HAUMANA

 Haumana

... "If you take the word ... hau means to chew; and mana is the spiritual force. So, in a way, you chew on it, what I give you, you masticate it. What does masticate mean, when you're chewing on it? It means that the juices are running, yeah? And you digesting it, taking it down over here [stomach] and the mana is what you're chewing. Now, if you're not true haumana you're not going to do that, you see what I mean? So are you open to learn? I'd like to know ... are they open for that? If they're not then no matter what I say, they not going to take it in." - Likeke Paglinawan

Before meeting for lunch, I went to Libby Beach, the west-facing beach my family and I love. Facing west, I look toward Hawaii.

We walked the 'aina, the land where Linda lives, and has lived for more than twenty-five years. 

Many plants grow on the 'aina. This one is Woman's Wood. 

From the grassy space we shared a prayer, good food, story, laughs, and called on Lono ... the wind, the god of sound.
Ho'olono ... invoking the spirit of the god Lono. 

Today and tonight is the Mauli Moon, the last phase before a new cycle of moons begins. This is the month preceding the blessing and opening of the small gathering place called Ho'omoku. With my heart still raw from the passing of our dear old friend Jots, I packed myself up and as promised drove to set the intention for a joyful and pono connection with haumana, a student.

This student pursued me a couple years ago, asking to know about the Hawaiian language. I told her I was not a fluent speaker, and was not teaching. But, I offered her the writing and work I was (and am) doing. Over time this woman explored my blog Makua o'o and came to the storytelling events I began presenting.

She was curious, and she was willing to invest her curiosity.

When I felt the push to teach what I know, now, as Makua o'o it was this woman I called first. She was excited, and ready. Today it was to her house and the land she cares for, overlooking beautiful Penn Cove that I went.

Linda took me across the road, Karl her companion (a large old four-legged canine) was ready for a swim. Using a sweet and hidden beach trail we arrived on the beach and walked the shore. Beautiful. Wela. Hot. As the summer moves it will be warmer. Our haumana showed me where there is shade: the large, first willow on this island shore, the puka in the roots of another kupuna la'au (elder tree) which has stood in the sand for many many seasons -- shrinking in size the trunk, over time and weather, and tide.

To begin the malama (month) leading up to the teaching place. I give thanks for the opportunity, the puka, the opening where mana can be chewed. I prepare myself, I clean, I clear, I give thanks.

This is what haumana is. This is who I wish to teach.