Friday, October 23, 2009
I woke up this morning to a sky striped in pale blues, pinks, and grays, and the air so fresh I knew it must have rained. Not a hard rain, which has only happened a couple of times in the two months I’ve been here (and even that wasn’t really hard, not like the rain we had while in Kalaupapa), but the kind that I’ve come to associate with this particular place on this particular island: a graceful, drizzly, nearly invisible veil of fine drops whipped sideways by the winds. The kind I always feel and smell before I actually know it’s raining, and that no matter what I’m doing, I stop, watch, enjoy.
I'm aware that today is the 23rd. As hard as I’ve been trying to not pay attention to time, I am aware that a month from today I will be on a plane heading “home.” Just the thought makes me weepy, and not even necessarily a sad weepy (though I wouldn't rule it out…), more like a profoundly moved weepy. I truly did not know what to expect in my time here, and if you’ve kept up with this blog, you’ll know the absolute truth of those words. But if I had, already it would have greatly surpassed any expectations this limited mind could ever have put on it.
I’ve struggled over the last few days trying to write about my experience, what I feel going on inside me, and the deep love and connection I feel for and with this island. The land is alive, and there is a spirit living and breathing here that is palpable, and that for some reason, I resonate strongly with. I have heard and now know from experience that Moloka'i has retained more of the the "old Hawaii" than any of the other main islands. And indeed, when I visited Maui recently with my sister, the differences were glaring, heartrending, and hard to take after living for almost two months in the "realness" that is here. As a visitor, I'm aware that I cannot truly know or speak to this "real Hawaii" though I can and do feel something tangible deep inside, something I'm not able to articulate.
The saga of this island and her people is a touching one. If you're interested in knowing more, here is a wonderful, short, video about Moloka’i. In the background is the music of Lono, a gentle, lovely, (sexy!) man (no doubt a Moloka’i prince) whose Old Style Hawaiian folk music, specifically his songs about Moloka’i, has moved me to tears. Twice so far I've seen him perform, and both times it has turned me inside out, where my heart, my soul, every cell of my body has been exposed and worked over by the beautiful instruments, melodies, language, and voice.
For more information about Lono, go to www.lonomusic.com.
(And btw, just what is it about a man holding, caressing and strumming a guitar that's so appealing???)
MOLOKAI RETURN TO PONO by Matt Yamashita~
According to the video, pono is to be physically and spiritually in accord with the sacred. How simple, and yet how profound. Sacred is maybe the word I've been searching for that has alluded me. These islands are the sacred. Moloka'i is the sacred. Being here sacred.
All I can really say for sure is that I know big shifts are happening. To say I am grateful for my time here, for what I know is happening inside while I'm here, is not just an understatment, but feels woefully inadequate. Just like the vibrant, dynamic and powerful Pacific sculpts the incredible rock formations out on Kepuhi Beach, so she, Moloka'i, is fashioning me. From what, I have an idea; into what, remains to be seen. I am the clay, hers the strong, capable, loving, sacred hands.
And in those hands, as corny as it may sound, I just might be becoming the woman I've long wished to be.
BEAUTIFUL KEPUHI BEACH AT LOW TIDE~
MY FOOTSTEPS IN THE SAND!
With aloha nui, from Moloka'i