Healing in Paradise
I am writing this from the Kona Coast, on the big island of Hawai’i, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. While I was traveling to these little islands across a 2000 mile expanse of open ocean I couldn’t stop thinking that the first people to arrive here over 1500 years ago must have had very sophisticated navigating skills and a very strong prayer to find a place that takes the better part of a month to sail to in the best conditions – if you know where you are heading.
Yesterday, while sitting on a large stone bench that was once a favorite resting place of the High Chief of Kona, I realized how sweet life was for these first settlers – the fruits of the land and sea in abundance and the climate so agreeable that clothing was only needed for adornment and ceremony. That was until the Europeans arrived with their missionaries, who were particularly resourceful in bringing the inhabitants of these idyllic islands to their knees. Accounts are legion about the deceit and treachery they used. Perhaps the best known and most representative ploy was their introducing thorn bushes and cactus here to encourage the natives to wear clothes – and cover up their bodies like decent Christians.
These missionaries were very effective and to this day Christianity is wide spread; but the “aloha attitude” still prevails and in the last few decades the “Hula” – the prayerful dance and music of the first Hawaiians is on the upswing. It is on everyone’s mind and seeping back into everyone’s hearts. Today I saw a group of women and children practicing Hula in the park; about twelve folks all tolled, from infants to Grandmas – and from all backgrounds – Natives mixed with Chinese, Japanese and Europeans. There were three dancers who knew the ropes, the others would glance at them to see if they were dancing the right moves. There was also a youngster of perhaps six or seven years old who was particularly good for her age. She was “carrot topped” and freckled – clearly of European decent. Knowing that she was in the “B” line, she was attentively and carefully helping her Native sister find her place in the dance.
I have always known that music and dance can heal. It seems that these Native traditions may even have the power to heal a lost paradise.
Aho,
Michael Stocker