Gifts of a Chaotic Mind
CBD with Polynesian ancient medicinal ingredients in luxury balms and creams AND vintage upcycled jewelry designs? What in the Sam Hill is going on with this nutty website? Honey, you don’t know the half of it.
For the longest time, I viewed my wild diversity of ideas, creations, multiple jobs as a sad trail of unfinished disturbances generated by a mad brown woman with a cracked mind. I make jewelry. I worked (past tense) at law firms. I write plays. I have spent a decade developing a blend of Polynesian medicinal ingredients with CBD so I could heal myself, my friends, my family.
Hey, lady, pick a lane…any lane!
Why couldn’t I fit the neatly into my vision of the ideal Hawaiian or Asian woman? In my head, she possesses quiet endurance, immaculate organization, and laser sharp focus. She is an unshakeable matriarch, or a brilliant doctor, or a restaurateur with impeccable taste. She is successful, focused (in a “normal” way), has a robust 401K, and is the ultimate cool cookie. She doesn’t misplace her car keys under a roll of toilet paper; or forget that she’s driving a car on the 405; nor does she regularly, ungracefully…rudely…leap from one topic to another in a single sentence. I have spent much of my life forcing my naturally kaleidoscopic mind into this fever dream of Polynesian/Asian woman. I bought the planners, kept lists, and mindfully inhaled and exhaled, desperately hoping that if I adopted the accoutrements, my brain would magically transform into meticulously organized machine.
Nothing worked. I couldn’t fit neatly into anyone’s box. It just made me exhausted, anxious, angry, and profoundly tired of pretending. Then…dun, dun, dun…came my diagnosis. Late in life. I found out I am ADHD. I joked, “Do you think I’m ADHD?” to my then therapist after a 20-minute insufferably, disjointed screed. She said, “Of course you are,” as if I were suggesting that Mt. Everest was tall.
It stopped me in my tracks, but not in a tragic, woe is me way. It was a grand, sweeping illumination. Hearing those words didn't break me—it freed me. I wasn’t lazy, broken, or a failure at being the cool Hawaiian/Asian stereotype. I had a brain that operated on a quirky frequency that, quite possibly, only dogs could hear.
Take my passion for vintage upcycled jewelry. Before my diagnosis, a dining table buried under piles of broken antique necklaces, brass chains, and loose beads would have looked like a hoarder’s hot mess. Today, I recognize it as a manifestation of one of my greatest gifts: the ability to see beauty and connection where others see a graveyard of bad decisions. My ADHD brain doesn’t think linearly, which means I can look at unrelated, broken findings, and visualize how they can be woven together into a singular piece of wearable art.
Even my CBD products reflect an ADHD gift: the gift of deep, intuitive, compassion and off-the-chain hyperfocus. I ache. Others ache. We all need to stop freaking aching. That’s how it began, and for ten years, I spent my hyperfocus capital on blending scattered parts of my life – my absolute belief in the positive and powerful properties of hemp (I chose my words carefully, Mr. FDA) along with my knowledge and experience with centuries-old Polynesian healing medicinal flora. The result? My hero product: Kukui Mana Balm.
Ola is the Hawaiian word for well-being. Well-being manifests for everyone differently. For me, embracing every strange, colorful, head-scratching idea using my wacky wiring and making something exquisite…this is my Ola. I am a Hawaiian Asian woman of a certain, fabulous age. I am delightfully odd, imaginative, intense, and ADHD. My life is like a beautiful piece of upcycled statement jewelry—reclaimed, complex, completely unique.
Welcome to the world of Ola Road.
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