This week I had the privilege of attending a gathering, an ‘Aha Ho‘oponopono to help folks dive into a deep and defining cultural practice here in Hawai‘i nei. We were convened with not a little bit of urgency, by Aunty Lynette Paglinawan together with Aunty Manu Meyer, with the incredible support of the Center for Indigenous Innovation and Health Equity (is it Excellence now?!).
The confluence of bodies, minds, hearts, wisdom, and experience, together with our location, made for a potent ferment of past, present, future, and our potential. What is the na‘au ‘oia‘i‘o, absolute truth, of each situation we are working to resolve? This concept is foundational to the practice.
One cannot learn to be a ho‘oponopono practitioner in a couple of days. We were not there for that. But we were there to celebrate, recognize, further, and spark a well of innovation that comes when one is grounded in ‘ike kūpuna, ancestral wisdom and experience. The practice of ho‘oponopono was shared, in part. But also many of the things that have sprung from it in a modern context—because as modern Hawaiians and citizens of the realm, we need a variety of tools. Ho‘oponopono as a practice must remain true and intact, but kūpuna like Aunty Lynette, fierce and gentle, they encourage us to innovate and create what we need for the time we are in NOW.
(This reminds me of Aunty Pua sharing about building the first hālau on Kanaloa, Kaho‘olawe. They didn’t know the protocols to do what they knew in their na‘au needed to be done for the first time in perhaps their lifetime. How could they move forward? And then Aunty Pilahi Paki said to Aunty Pua and Uncle Poka in the middle of the night: “Aren’t you Hawaiian? You have the same air, soil, wind, voice, and resources that your kūpuna had.” Basically, she said: go gett’um no sked’um “figure ‘um out.” Hawaiian culture isn’t a thing of the past. As Hawaiians, we are living and breathing in the now; culture is practiced, created, and perpetuated by us all the time). What Aunty Lynette and other kūpuna have advised is similar: Yes, innovate. Go gett’um, no sked’um. The world needs our compassionate action now more than ever. However, there’s an important caveat in this context: if you change the practice, don’t call it ho‘oponopono.
Noted!!! And wow, what freedom this affords us to do and make and be and create for the lāhui! Folks shared the incredible practices and collaborations they have developed with each other and the land to meet the moment, to meet what their communities need. I saw many folks there who inspire me—Talia Cardines, Laurie Tochiki, Venus Rosete-Medeiros, Sharon Simms, choke aunties, and others who have yet to inspire me, but I know they will in the future. They are ALL engaging in this practice of innovation and meeting the many difficult moments of today’s world. My heart goes out to them (to us) because this work is not easy.
My notebook has pages of scrawl; I couldn’t keep up with the sharing and learning of our two days together. Even just writing down names of kūpuna significant to this work, and seeing genealogy and connection to their houses of thought and practice from my own made me feel so grateful. Here are some phrases, thoughts and concepts that stuck in my na‘au as we went through our time together that feel like would be ok to share, with my reflections as well.
- “Pehea kou piko?” How is the center of your life? —Aunty Lahela Kruse
What a powerful kick-ass aunty. The translation of pehea kou piko like this really hits me in the gut. How is the CENTER of your life? (Somewhere an owl in a tree is eating a tootsie pop and asking this very question…)
- The concept of koho ‘ia has always stuck with me since the first Kūkulu Kumuhana gathering, where many folks worked together to develop indicators of Native Hawaiian well-being. Koho ‘ia. No choice, brah. At least part, if not all of your path in life is pre-destined by forces outside your control—your genealogy, your guides, your akua. You can fight it, but you will always come back to it.
Mixing mentors, Aunty Kekuhi often asks us: “What is yours to do?” …And what is it that is uniquely yours to do, that no one else but you can give to the world? Choice, no choice. It was explained to me at Kūkulu Kumuhana that you can try and avoid your fate, your gift, your destiny, but it will be waiting for you. Why not embrace it now?
Ok, do it when you’re ready. But your kūpuna will always be who they are. When you’re both ready, boom. Zooming out to the strata layer, you can see how Aunty Pua’s recognition of each person’s gift ties into this concept of koho ‘ia. Perhaps it’s when we recognize our own gifts that we can feel brave enough to embrace our true kuleana.
- I loved the idea that was shared regarding mea ‘uwao, and the effort to have a healer and peacemaker in every community program. It was shared that we are “returning to pono again”, with an emphasis on the word again.
It’s part of the human condition to sometimes internalize our insecurities and the negative things that happened to us. Our bodies are sometimes wounded, physically or psychologically, by people, incidents, and patterns. For instance, if our understanding of “love” or “family” has always had a difficult charge around it—how we understand “love” and “family” in a lived sense might be fraught. If we have a negative association, then love and family might actually feel unsafe.
The idea of returning to peace again helps us understand that we can go back to a time before the trauma of this lifetime. This can include going back into our genealogy until we find a time that was more whole, or often, going back to the land. After the Maui fires, Aunty Lynette went with her students to serve those who had been affected. Folks would receive lomilomi and then ho‘oponopono students would be available to talk story. Aunty Lynette sat with folks as they looked at photos of their kūpuna together. She asked their kūpuna names, called them in, and reminded folks that they were not alone.
This reminds me of Guts on the Table, where we recognize ourselves in the context of the past, present, and future, and everything that makes us who we are. We are never alone. We can return to peace again, even if it feels like the first time.
- Malia Akutagawa shared that pilina is not just relationships but the quality of our relationships.
I love that. She shared a vision of our people thriving on the land; e.g. she shared a famous proverb that said the waters of the fishpond were more tubulent inside than outside because of the abundance of fish therein. FAT THE LAND. The ea or sovereignty in how she spoke of her beloved Molokai was so inspiring to me. She asked: “What if we knew our ahupua‘a like a lover’s body?” Indeed. What intimacy and pilina does that insinuate in our relationship with ‘āina? We have so much work to do. (And isn’t it is ours to do?)
In today’s world, our freedoms are being threatened at an alarming rate. How do we hold the vision of a fat land amidst the rubble? Aunty Pua says that we have to help people find where their hope lies. We have to envision the island we want to go to and pull it up out of a flat horizon. That’s what helps us overcome adversity; knowing and believing things can be different, telling the whole story. That, to me is ea.
Malia also shared that if you know your mo‘okū‘auhau, that’s 90% of the work already. I can relate in my own way to how genealogy unfolds over time and reveals itself, guiding us when we are ready. I’m so grateful for the gift of genealogy and lineage that Hawaiians have, while knowing that other folks for many important reasons do not have this deep right and connection to land, place, kūpuna (or place, piko, and practice, as No‘eau Peralto might say). Indeed, there are many Hawaiian displaced outside of Hawai‘i nei. However, a connection to ‘āina, here, there, and everywhere is always present for us, spoken or unspoken, acknowledged or unacknowledged. At least, that’s a Hawaiian worldview that I draw strength from. It’s another way to tell the whole story–by reaching into your genealogy and ‘āina and seeing yourself wholly as a product of that rich lineage and strength that we can interact with, overcoming the modern illusion of time. (Just as we vision our future, do we see ourselves as a vision manifest from the past? And if we really sat in that truth, what would we do, who would we become? How does that inform our accountability?)
Well, at this point I’m just going on and on, and in that way I hope you see how inspiring this gathering was! This post is only describing some thoughts and feels from day one, there’s so much more.
I’ll begin to close with a defining thought from the gathering: “The purpose of conflict is unity.” The sentence sounds simple, but is it? Of course, you need to have aloha so that conflict doesn’t go on tyrannical or unchecked, but what if we saw conflict this way? Not as something to be feared, not as something against us, but something to help us move towards resolution and peace, towards pilina? If we saw it that way, would we be more willing to push to the other side, and not get stuck in conflict for fear of change, loss, or annihilation?
Aunty said: “If it’s not oi‘ai‘o, if it’s not sincere, true, authentic, it’s only half done.”
Where are places for you where you sit in na‘au ‘oia‘i‘o, absolute truth? Where are places where it’s hard, uncomfortable? Where do we need to rely on our faith, our spirituality (or a good therapist?! just kidding/not kidding) to help us find a place of na‘au ‘oia‘i‘o beyond what we can reach or perceive on our own?
Where is a part of your life that you can look on and say: “Ho, fat the land?” Where is abundance present, accountability and mutuality truly manifest…or where could some pilina improve the quality of your relationships and support to reach na‘au ‘oia‘i‘o?
This weekend I spent time investing in relationships with people and places that are important to me, even though over the years we’ve all changed quite a bit. I’m from Kailua on O‘ahu and it can be hard to see and envision the fat land when I’m at the beach surrounding by tourists and million jillion dollar homes, or driving through Kailua town as it is now. But when I go to Ulupō and see the dark, lush and bright work of the amazing kupa ‘āina there, people of this place, when I get in the ocean and feel the best sand in the world squish in my toes and feel the shadow of clouds over the waters of my one hānau, the sands of my birth, I can say with a sense of certainty and gratitude for the resilience of this place and our people: fat the land!
I wish the same for you as we move into the week, that you can enjoy the delicious fatness of your favorite people and places as we all continue to unfold.
Mahalo a nui loa,
Dawn
Photo taken 6/8/25 at Ka‘ohao, O‘ahu in such a way that you can’t see the hordes of people on either side. Perhaps I persist in visiting my places out of a sense of nostalgia, or maybe a resistance to assumption that Kailua is not a Hawaiian (or even a local) place, or both. We are still here.