All posts filed under: Transitions

Numb

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Today marks four weeks since my mother lost her 2-year fight against cancer and I am still unbelieving that she is gone. I catch myself still thinking she’s a text message or phone call away, but she is not and I am then reminded of being motherless. I had never wished for death to come to my mom until I watched her suffer in her final days. It is a difficult thing to watch, the passing of a loved one, but in the end, I felt relief. The funeral director told me later that despite my mom’s death being difficult, my family was actually quite lucky. At first I was upset, but when he began to explain, I understood his point. For him, he’s worked with families where death was sudden and unexpected. In some of those cases, there is often regret because family and friends wonder if the person who’s passed on knew how much he or she was loved. Feelings and thoughts are sometimes left unsaid. With my mom, watching her health and her spirit deteriorate was difficult, but my family emptied our hearts to each …

Life Companion

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December 19, 2015, would have marked my parents 43rd wedding anniversary, but a week prior, my mom passed away.  Though it was a very sad occasion, I have come to terms that she is in a better place where she no longer experiences the constant pain in her body and is resting.  For the past five years she had been battling a few ailments (heart failure and cancer) which all involved multiple surgeries.  Through it all, my father, her husband and life companion for the past 50 years was by her side. Though my dad does not enjoy the doctor’s office nor the hospital, he would hold it all together just to be with her.  He would go anywhere my mom would take him, even if it meant not being in a place he was comfortable.  My mom would drag my dad to her weekly health classes to learn how to eat better, care for her body, and basically socialize with others who were also going through the same things as her.  My dad listened …

Growing Up, Growing Old

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I am an only child to young parents. They were barely 20 years old when they had me, which led to an extended family living situation so I grew up beside them, while my grandparents served as my second pair of parents until I went to boarding school at the young age of 13. Before my ʻūniki 1.5 years ago, my mom called me in tears. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer and she was scared. Over the course of the next 6 months, I would fly up to Honolulu, meeting my parents halfway, to attend the slew of doctors’ appointments, which coincided with her chemotherapy treatments. After chemotherapy, she underwent a double mastectomy and a stint of radiation. When she came through everything, we were told to hang tight for 6 months to make sure she was was out of the woods and being that my mom has been an avid runner for a long time, we were optimistic, but during recent check-ups, tests revealed that cancer had shown up in her liver and this time, there was less to …

Connect (Photo 101, Day 6)

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I took this photo at Bongeunsa Temple in Gangnam, Seoul, South Korea. The peacefulness of this temple complex is a noticeable change from the bustling Gangnam that surrounds it and it’s definitely a place to both disconnect and reconnect. It was at Bongeunsa that a friendly woman motioned to my hula sister and me to enter into the building where she was praying. Once we reached the door, I noticed the room was filled with other women, some sitting in silent meditation or reading passages, while others were in the process of bowing. We removed our shoes and the woman who had welcomed us in, laid cushions on the floor for us to sit. Although she didn’t speak English, we followed her lead, entering quietly so as not to disturb everyone else. I sat quietly on the cushion and allowed all the elements of the room to engage my senses; the smell of incense, the hushed praying, the ornate statues. I glanced around me and made eye contact with our host, then bowed my head slightly to thank her for her hospitality while she smiled back. After 10 minutes of adjusting …

A Letter to My Future Son

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As March rolls in, it reminds me that 3 years ago I was about to have my son. I remember going through many emotions of fear and doubt but I did something get through it. For expecting mothers write a letter or journal your thoughts to your baby. Writing this before he was born just made it real. It also now helps me remember. While searching through my notes in my phone for an enchilada recipe I stumbled upon this: March 07, 2013 Okay so I have about a week more and I should be giving birth to my first child. I didn’t think this would be coming to fruition. It’s one thing to talk, wish, imagine, but my goodness it’s for real . I’m gonna have a baby! So that’s one thing to think it but I have to survive the labor. Am I gonna handle like a champ or cry and tell them to just cut me? I want to see this baby! Will it look like me? Will it look like James? …

Family Hopes

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Lately, I’ve wondered if the hopes and dreams that my ancestors may have had for me are manifesting. Is my life what they had envisioned for me? Am I living up to their expectations? Would they be proud of me if they were still alive? I see myself in this banyan tree, laden with ema plaques filled with wishes. My grandparents once pinned their hopes on me that I might live well, while my roots extend deeper into the earth. Above all else, they probably would’ve wanted me to be happy, and that, I most certainly am, thanks to them. In response to: State of Mind  

Umibiraki

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  Yurihama is the sister city of Hilo and I was incredibly blessed to dance at the annual Hawaiian Festival one summer. On that trip, after meeting with government officials, we were whisked away to a beach and participated in an umibiraki ceremony. The ceremony was led by a Shinto priest tasked with declaring the sea “open and safe for swimming”. School children were then led by their teachers down to the ocean for a dip, officially kicking off the swimming season. Most Japanese adhere to the swimming season, so it was lovely to witness a formal ritual for something we take for granted in Hawaiʻi, where swimming season is year-round. Lately, I’ve been feeling like the world around me is so much more casual than I’m used to and it’s probably because there is not enough ritual in my life. For me, transitions marked by ritual, give me necessary pause. They allow for reflection on what has transpired and for visioning on how to progress into a next phase, so if I’m feeling like marked transitions are necessary for my own well-being, then perhaps incorporating ritual more intentionally in my life is a good …

Celebrate Me When I’m Alive

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In the last month and a half, I have had a number of friends and loved ones pass away.  I am always saddened of course, because losing someone means a part of you no longer exists in your living life.  But more often than not, I am motivated and inspired to reflect on the following thoughts:  Am I living a life that I love?  Am I living to my fullest potential?  Am I spending my time the way I want to spend my time and not spending it in a way that is expected of me or as a result of guilt?  These thoughts help me to make sense of the loss and to find new meaning in what I believe life is all about. One such loss was the passing of my good friends’ mom, Mrs. Lam.  She was a firecracker and definitely loved living life to the fullest.  I had the honor of sharing the fond memories of her that everyone had written down for me to read during Mrs. Lams’ service.  And …

My Grandpa, My Best Friend

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What is your earliest memory? Describe it in detail, and tell us why you think that experience was the one to stick with you. The earliest memory I have is being 1-year old and crying at the back door of the house. My parents had gone to work and I was left alone with my grandfather who, because he was retired, was tasked with babysitting me. I stood there, tears streaming down my face, pounding on the door, wishing to be close to my mother, but unable to articulate exactly what I wanted. My grandfather picked me up and comforted me, holding me close, bouncing me slightly, while softly saying “shh-shh-shh” and walking me back to the living room. I remember crying in his arms for a bit longer and then the memory ends. My parents and I lived with my grandparents, so it was as if I had two sets of parents. Being an only child, I had no playmates growing up, so my grandfather became my best friend, and we ended up being an unlikely …

Transition

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Transition Last December, I went through the rites of ʻūniki which, in the tradition of my hālau, is a formal graduation ceremony marking ones transition to becoming a kumu hula or a teacher of hula. Every tradition is different. Some hālau do not ʻūniki students, while others do. I share this image with all of you because it was a defining moment in the ceremony. It was the culmination of my lifelong career as a hula student and the beginning of a new chapter. A kumu hula from a different tradition tied on my pāʻū kaula and was the first to greet me into this prestigious guild of hula masters. Becoming a kumu hula has been something I’ve reflected upon hundreds of times in the past year. I continue to mourn the end of my time as a hula student and although my new role demands its own attention, I now have time and space to properly process my transition between death and rebirth within the hula realm.

We’re Back!

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It’s been a little over a year since our last official post and since then, a lot has happened to each of us. In case you’re wondering, no, nothing happened between us. Our friendship has remained in tact. It’s just that for the past year, our respective lives required us to drift in different directions and so our friendship flexed and endured, as any strong friendship should. We have continued to love and support each other despite the distance, through celebrations and triumphs, through trials and tribulations, just like we’ve always done, even before Holoholo Girls. Although we felt guilty about letting our little blog go, the time away was good. It provided us with a bit of perspective. We are different now than we were a year ago. Much different. We are stronger, smarter, and more mature, and so our blog will reflect that growth. We will continue to blog as a way to explore our changing and emerging perspectives, but our collective focus may make a slight shift, so bear with us, as …