The week I turned 50, my marriage came to a sudden end. My house, furniture and everything I’d owned was auctioned off to pay debts I didn’t even know existed. In a week I had lost my husband, my home and my parents who refused to accept a divorce in the family. I’d lost everything except my four teenage children. I had enough money to rent a cheap apartment while I looked for a job or I could use every penny I had to buy five plane tickets from Missouri to the most remote island in the world, the big island of Hawaii. Everyone said I was crazy to think I could just run off to an island and survive. They predicted I’d come crawling back in a month. Part of me was afraid they were right.
The next day, my four children and I landed on the big island of Hawaii with less than 2,000, knowing no one in the world was going to help us. I rented an unfurnished apartment where we slept on the floor and lived on cereal. I worked three jobs scrubbing floors on my hands and knees, selling macadamia nuts to tourists and gathering coconuts. I worked 18 hours a day and lost 30 pounds because I lived on one meal a day. I had panic attacks that left me curled into a knot on the bathroom floor shaking like a 1shell-shocked soldier.
One night as I walked alone on the beach, I saw the red orange glow of the lava pouring out of Kilauea Volcano in the distance. I was 1wading in the Pacific Ocean, watching the world’s most active volcano, and wasting that incredible moment, because I was 1haunted by the past, exhausted by the present and terrified of the future. I’d almost achieved my childhood dream but hadn’t realized it, because I was focused on my burdens instead of my blessings. It was time to live my imagination not my history. Tondalaya, the Fire Goddess of the Volcano had finally arrived.
The next day, I quit my jobs and invested my last 1paycheck in art supplies and began doing what I loved. I hadn’t painted a picture in 15 years, because we barely scratched out a living on the farm in Missouri, and there hadn’t been money for the tubes of paint, and canvas and frames. I wondered if I could still paint or if I had forgotten how. My hands trembled the first time I picked up a brush. But before an hour had passed, I was lost in the colors spreading across the canvas in front of me. I painted pictures of old sailing ships and as soon as I started believing in myself, other people started believing in me, too. The first painting sold for 1,500 before I even had time to frame it.
The past six years have been filled with adventures. My children and I have gone swimming with 1dolphins, watched 1whales and hiked around the 1crater rim of the volcano. We wake up every morning with the ocean in front of us and the volcano behind us. The dream I had more than 40 years ago is now reality. I live on an island with a continuously erupting volcano. The only animals in the jungle are wild 1boars and mongooses and there aren’t any cannibals. But often in the evening, I can hear the drums from native dancers on the beach.
I’m free for the first time in my life. I am Tondalaya, the Fire Goddess of the Volcano, spelled with two “D”s and I’m living happily ever after.
