softly under the light covers in the pink dawn. I feel like a leading lady on the set getting ready for the director and cameraman to arrive…. all eyes on me, Queen for a Day!

I dress and grab a few extra tops for the morning shoot, following the photographer in my car as his truck winds up through the Sierras on its way to a meadow in Hope Valley (how appropriate the name) where we will carry and schlep everything to a variety of yummy spots near rushing streams of fresh snow melt. He has multiple pieces of equipment hanging from his strong shoulders while I gracefully pack in my beauty bag filled with the accouterments of the feminine plus water and snacks.

The now-hot sun lights up my inner glow. The nascent green grasses blow softly in the high mountain air. By now I couldn’t care less how my hair looks or what I’m wearing… I just know I am in God’s country where the Goddess feeds my soul. Camera… where? Pose… how? I just want to cry it’s so beautiful, and after many blinks of tearing eyes, the morning progresses with click after click of the camera and the Goddess dancing together in the high mountain meadow.

It took me about 3 days to come down from that leading role! Remembering that my teaching and my healing work are the nuts and bolts of my career, I can now step up to embrace the many testimonials of me and my work… the very core of my assignment as the founder of Divine Feminine Awakening for women and couples who are drawn to deeper love and pleasure.

An aside: I made sure I was photographed without a smile, compassionately listening to his girlfriend tell me her childhood story of violation and abuse, as that is my true nature. I listen to you with the same heart full of caring because I know your story is your doorway to freedom.

See you soon… let’s talk,

Big Love, Caroline

Sweet Summertime Immersion Special
for Women and Couples

Take your relationship (or your divinely feminine self) to the next level – 3 days with me in a private immersion!

$500 off when you book by July 15th and schedule in 2017. Please fill out a Discovery Session Application and we will discuss investment and other details by phone or Skype.

 

By Caroline Muir

broken glassThe Divine works in ways I will never understand, but the following true account made me a believer forevermore.

The plush carpeting in my home stopped at the entry to the dining room where the floor had been redone and covered with cream marble tiles that my friends acquired in a “great deal” and shipped to Maui from Bali. It created a kitchen and dining room floor one could nearly see herself in as the stone was polished to a clear shine.

During an event in my home, the forty-two inch round glass coffee table was moved out of the living room and placed safely between the dining table and the sliding glass doors that had a great view of the Pacific Ocean.

The carved wooden sea horses that supported the glass top were perched in their familiar grouping along with couches and chairs that lined the perimeter of the grand living room, minus their glass top.

After the event ended, my friends offered to move the furniture back and I tiredly commented, “Let’s do it in the morning!” Off they went in the tropical night air while I felt the delicious emptiness of the house once the thirty-eight guests happily strolled or drove home from the lovely Puja ceremony. Slipping into a soft cotton night-gown, I strolled through the dining room to close the sliding glass doors from the ever-present trade winds, feeling the cool marble under foot. Somehow, I lost my balance and fell backwards, unable to stop my descent directly down into the center of the low glass  table.

The crash of breaking glass resounded throughout the night. I found myself tightly nestled within shards of sharply pointed glass, instantly realizing that any move on my part to escape any deep and dangerous cuts meant that I must freeze into stillness. And so I did. Gazing around at the impossible situation I found myself in, I yelled many “Help” cries into the silent night. Soon I realized that I was trapped in what appeared to be crystals of lethal beauty.

Now was the time to go deep inside. My panicked heavy breathing would do me no good. No one was near and no one would hear my cries. I closed my eyes. I spoke with God/Goddess and handed my situation over to All- That-Is. Years of meditation practice served me well, as I was able to empty my mind of the helpless fear that could have consumed me and for some moments… did.

It seemed as though I slept, so deep was my stillness. I definitely went unconscious and left my body in its trapped ocean of terminal beauty.

And then what happened, you may ask?

Perhaps a full hour passed. My next conscious moment was finding myself standing upright on the carpeted floor, a good six feet from my glass cocoon. I felt my skin, looked around at the darkened house, listened carefully for the sound of my breathing, wiggled my toes into the plush cream beneath my feet, and looked over my shoulder at where I had been in utter disbelief. At that moment, however… I believed.

A ‘miracle’ such as this humbled me to my knees. I couldn’t move once again, though now I was surrounded only by the soft night air. I decided to tuck this story deep within me so as not to deflate the feeling that a miracle of sorts had just saved my life.

Slowly, I stood upright and very deliberately walked to the other sliding glass doors, closing them against the cool nightly trades. Humbly gliding toward my bed, I slid between my sheets and lay my head upon my pillow, as if I were an angel resting from the days’ tasks, tired yet wired. I eventually drifted into slumber, knowing that I would never be quite the same again. Perhaps miracles happen every day, but this was an evening of great magnitude for me. I was saved… I was still needed… I was loved. My connection to the Divine was and always will be… a Miracle.