June 12, 2025

Article highlights: 

• An unexpected road trip!
• Olga Island

A road trip happened suddenly and I find myself in the San Juan Islands between Seattle, WA and Vancouver, Canada.  I’d had the invite for some months, which included spending a week with a grandson and my oldest son before they left to drive the Alaska-Canadian Highway and I left to spend time with friends on Orcas Island.  It then included seeing my younger son and other family at the graduation of his step daughter from college in Washington State several weeks later.

What fun!  But I didn’t have funds for the trip and since I have a hard and fast rule about not putting things on my credit card that I can’t pay off right away, I waited to see what developed. 

I kept getting a clear nudge to go, so I felt hopeful and expectant that things might change.  At the very last minute they did!  You’ll remember my friend Kahuna Kalei who died in 2020?  Many of you knew her, too.  She made this trip possible all these years later, and so unexpectedly.  

Ten days ago I received an email from an airline I haven’t heard from in years — maybe their emails have been going to my spam folder?  This one was in my inbox and its subject seemed to indicate I had a LOT of air miles, which I didn’t, as far as I knew.

I called the airline and learned those miles had been transferred to me from Kalei in early 2020 sometime before she died and after I left her and Hawaii.  I have no memory of this transfer nor any conversation with her about it.

It was enough miles for this trip.  So I packed up and arranged for a month or two away and was quickly off, just in time to rendezvous with my son in the Seattle area.  After a week with family that included me going through an old storage and donating most of it, I now feel nourished in the way only family can offer and I feel so much lighter in the way that only divesting stuff can bring.  It was a terrific week.

Now, I’m writing to you in the beauty of a cool, misty island morning, listening to birdsong and the ferry’s horn sounding in the fog across the bay.  Shortly I’ll be picked up by one of you, dear readers.  Mary has been reading my weekly for some years now and we’ve become frequent pen pals.  She’s a delightful thinker and correspondent.  We’ll get to meet in person, have a cup of tea, get some groceries for me and maybe explore the island a little if the weather holds.  What a fun afternoon, right?

The photo today is from the ferry ride to the island. The quality of air, water and nature is so high in these islands; it’s a very special area.   I lived for 15 years on a neighboring island near here, many years ago now.  It’s one of the islands you see across the way, in the photo.  

It feels great to be back.  This part of the world is exceptionally beautiful, nurturing and healing.  I’m looking forward to a wonderful stay. 

More soon about this road trip, I’m sure, and much love until then,
X 💜 Mayet

June 5, 2025

Article highlights: 

• A truth that shocked me
• How it felt in me
• Where it led

I start today with a simple but confronting fact: as of 2024, the estimated percentage of white or Caucasian people in the world is around 16%. That’s right. Out of a global population of more than 8 billion (2024), white people are a clear minority.

Pause for a moment. Really take that in. It is a small number with the power to rock our world.

When I first tried to get a handle on this number, in the early ’80s I went to the library—where I struck out. I looked in encyclopedias and couldn’t find anything solid. I asked professors at the local university. No one seemed to know.

Twenty years ago, with a burgeoning World Wide Web at hand, I searched again. Figures were all over the place, ranging from 60% to 80% or more. There were no reliable sources, no consistent surveys, no conclusive percentages. Isn’t that odd? Isn’t it noticeable that there was no truth about this to be found?!!! Doesn’t that speak volumes in itself?

It’s only recently that I’ve found trustworthy estimates, and the figure hovers quite consistently between 15% and 17%. Some surveys suggest even lower.

How did I get started down this path in the first place? It was in fifth or sixth grade, in geography class. I’d look at maps of the world, learning about Asia, Africa, Latin America. So many places. So many people. And I clearly recall thinking: How can white people possibly believe we are the most? Just look! Most of the world is clearly not white. I said it out loud. Adults looked at me like I was two-headed.

The truth that white people are fewer in number—and always have been—runs counter to what many of us have absorbed unconsciously. We were often taught the opposite, directly or indirectly. Regardless of the color of our skin, we were steeped in a cultural narrative that presented whiteness as dominant and central by default. This was translated to include numbers.

When you’ve lived inside a story like that for generations, it can be destabilizing to realize it was never numerically true. Not even close.

Is that part of the fear at the root of racism? A root we all share? Is that the unspoken anxiety—an old karmic concern stemming from certain white people—that we might be “disappearing” because we are, and always have been, just a small portion of the human family?

Why do I bring this here, into our shared space of spiritual musings? Because this truth has spiritual weight. We who walk a spiritual path often speak of unity, oneness, shared humanity. But we must also reckon with the centuries—thousands of years, even—during which people who looked like me upheld the opposite of that truth. Dominance. Superiority. Extraction. Control. These are not imagined dynamics; they have shaped the world we live in.

What does it mean to face this? Why should we? To me it is sacred work. What does it mean to really feel ourselves to be among a 15% minority—not just to understand it with our intellect, but to feel it in our bones?

My reaction took me by surprise. Seeing it hit strangely hard. I’d been searching for over 40 years. I sincerely wanted to know. I’ve suspected as much since I was young. So why did I feel so struck? It landed hard in my body, in my nervous system, in the quiet rooms where ancestral memory hums and unexamined fears linger.

I noticed subtle fears in my body—not because I fear white people are endangered, but because of something older, deeper. There was a kind of kinetic reaction—a bracing, a shrinking—that seemed epigenetic in nature, not aligned with how my conscious mind works.

My response didn’t show up as consciously conflicting beliefs. It came as conflicting sensations. And that’s what makes it important to notice. The things we inherit unconsciously often run the deepest.

I had a sensation—and it shocked me to find this there—of being less powerful. An instinct of being at risk. Not in a rational or mental way, but in the way old identities flicker when exposed to new light. There were sensations of exposure, discomfort, nervousness.

Now? Now I sit with it. Not to wallow or dramatize, but to see. To allow. To cleanse.
Because if I believe in participating in the healing of the world—and I do—then I must, as usual, begin with me. That is the most effective place to start, always. Not by fixing or changing the external first. That comes next. This work is always best begun by shining light into the unexamined corners of my own lineage, my own conditioning, my own inherited roles. This isn’t about blame. It’s about spiritual integrity. It’s about telling myself the truth. It is the work of intent, of willingness, of opening to change.

When I—and we—can name what arises, welcome it, breathe with it, speak it aloud, then the patterns that limit our humanity start to move. As I said: deeply spiritual work.

What we all find there, regardless of the color of our skin, is our own experience of being dishonored, discriminated against, and shamed in whatever ways we have. And of doing this to others. Some find loss and anger of such proportions that the fear is being capsized by it. We all claim there the truth of human interaction and history. And release our shared pain.

Fifteen percent. A small number to ponder and open to realizations. By seeing clearly what has always been true: that whiteness is not the center of the world. This world was not given to the white of skin. That certainly was never meant to be.

In that realization lies the beginning of something cleaner, more honest, more whole. It is a vital opening on the true path to Integrated Oneness.

May we all know the truth about where we are and how we came to be here.
May we all know the truth about the color of our skin.
May we all know the truth of the Integrated Oneness of our soul.

That is my prayer.

With an open heart,
HuLiLi Leilani

After Notes, for those interested in More:

The percentage of the world population considered Caucasian or white depends on how the terms are defined, which can vary by context (racial, ethnic, anthropological, or cultural). Here’s a general, modern estimate based on “white” or “European descent” as typically used in demographic contexts:

🌍 Estimated Global Percentage of White/Caucasian People (2024):
≈ 15% of the world population

This includes populations primarily in:

• Europe (entire continent)
• North America (white populations in the U.S. and Canada)
• Australia and New Zealand
• Parts of Latin America with large European-descended populations (e.g., Argentina, Uruguay, southern Brazil)
• South Africa (white minority population)

Important Notes:

• The global population is over 8 billion as of 2024.
• “White” is not a scientifically rigid term; it varies culturally and nationally.
• The term Caucasian was originally an anthropological classification and is largely outdated in current science, though still used informally in some countries (especially the U.S.)

May 29, 2025

Article highlights: 

• We are the heralds of the Vision
• We are the dancers of the dream

The world can seem insane just now. In fact, I often hear people use that very phrase. But when I pause to really open and experience the world as it is—when I drop beneath the storylines—I see something else entirely. Something is stirring. Something is New.

What do I see? As a shaman and mystic, what I see is that we are in Sacred Chaos. And that is a very different kind of thing than it appears. Good change is happening—not only despite appearances, but through them. This isn’t naïve optimism. It’s a deeper seeing.

To see this more truly, though, we need a new way of seeing. A way that allows us to glimpse what is not yet fully formed—but is nonetheless most real.

What allows us this clearer seeing in the chaos?

It is a new way of seeing with all our senses.

The advice came to me like this:
In the course of your day, begin to see with your full senses to reimagine what you encounter. As you go about your business, see things anew—see what is emerging in all that is there. Ask your eyes to see the beauty within it, allow your ears to hear the sound of re-creation, and let your words give it name. Let your intuition reimagine how you respond.

This I have known with certainty:
A new world struggles to be born—
and we are the midwives of its being.

We don’t merely hope for this or lend it passive belief. We each—you and I—are among the midwives of our times, meant to birth the new world, to endow it with our own breath of life.

We are meant to impel the Sacred Chaos and give the future its Now. We do this by providing unshakable vision, hearing the new frequency and locking on, journeying into the unknown, finding what is real, then breathing it into form.

We do it by speaking of what is possible.
We name what is good, strong, or tender.
We know our words have power—so we use them to shape the birthing with our voices and thoughts. We entice it with our vision.

We are the heralds, the seers, the builders, the cleansers, the healers of our time. We are among those who know the names of things to come, and we are calling out the names. Not out of fear, but because we know The New wants to hear its names spoken into the Sacred Chaos of its formation.

Declaring what is coming—that is what we do.
That is me, and that is you.

We are calling it forward with all our senses and using our own adept power of sound.
We are speaking the beauty.
Speaking the truth.
Speaking what we know is meant to be.

You have known what is meant to be since you were a child. Nothing else made sense to you—remember? Me too. Together now, we are making it real.

The texture of change is already here.
The air feels different.
The pace is shifting.
Old patterns are cracking open to make room for something truer, more whole.

Sometimes this is what seems clear:
Something wonderful is happening.

The echoes of the future are finding us in our quiet hours. Countless allies in the unseen worlds are at hand. This is co-creation.

So even in the midst of the chaos, what we know is this:
This chaos itself is sacred.

Remember—we received an invitation to this party.
It said:

“COME AS YOU TRULY ARE.
Come in your magnificence!
There will be drums, there will be songs!
Be ready to dance the dance of creation and have an amazing time.
Bring all that you are!”

I remember now—don’t you?
We were invited. And the invitation was to bring it!
And bring it ALL.

We were invited to awaken—even more fully—in this exact moment of chaos (that is in fact sacred) to this one most important truth:

The new world is not only possible—
It is arriving in us.

Through us.
Through the way we reimagine.
In the way we feel things to be.
In the way we speak, and think, and listen.
In the way we sing our songs and sound our drums.
And in how we dance and dance and dance at this party of co-creation.

Here we are, dancing together, dear friend.
Let’s Party On!

Here we are, dancing together, dear friend.

Let’s Party On!
💜 Mayet 💃