My husband lived in Hawaii for some time. He talks about it often, and some of those stories stick with me. I’m always so fascinated by tales of goddesses and the things and deeds that are assigned to them. He told me stories of tourists picking up hitchhikers, entities presenting themselves as women, who would disappear out of the passenger seat as they drove. Stories of women approaching people on dark beaches. So I read about her. Listened to firsthand accounts of her. On the islands, they understand Pele as a present being, not some dusty, far away, outdated concept. They understand their land to be living and growing and changing, like flowing lava. All things are changeable and sometimes things have to be burned up before they can grow new life. The Impetus of Pele is how I feel when I feel powerful, or manic, or even furious. To me, the passion of fire is about renewal and inspiration. I like to think that that might be how a goddess of fire must feel sometimes too.