Ho'oulu 'Aina and Hope

"Ho'oulu 'Aina addresses the health needs of Kalihi Valley (on the Island of O'ahu) by strengthening the connection between people and land. Through four interwoven program areas, the community comes together to create a 100 acre upland resource of forest, food, knowledge, spirituality, and health activity. As we restore this land to health and productivity, we learn that healing is reciprocal." - Ho'oulu 'Aina

" The transformation of despair into hope is alchemical work, creative work. And what all transformations have in common, writes Rebecca Solnit, "is that they begin in the imagination.To hope is to gamble," she says. "It's to bet on the future, on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty are better than gloom and safety. To hope is dangerous, and yet it is the opposite of fear, for to live is to risk. I say all this to you because hope is not like a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. I say this because hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency; because hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal. Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope." - a quote from Rebecca Solnit on Terri Windling's blog Myth and Moor

All day long the rain has fallen. Heavy. Sudden. Piercing. Near hail. The temperature has shifted from an early summer seventy-eight to forty nine. The weather, the elemental gods Lono, Kane they are not blind to the smallness of spirit in humans who are bred on smallness and fear. 'Aue the tragic killing in Orlando. 'Aue, 'aue, ho'ouwe kalani!  Oh, oh what cause for the heavens to cry!

Very early this morning I woke to make time to write one more segment in the medicine story that is uprooting old issues of shame and fear. So deep are some of these issues one life-time may not be enough to ferret them out. But, it will not be for lack of trying. I have worn teeth to prove what an aging ferret's teeth are like. In this growing medicine story the character Uncle Moon wrote a letter to a tiny girl on her first birthday. In green ink, written in a flowing script he wrote:

My Tutu always told me patience is something no man can take from you. So this is how you and me learn about patience. I write, we read. I write, we read. Then you learn to write, we read. Ho'omana

In between my piecing of thoughts into story, I diverted and went to one of my favorite art-nurturing watering holes: Myth and Moor. The quote above describing Hope was part of the beautiful offering left there by Terri Windling.

There. There was something to build into my writer's imagination, and medicine story. I felt the push, the shove that must have been what got me out of a warm bed, and into the woods where already the puddles of rain were deep enough to soak my little shoes clear through. The medicine story being written pulls on threads and roots from so many directions: a mele a song whose meaning has been variously interpreted over more than a hundred years; a name that has laid down waiting, waiting for what? Maybe, the names wait for the next waves or rainfalls filled with hope.

A few days ago, I received a message and an attachment from our son who lives on O'ahu. A second podcast produced by Hui Mauli Ola recorded an interview with a wonderful wahine o Kalihi a woman of Kalihi Valley on the Island of O'ahu. We know this wahine Puni Jackson. When Pete and I were newly unended and empty of hope because we no longer had the safety of 'a home' to live in, our son, Christopher Kawika, invited us to met and visit with Puni Jackson. At the time (2007) Puni and her kane had just moved onto the land and the project called Ho'oulu 'Aina was newly hanau. The land was wild, raw and wet! Though we could not stay, we were welcomed and felt the safety of this pu'uhonua.

Nearly ten years after, we listen to this podcast and heard the journey of hope and healing in Puni's words about the healing process of Ho'oulu 'Aina. The YouTube presentation that begins this post is also Puni Jackson (2015) speaking about the personal messages that needed to be transformed, with hope. Through that listening I learned more about the young woman of forty, mother to her fifth keiki, and example of aloha who gave us hope when we most needed it.

"Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope." - Rebecca Solnit

Home-made Makahiki Ceremony; a Humpy for Loretta

A pal sent me the following weekly horoscope. She knows me pretty well. My favorite astrologer wrote about Kudzu yesterday, and ended her post with a couple questions. Is there “kudzu” in your life?  Something that seems appealing but will choke you out if you don’t stay on top it? Me and one other ElsaElsa regular agreed it was "obsessive thoughts" that are our personal "kudzu." 

Scorpio Horoscope for week of August 20, 2015

Hundreds of years ago, Hawaiians celebrated an annual holiday called Makahiki. It began in early November and lasted four months. No one worked very much for the duration. There were nonstop feasts and games and religious ceremonies. Community-building was a featured theme, and one taboo was strictly enforced: no war or bloodshed. I encourage you Scorpios to enjoy a similar break from your daily fuss. Now is an especially propitious time to ban conflict, contempt, revenge, and sabotage as you cultivate solidarity in the groups that are important for your future. You may not be able to make your own personal Makahiki last for four months, but could you at least manage three weeks? 

The pictures below track the making of a very special fish for a very special friend. Pete began creating this 'float-size' Humpy Salmon with a vision of having several friends swim this magic salmon to our dear friend Loretta. Her full and generous life of service, teaching, baking of miraculous pies, cookies, potato salad and awesome shortbread have endeared this woman to many people of all ages here on Whidbey Island. I put a few finishing designs to the bones and skin of this labor of love, and our friend Gary (visiting from California, but also a Whidbey Favorite) and Pete hoisted Loretta's Humpy out of the orchard, through the fence and gate and out to Gary's trailer. 

The plan is to assemble a bunch of friends on Saturday and gather in the spirit of 'solidarity' and aloha, remembering and practicing no war or bloodshed with community-building as the featured theme. An afternoon exercise in 'personal kudzu' clearing time inspired by the spirit of Brother Salmon, cutting and sticking designs onto a magic fish for someone else, someone who has done so much for me and many others. 

Dorsal fin will be attached at the last minute 

SALMON inspires and blesses the design and regalia for Loretta's Humpy

Trimmings 

Teaching an old dog: B flat on the ukulele

2:41 into this YouTube tutorial, "... Angle that neck, a hard 45 (degrees). Whose the ukulele police to tell you otherwise, right?!"

"Do you play ukulele a lot?" my friend asked me this past Solstice Sunday.
"No...not as much as I'd like to." It was true, distracted or resistant to playing the mahogany beauty she has been safely resting. But, tucked into her case for months. Now that she and I have resumed our love affair, and more reasons for playing chalangalang keep presenting themselves, I challenged myself to play the dreaded B flat chord.

The B flat chord is difficult, for many. It's difficult for me even though my son tried to show me an adapted version that works for him. This morning I found the tutorial above. I'm watching it, and practicing his approach. I especially like the commentary about the 'ukulele police' (too many of them stifled my early attempts). The joyful sounds of ukulele and voice are moving me like fresh water streaming into an ocean of (ancient) salt water. Unzipping the black case, stepping up again, I play and sing for the love of it, and send music across the ocean to an old friend.

Alice Moon, our old friend was Taurus(not Aries, as I was mistaken) She moved energy! I remember sitting in her Waianuenue Street office one day as voices rose next door. She rented space to singer and harpist, and teacher Oona McOuat, and this was a day for voice lessons. Sharing space and talent was something Alice thrived on. She was a Hilo-girl, and sank her roots deeply into this community from her Keaukaha family home and moved energy with the force of the Ram(perhaps she had Aries somewhere in her star chart). We got word of the cancer that would take Alice from Hilo. Our niece Rosie emailed us to tell us.

"She's not too good talking," Rosie wrote, "but here's her address if you'd like to send her a letter."

"I'll write it, and get it in the mail today," I replied. I did write, and mail it.

My chalangalang style with the ukulele has been one where I play without the high chord sound of the B flat. F, C, C7 ... three string chords easily accompany my lower range of voice, at this age. I give it all I've got and that has been enough to just keep playing.

This morning as I sat on the futon singing for Alice, I wanted a little change, a bit more lift, a higher note: the B flat!

Listening and watching the ukulele player in the YouTube I felt a kinship to this man whose obviously run the rapids on more than one occasion. He encouraged me -- fueled me with courage -- to play the ukulele by showing me how to adjust the angle of the neck, the position of the palm, and the knuckles. I heard some tips I'd never known were applicable. From a man who has flexibility issues I could hear the advice. "I'm not an ukulele teacher,..The instrument ought to become one with the body," he says.

This really got me good, "become one with the body." As I played ukulele having fun with friends this weekend the ukulele slipped into my lap from time to time. I had to use my legs to push it into place to keep the strum going. My whole body was playing music!

Old anchors, safety pins tried-and-true are being pulled up as they lele and ho'oholo (fly off, and run) the narrow trails of life's continuation. The precession. Connecting with loved ones through music is giving me comfort. The old dog who believed she no-can, is giving it one more chance to do it a different way.

You know what I mean?

Tuesday morning Rosie emailed, " I don't know if you mailed the letter, but I want to tell you Alice passed Monday." 

I emailed back, "I did mail the letter, and it should arrive Tuesday." I attached a broken heart to the reply, sorry to be late.

Early this morning I got a fresh email from Rosie, "The letter arrived on Monday. Her sister Sarah read it to Alice before she passed. Miracle mail."

Alice, this practice with the B flat? It's for you dear friend, you always found another way! 'E lele 'oe.

Our fondest and deep aloha to the Moon Women in Keaukaha ... Jan, Sarah, Ruth,

Mokihana and Pete 

Oona McOuat has written a lovely tribute to Alice Moon on her blog here. Once again, Alice, you have moved energy from where you are!

Relationship

"It is not the land which is broken, but our relationship to land."  - The Honorable Harvest

He aikane, he punana na ke onaona.A friend, a nest of fragrance.Sweet indeed is a good friend. - 'Olelo No'eau

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. - Marcel Proust

"Something opens our wings,
Something makes boredom and hurt disappear.
Someone fills the cup in front of us:
We taste only sacredness."
-Rumi 

"Aloha is the intelligence with which we meet life." - Kumu Hula Olana A'i

"Loving is a rigorous act. Loving is a verb. Aloha is loving." - Manu Meyer

Planting a Doug Fir for David and adding a wind chime so he can rattle it as he passes through.

((((These few words are for my family; remembering my brother David, grieving his passing one year ago, grateful for his life.))))

Aloha

 Aloha is the intelligence with which we meet life.

Olana A‘i, Kumu Hula

"I love that[referring to Kumu Olana A'i's quote]. And so I'm here today to discuss the alternative ways of knowing. Because I no longer say "Hawaiian ways of knowing" anymore. Because people just relegate that to the margins. "Ways of knowing," as if it's a quaint, anthropologic way of describing something outside of us.
No, it's "epistemology." This is the philosophy of knowledge. This is the belief of knowledge, production and exchange. What is important about knowledge.
So the truth of knowledge is very profound. And it starts with our sensual development. Where did you grow up? How did you grow up?...
You know, when people believe that literacy is the highest form of intellect, I beg to differ, beg to differ. You know. Poor thing, you cannot read. Yeah, in a modernity sense, you've got to read. But don't tell me I'm stupid if I no can read.

Understand your own shackling of colonialism, that would put literacy as the highest form of intellect, and not aloha..." Manu Meyer

I woke this morning with the feeling of ha'aha'a humility. It was not so much that I thought it as much as I felt it. It's 23 degrees outside and though our vardo is cozy and toasty warm with heat, the Quonset Hut, where I am now, is just barely warm. So I am layered up from toe to throat. Discomfort will do that, bring me to humility, knowing that shelter keeps me safe enough when Nature turns on the taps -- freezing, firing, blowing, rising the waters. In addition to the effects of winter something else serves up the value, the feeling of ha'aha'a for me. Back on the islands I hear the voices of my family in Waimanalo talk about the strengthening bonds of aloha. Time and situations are bringing generations together in everyday ways: a ride to the North Shore to share time, catch the surf, read a book; hanging out for Thanksgiving sitting and laying around on the floor after eating; asking for and getting a massage a'e style (treading with the feet); playing ukulele.

Far from the place where those things are happening my heart longs to be there too. The cold amplifies the longing. I put more clothes on. In my dreams Pluto transits my Capricorn Moon and bits of rubble I can pretend aren't there in the light of day come in no logical progress; that is the nature of Moon Tattoos. The cold, the longing, the humility of experiencing life over time is a practice of meeting life. Manu Meyer reminds me that distance challenges me to remember my core values and sort through the 'colonial' beliefs that linger, hide and tempt me to be blind or deaf to Aloha all around and inside.

Just before we settled into sleep last night Pete put down the novel he's reading Havana Bay a spy, investigator story set at the turn of the century (1999) in Cuba. Cuba. A very large island nation. Out of favor with the US. Independent in a very different way today when its people and its economy no longer traded with the US. The novel and the details of everyday experiences I hear Pete describe while he reads the espionage brings up conversation about Cuban wooden box drums -- Pete built two for drummer friend who traveled to Cuba in late 1990. We talk also about the size of Cuba confused by the use of the metric system as I am, we're not sure whether the island nation is 1,000 miles long. Cuba is 42,426 sq miles (109,884 km²). I recall the videos I've watched about Cuba's reclamation period "the special period" post embargo. 

"We live in a vanilla society," Pete said just before he turned the lamp off. I was between wake and sleep, and grunted. But knew what we was saying. He added, "Well, you of all people know that!" It's true. I miss the other flavors. The discomforts we experience living from vardo for two are more than most experience in the Pacific Northwest. But we all take for granted the grandness of our normal conditions. 

I need to express some of these things whether clear or meaningful to others, who can tell. What is important is for me to know that at the core of being human loving and caring for one another and for critters like the wandering cat who would love to be inside is part of everything. Carry my stick, wrap up when cold, massage the message with fingers or feet and feel the love.