Mata’ali’i: When the Ancestors Return

Mata’ali’i: When the Ancestors Return

by | Jul 11, 2026 | Events, Wellness Blogs, Wellness Event

Across the Pacific, we look to the night sky and see more than stars.

In Aotearoa they are known as Matariki. In Hawai’i, Makali’i. In Samoa, Matali’i.

The rising of this sacred cluster marks the beginning of a new season. A time to gather, to remember those who came before us, to give thanks for the harvest, and to prepare for what lies ahead. For generations, our Pacific ancestors read the stars as a calendar, a compass and a reminder that we are never separate from the land, the ocean or each other.

At Living Koko, Mata’ali’i is deeply personal.

It is a time when I think of my grandfather, Laulu Sesole John Stanley, and the stories he carried. His chiefly title, his wisdom, and the generations before him remind me that we are only temporary custodians of something much greater than ourselves.

Our family’s history with cacao stretches back more than 200 years, across Samoa and Togo. For generations, our family has grown, nurtured and been connected to cacao across continents, carrying with us not only the knowledge of cultivation, but the understanding that cacao is a gift meant to bring people together. Every harvest reminds us that we are part of a story much larger than ourselves – one rooted in ancestry, stewardship and the enduring connection between people, land and spirit.

 

Laulu Asiata John Sesole Stanley (Grandpa) and Fofogali’i Lilly Grey-Stanley (Grandma)

Some of my favourite memories are the stories my uncle, Sale (Joe Stanley), would share with Mum and me. He would laugh as he told us that one of his jobs on the plantation was to delegate the work of vele le vau—clearing the weeds and tending the cacao trees. Then, with a cheeky smile and a sideways glance that always let us know a good story was coming, he’d confess that he gave everyone else the biggest sections of the plantation to weed while he kept the smallest patch for himself. That way, he’d finish first and disappear, off to ga’a – off on his own adventures.

We would all laugh, but beneath the humour was a reminder of life on the plantation. Every family member had a role. Every tree was cared for by hand. The work was shared, the stories were shared, and those moments – of hard work, laughter and family – became just as much a part of our cacao heritage as the harvest itself.

 

Ulugia Sale (Charles) Joseph Stanley

In 2023, I was deeply honoured to receive my chiefly title, Lolopō. I accepted it with humility, knowing it was not simply an honour but a responsibility—one that I will spend a lifetime growing into. It strengthened my commitment to serve not only my own family, but every family our cacao connects with: the farmers who nurture it, the hands that craft it, and the communities who gather around a shared cup. Like Matali’i itself, it reminds me that we are part of something much greater than ourselves, and that our role is to care for what has been entrusted to us so future generations may flourish.

When we prepare cacao, we are continuing a tradition of gathering people together. Around the Pacific, food and ceremony have always gone hand in hand. We share stories, remember our ancestors, strengthen relationships and give thanks for another season. Cacao has become our vessel for those same moments of connection.

Matali’i also reminds us to pause.

To reflect on the year that has passed.
To honour those who are no longer with us.
To celebrate the people walking beside us today.
And to plant seeds—both in the soil and in our hearts—for the future generations who will one day tell our stories.

As the stars rise once again, we offer our deepest gratitude to our family, our farmers, our customers and our wider Living Koko community. Thank you for walking this journey with us and for helping keep these traditions alive.

May the season of Mataali’i bring you rest, renewal and the courage to begin again.

Ia manuia le vaitau o Mataali’i

Lolopō Cyprian Fruean-Posesione (Cousin), Lucia Henrietta Phoebe Preuss (mum) Lolopō Phoebe Preuss (me)

Wintering: What the Cold Season Can Teach Us About Slowing Down

Wintering: What the Cold Season Can Teach Us About Slowing Down

by | Jul 6, 2026 | Chocolate manufacturers Melbourne, Events, Wellness Blogs, Wellness Event

There is a quiet wisdom that arrives with winter.

The days shorten. The mornings ask us to linger a little longer beneath the blankets. Trees release their leaves. Animals retreat to rest. The earth itself appears to pause….Yet so often, we resist.

We continue to move at the pace of summer, pushing through exhaustion, filling every hour, believing productivity is the measure of a life well lived. When winter comes, we often treat it as something to survive rather than something to embrace.

But what if winter wasn’t asking us to work harder? – What if it was inviting us to become quieter?

I spent last weekend with my headphones on, not because I wanted music non-stop, it was actually to cut out the ongoing noise in the house. It let everyone know I was out of bounds lol, I just wanted my own company…and hoped no one took it personally.

The idea of wintering is not about doing nothing. It is about honouring the natural seasons of life. Just as the land needs time to replenish before new growth appears, people also need seasons of restoration and I needed deep rest with only the capacity for my own thoughts.

For many Indigenous cultures across the Pacific, life has always followed the rhythms of nature rather than the demands of the clock. There is an understanding that community, food, movement, storytelling and ceremony each have their season. Rest is not laziness—it is preparation.

Gathering around warm food, sharing stories, singing together and caring for one another have long been ways of moving through the colder months. Connection itself becomes medicine. But after the first half of this year I just needed to tune into my own thoughts and what I needed.

 I had no more space to give other…so tuning out was tuning in and helping creating space.

Space to breathe.

Space to listen.

Space to reconnect with ourselves and with each other.

In a world that celebrates speed, choosing slowness can feel almost rebellious.

Slowness allows us to notice the warmth of the mug in our hands.

To watch the steam rise.

To hear the rain outside.

To truly taste what we are consuming instead of rushing to the next task.

 

These small rituals have become my anchors. Sometimes we don’t need the candles, the incense, just the moment to give ourselves permission.

Research increasingly supports what many traditional cultures have always understood: slowing down can help regulate our nervous system, reduce stress and deepen our sense of wellbeing. While winter encourages us inward, it also offers an opportunity to restore the energy that constant busyness quietly takes away.

Perhaps this winter doesn’t need another productivity challenge.

Perhaps it needs a new evening ritual to invites the calm warmth into your home.

When I finish work…I light a candle, make a cup of koko, wrap myself in a blanket and read a chapter of a book. This weekend it was “The Process of Breaking Open” by Janelle Bridges. 

I’d read a chapter and then pottered around reflecting on the questions she was asking in each. This brought so much gratitude and depth into my weekend and in the simple silence I understand that Winter doesn’t ask us to bloom, it asks us to build strong roots because when spring arrives growth comes naturally – not because we forced it but because we allowed ourselves the time to restore.

This season, give yourself permission to winter.

Slow down.

Gather with those you love.

Nourish your body.

Honour your spirit…put on those headphones lol

And remember that sometimes the most meaningful growth happens beneath the surface, where no one else can see it.

At Living Koko, we believe wellness isn’t found in doing more. Sometimes, it’s found in slowing down enough to remember who we are.

Winter Restore: Rituals of Warmth, Restoration & Gentle Beginnings

Winter Restore: Rituals of Warmth, Restoration & Gentle Beginnings

by | May 7, 2026 | Events, Wellness Blogs, Wellness Event

There is something winter asks of us that summer never does.

Summer calls us outward. Winter calls us home.

Not just to our houses, but back to ourselves.

To slower mornings. To warm cups held between cold hands. To steam rising before the sun fully wakes. To rituals that soften the nervous system and remind the body it is safe.

For many of us, the middle of the year arrives carrying exhaustion. The adrenaline of the first months wears thin. Calendars stay full. The weather cools. Our bodies begin whispering for rest long before we are ready to listen.

And yet, winter has always been a season of restoration. Not laziness. Not stopping. Restoration.

Nature has always understood this. Trees pull inward. The earth slows. Even the ocean changes rhythm.

Perhaps we were never meant to move at the same speed all year long.

At Living Koko, winter reminds us of the old ways. Of kitchens before sunrise. Of cacao prepared slowly. Of tea shared in conversation. Of the comfort found in simple rituals repeated with care.

Not because they are trendy. Because they are human.

The Ritual of Beginning Again

There is power in how we begin the day.

Before the notifications. Before the demands. Before the world asks us to become everything for everyone else.

Winter mornings invite gentler behaviours. A slower start. A deeper breath. A cup made intentionally instead of rushed.

Restoration often begins in the smallest moments. Not in dramatic transformations. But in choosing warmth. Again and again.

A warm drink. A few quiet minutes. A body nourished instead of pushed.

These small rituals become anchors. They tell the nervous system: You do not need to sprint through life to deserve rest.

Why Warmth Matters

Warmth is more than temperature.

Warmth is emotional. Cultural. Ancestral.

Warmth is the memory of someone preparing something for you with care. Warmth is sitting at a table together. Warmth is steam curling into the air while rain taps against the windows. Warmth is feeling held.

For generations across the Pacific, cacao and warm beverages have carried connection. Not simply consumption. Connection.

A pause. A gathering. A moment to settle the spirit.

Modern life teaches us speed. But ritual teaches us presence.

And presence changes everything.

Tea, Cacao & Winter Rituals

This winter, we are leaning into rituals that restore rather than deplete.

Our cacao husk teas and drinking cacao were never created to be rushed. They were created for moments like these.

For mornings where the body needs gentleness. For evenings where the mind needs softening. For people learning how to return to themselves after seasons of overgiving.

Some mornings restoration looks like:

  • Drinking tea before touching your phone
  • Standing barefoot in the early light
  • Taking three deep breaths before the day begins
  • Choosing nourishment instead of urgency
  • Letting warmth reach the body before stress does

These are not grand wellness trends. These are old human rhythms.

And perhaps winter is inviting us back to them.

Singapore, Fang Studio & the Power of Cultural Exchange

Singapore, Fang Studio & the Power of Cultural Exchange

by | May 7, 2026 | Events, Uncategorized, Wellness Blogs, Wellness Event

Some journeys don’t change what you are building.
They confirm the path you’ve been walking all along.
Singapore simply reminded us we were being guided, held, and moved with alofa.

Before the expo halls, the long days, swollen feet, and endless cacao samples, we were welcomed into the beautiful space of Fang Studio by Kenny and Min — two people who didn’t simply host us, but embraced us like family.

From the moment we arrived, there was a knowing that this experience would move beyond product and into something far more human…connection, presence, and alofa.

We were also deeply grateful to have my mother, Lucia Henrietta Phoebe (Stanley) Preuss, (Etta) travelling alongside us — the matriarch of our family and one of the quiet pillars behind Living Koko. In the most exhausting moments, when the days became long and our bodies felt heavy, she kept our spirits lifted. Calm, steady, nurturing. The kind of woman who brings gentle power into every room without needing to announce it.

Through her, we were also introduced to her beautiful friend Aunty Pele Dawson, whose alofa wrapped around us throughout the entire trip. There is something sacred about being held by women who carry wisdom, softness, humour, resilience, and cultural understanding all at once.

We felt deeply grateful for the presence, guidance, and experience of such incredible women beside us.

Our time together began with cultural exchange through tea ceremony at Fang Studio. Slow movements. Quiet conversation. The kind of presence that reminds you traditions still matter in a world obsessed with rushing. We shared stories, values, practices, and philosophies from different parts of the Moana and Asia, discovering how deeply connected our cultures already are through ritual, hospitality, and community care.

The following day, we offered a cacao connection gathering for the Fang community and what unfolded was something deeply special.

Through the silent reflection in tending to our cacao – Conversations then opened. Laughter echoed through the room. Emotions surfaced gently, held by cacao, breath, and community. These are the moments that remind us cacao has always been medicine for tender togetherness long before it became a product on a shelf.

Kenny and Min continued supporting us throughout the entire week, alongside an incredible circle of people who gathered around our cacao with so much generosity and belief. They checked in on us, guided us, shared our story, introduced us to people, and quietly advocated for us in rooms we had just stepped into.

Support built through trust, reciprocity, and shared values.

Because of these connections, retailers began arriving at our expo space already knowing about Living Koko. They had heard whispers about “the Samoan cacao women,” about ceremony, about ethical sourcing, about the feeling people experienced drinking our cacao. Instead of cold introductions, we were meeting people already curious, already connected, already wanting to explore what the next step could look like together.

It reminded us that real business still happens through people, community.

Through sitting together before selling to one another.

We are deeply honoured that Fang Studio will continue sharing Living Koko cacao within their space, and we already hope to return later this year to create ceremony together again.

Some collaborations feel transactional.

This never did.

This felt like family finding family across the ocean.

Fa’afetai tele lava Singapore.
We left tired, full-hearted, and deeply grateful.

The Easter Moon: Before Chocolate, Before Commerce

The Easter Moon: Before Chocolate, Before Commerce

by | Feb 20, 2026 | Chocolate manufacturers Melbourne, Wellness Blogs

Long before Easter eggs filled baskets, before chocolate shops lined streets, and long before calendars locked the date in place, Easter was something else entirely. It was written in the sky, in the rhythm of the moon, in the pulse of the earth.

Easter Follows the Moon

The date of Easter is not fixed…it follows the first Sunday after the first full moon following the March equinox. This full moon, called the Paschal Moon, has been a guide for centuries. Farmers planted by its light, communities gathered under its glow, and cultures celebrated the cycles of life and renewal. The moon became a marker of rhythm, a silent teacher of patience, growth, and reflection.

Before Easter Was a Name

The English word “Easter” likely comes from Eostre, the Anglo-Saxon goddess of dawn, fertility, and spring. Her symbols were hares and eggs, creatures that carry life, abundance, and the unstoppable rhythm of the seasons. Across Europe, decorated eggs were not chocolate—they were sacred, symbols of protection, fertility, and blessings. Hares were honoured for their swift movement, their ability to appear and disappear like life itself, and for their link to lunar cycles.

Before commerce and confectionery, these symbols were stories of survival, hope, and renewal, told by the land, the skies, and the people who lived in harmony with them.

Cycles, Reflection, and Renewal

Easter has always been about cycles: the ending of winter, the promise of spring, the turn of the sun, and the rise of the moon. Communities, whether in Europe, the Pacific, or beyond, honoured these cycles in different ways, but the heart of the season was the same—reflection, gratitude, and the promise of growth.

Christianity and the Lunar Calendar

When Christianity began to formalise its sacred calendar, it did not abandon these rhythms of the sky. Instead, it adopted them.

The dating of Easter was intentionally tied to the moon. In 325 AD, at the Council of Nicaea, church leaders established that Easter would be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the March equinox. This linked the resurrection of Christ not to a fixed date, but to a cosmic rhythm – aligning it with Passover, which itself follows a lunar calendar.

Rather than separating faith from nature, early Christianity embedded its holiest celebration within the turning of the heavens. The full moon became a marker of resurrection. Light overcoming darkness. Life emerging from stillness.

From Spring Festival to Sacred Season

As Christianity spread across Europe, it encountered existing spring festivals. Instead of erasing them entirely, many seasonal symbols were absorbed and reinterpreted.

Eggs, once symbols of fertility and new life, became representations of Christ’s tomb – sealed, then opened. During Lent, eggs were traditionally forbidden; when Easter arrived, they were blessed and eaten in celebration. Hares, already associated with spring and the moon, lingered in folklore and eventually evolved into the Easter Bunny.

What had once been agricultural and seasonal symbolism became layered with theological meaning. Renewal was no longer only about crops and sunlight, but about resurrection and spiritual rebirth.

A Sacred Layering

Easter, then, is not one story. It is layered.

It carries lunar timing. Agricultural hope. Pagan spring symbolism. Jewish Passover chronology. Christian resurrection theology.

It is ancient sky knowledge woven into liturgy.

And that is why it still moves people.

A Pacific View: Seasons Without Winter

In much of the Pacific, the rhythm of the year is not marked by harsh winters and sudden springs. Instead, it turns gently between wet and dry, planting and harvest, calm seas and restless tides.

In Samoa and across Polynesia, life has long followed the moon. The lunar calendar guided fishing, planting, canoe journeys, and ceremony. Certain phases were better for planting taro. Others for gathering shellfish. The full moon illuminated reef edges and village pathways. It was practical … but it was also sacred.

The moon was not decoration. It was instruction.

Seasonal change in the Pacific is less about thawing earth and more about cycles of abundance and restraint. There are times of plenty, and times of patience. Times to harvest cacao pods heavy on the branch, and times to prune, ferment, and wait.

And waiting is holy work.

In this way, Easter’s lunar timing makes quiet sense. Even without snow or daffodils, the moon still governs renewal. The equinox still marks balance. The full moon still signals completion and illumination.

For Pacific cultures, renewal is not a dramatic breaking open after winter. It is a steady returning. A remembering. A trust that the tides will shift again.

Just as cacao trees rest and fruit in rhythm, so do we.