Mākāhā...

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Mākāhā: Sluice gate, as of a fish pond; entrance to or egress from an enclosure...

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Love...

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I was able to spend some precious time with my beautiful sister Nalani. When I arrived at the hospice in Hilo, she was barely recognizable. So gaunt, weakened, and listless as cancer ravages her body. Her eyes were slow to meet mine as I sat on a bed next to her. As recognition set in, she grasped my hands. Tears streamed down her face and I burst forth in tears and sobbed. I never felt so helpless in my Life. It was only in her beautiful green eyes that I could understand all we needed to say without words. She was still in there. Her beautiful Spirit encased in a deteriorating dying body. So much loneliness and suffering in her Life. All I could do was kiss her, hold her, whisper in her ear, and promise her I would shine the brightest Light I could emanate, with all of my Love, to help Light her way Home...
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Today was a most reflective day. After work, I stopped by the hospital to visit with some beautiful 'ohana. Two beloved women, from Kaua'i, each profoundly beautiful and strong in their own unique way, and by Divine providence, just a few rooms apart on the same hospital floor. Both resurrected from the precipice of death and facing intense life decisions moving forward. It was so healing for me to spend time with them both. To hold their hands. To kiss their lips, face and foreheads. To reassuringly caress their arms. To intently pray for Divine healing and an abiding comforting presence. Understanding deeply myself the precarious balance of Life. The most beautiful moment was to look into each of their eyes, deeply, lovingly and knowingly. To profess my Love for each of them. And while we hope and pray for the best, we also know the fragility of this Life. No matter what tomorrow shall bring, we shall always be bonded in undying Love. In the precious fleeting time spen...
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Kane Po...

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I heard about this pohaku from Hawai`i for several years but never had the opportunity to see it. Or touch it. It is outside the National Museum of the American Indian. When I came up to it, a squirrel was jumping around the pohaku. His left eye was `o`opa. A little droopy. I asked him to be careful around our Hawaiian pohaku. I touched the rock hoping to lift my spirits a little by feeling home. To my surprise, the pohaku felt intensely cold and dead. I held my hand for awhile against the pohaku, putting some of my warmth into it while conversing with my limpy squirrel friend. I had expected the pohaku to lift my spirits. I think in the end, I helped lift his...
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