A Confession About Substack and Me
How an Ancient Principle Opened a New Door
Photographed twenty years ago when I lived on Kauai, Hawaii.
A few weeks ago I announced something here on Substack that genuinely excited me.
I wrote:
Discover the seven ancient Hawaiian Principles for bringing invisible possibilities into visible reality. I’ll be sharing these teachings not only through philosophy, but through my own experience of them—through illness, reinvention, love, awareness, writing, Hawai‘i, Crete, aging, creativity, and coherence. Because transformation isn’t theory. It’s something we gradually become.
I had decided to spend seven weeks sharing the Hawaiian Huna principles that have guided my life for more than forty years.
I thought it would be simple.
It wasn’t.
Slowly, I stopped enjoying the very thing I had hoped would bring my readers joy.
The first two principles weren't easily written. Somewhere along the way I found myself focusing more on explaining the teachings than on sharing my own experience of them.
The familiar Substack pressure to stay consistent gradually took over.
And without realizing it, I began organizing my days around producing rather than creating.
Then life interrupted.
Or perhaps...life rescued me.
The Reckoning
One beautiful morning here in Sitia, I stepped onto our patio to water my blooming red geraniums and herbs.
It was just after eight o’clock. Within half an hour Mark and I would be leaving for the two-hour drive to the capital of Crete.
I was happily carrying my bright yellow watering can, chatting to my plants, as I always do.
Everything felt completely ordinary.
Until I tried to straighten up.
I couldn’t.
A sharp spasm seized the muscles around my right hip, and suddenly I found myself hobbling into the house like a bent old woman, wondering why my body had chosen this particular morning to make its point.
Within half an hour we were driving on winding narrow mountain roads that often had me shrieking when a large vehicle suddenly showed up round a bend.
Once we reached Heraklion, we headed straight to the Archaeological Museum. Hobbling through its galleries for the next three hours, I took in the breathtaking treasures of the ancient Minoan civilization that have been capturing both my attention and my heart since moving to Crete.
There is something about standing among objects that have survived for thousands of years. You can almost feel the presence of those who once held them, created them, lived beside them.
It’s deeply stirring...and surprisingly, deeply tiring.
I loved every minute.
And yet...
I could feel something else happening too.
My body was saying,
Enough.
Other tasks and a late appointment had us returning home at 9 p.m. after another harrowing, but very beautiful, drive beneath a blazing Cretan sunset.
Throughout the following week, moving wasn’t easy.
Every time I sat down to write about the Third Huna Principle, I found myself putting it off.
At first I assumed I was procrastinating.
But I knew better.
I could feel my body asking me to pay attention.
A Practical Question
As my hip remained sore over the following days, it kept asking me the same question.
Was I living what I’d been teaching...or simply getting things done?
Because during these past weeks I’d written often about flourishing.
About aliveness.
About not abandoning ourselves.
The Strawberry Full Moon even reminded me of a declaration I had
written:
I organize my life around flourishing and thriving,
and participating in those things that make life joyful and colorful.
Then an unexpected question arrived.
What does flourishing actually require?
Not in theory.
In real life.
When there are weekly deadlines.
When you’ve just moved to another country.
When your days are increasingly spent in front of a screen instead
of beneath the Cretan sky.
For quite a while I’ve believed that growing on Substack meant staying consistently productive, regardless of how I felt.
Deep down, I knew I was overriding my own wisdom.
Consistency that ignores your body eventually costs you your energy.
That realization brought me back to the Third Principle itself.
In Hawaiian Huna we say:
Energy flows where attention goes.
It’s such a simple sentence.
Yet I suddenly realized I wasn’t actually placing my attention on inspiration anymore.
I was placing it on obligation.
On finishing.
On keeping up.
On producing.
No wonder my energy had begun to feel heavy.
The Recognition
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Countless times over the years, Huna has helped me make sense of moments like this.
It teaches that we experience life through different aspects of ourselves, each with its own role and motivation.
There is Lono, the conscious mind that plans, analyzes, and gives direction.
There is Ku, the body-mind that learns through experience, communicates through sensation, and responds to whatever patterns
it has been given.
Beyond them is Kane, our spiritual self, always connected with Source, offering guidance through intuition, inspiration, and inner knowing.
Throughout all of this, however, it was Ku that had been trying to get
my attention.
Ku Speaks
Ku speaks long before words ever appear.
It speaks through tension.
Through excitement.
Through ease.
Through fatigue.
Through that unmistakable feeling of “yes” or “no” before we can
explain why.
Looking back now, I know my body was signaling me.
It had been trying to get my attention for quite some time.
The resistance wasn’t the enemy.
It was a message I hadn't yet understood.
Then another realization became impossible to ignore.
I wasn’t resisting the work.
I was resisting the way I was doing it.
Everything looked different after that.
I’ve written books and articles for decades.
But writing itself has never been the deepest source of my aliveness.
People are.
Being with people.
Teaching.
Watching someone’s eyes light up the moment something opens inside them.
Feeling the energy move through a room.
Those moments have always filled me with joy.
And perhaps they still can—even through short videos, conversations, audio recordings, and live gatherings.
Words on a page will always matter to me.
But they aren’t the whole expression of why I’m here.
My calling has never simply been to write.
It has been to help women remember who they are.
To bring together the wisdom of Hawai’i and now the ancient feminine traditions of Crete in ways that people can actually feel and live.
That requires more than information.
It requires energy.
Connection.
Presence.
And yes — joy.
A few days before, I posted a Note that now feels prophetic.
One of the most surprising things I’m learning is that resistance isn’t always procrastination. Sometimes it’s wisdom asking us to find a truer way forward.
I think that’s exactly what happened.
My body wasn’t trying to stop me.
It was trying to redirect me.
Toward a way of creating that feels more alive.
More sustainable.
More like me.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts of the Third Principle.
Energy really does flow where attention goes.
If I continually place my attention on pressure, my life begins to feel pressured.
If I continually place my attention on aliveness, creativity, connection, and joy, something entirely different begins to grow.
So perhaps the question isn’t only:
Where is your attention today?
Perhaps the deeper question is:
What kind of life is your attention creating?
One More Thing
One of the beautiful things about Huna is that awareness is never the end of the story.
Once we recognize what is happening, we’re invited to respond differently.
So that’s what I’ve begun to do.
I’ve been giving my body more love and attention through Kahi Kahi, a traditional Hawaiian healing practice. I’ve been gently shifting my thoughts toward greater ease rather than pressure, using the very Mindset Makeover process I created years ago. And on a practical level, I’ve been working with a physiotherapist to help my body recover and move freely again.
None of those steps, by themselves, are “the answer.”
Together, they are my way of saying to Ku:
“I’m listening now.”
Have you ever discovered that what looked like resistance was actually your deeper wisdom asking you to find a truer way forward?
I'd love to hear about your own experience in the comments. Our conversations here often open my eyes in unexpected ways.
Sometimes the act of writing doesn’t just change the reader.
It changes the person who wrote it.
If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. And if you think someone else would enjoy it, please share it or tap the ❤️ so more people can discover it here on Substack.
Aloha & Mahalo nui loa — from my heart to yours. 💛
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PS: I invite you to read my newest book, The 7 Lost Secrets for a Rich Life: Mastering Manifestation the Ancient Hawaiian Way. Available on Amazon worldwide. Click here → https://the7lostsecrets.com
Dr. Kala, I very much believe that your body will try to get your attention in ways you won't like if you ignore what it's trying to tell you. I found the Hawaiian sayings interesting and spot on.
Part of the time I went through a chronic pain situation I wrote about where I healed myself was also a time I was doing a job that went against the grain for me, so I believe that was a contributing factor, and why after doing some mind-body work for awhile after anything serious physically wrong was ruled out, ultimately worked.
It definitely sounds like if writing is not enjoyable for you, like it is for me, more audio and video work will be what lights you up.
I love that the Hawaiian teaching is so similar to the ancient spiritual Philosophy from many different cultures. They all seem to be saying the same thing. And I am surprised to find out that this famous saying „energy flows where attention goes“ originates from Hawaii. 🌺
I especially love what you said „I organize my life around flourishing and thriving,
and participating in those things that make life joyful and colorful.“
This! This is the life I‘d love to live.