The Morning Message
Kakahiaka no. I am an early riser, most mornings I am up anywhere between 2–3am. I guess you could say I’m a morning person. It’s considered a “good sleep” when I can sleep to 4:30am. My closest friends and family know that I am usually asleep by 8pm, and are fully aware that if they call me, I won’t answer!
Nevertheless, it is the crisp coolness of the early morning that I love, when everything is quiet, even the land herself is quiet. The busy “ness” of the day is not heard and is still a distance away. The birds haven’t stirred yet and there is a stillness, a calmness about this particular time. I am able to see the night sky and all that is illuminated above me. The stars that have been making their way through the vast cosmos are still up, rising and setting as time moves us closer to dawn. The magnificent mahina, the moon that speaks to us—so many messages she relays each and every night. Who hears her ever-lovely voice?
Like always, I rose early one morning, this time, however, I was in the ancestral homeland, the birthplace of my great-grandfather, the beach where I had slept and woke as a child, the place where my dad was raised on the brackish water, and where I now take my children so they can breathe the “Kῑholo air.” The continued presence of our family on these lands that we belong to is vital and necessary.
In July 2014, our nonprofit organization Hui Aloha Kῑholo, along with our partners The Nature Conservancy and Conservation International, hosted one of our ‘Ohana Lawai‘a Camps—Ho‘omoana i Kῑholo.
As indicative of the name, we set our mats upon the sands of Kῑholo and camped; there in the ever-so-familiar ambiance of Kῑholo Kupaianaha, amazing Kῑholo.
As I exited our tent to go sit on the ‘ili‘ili (pebbles) and welcome in the Kῑholo morning, I walked only with the light of the moon as darkness was still evident.
Thinking I had chosen a suitable spot, I later learned that perhaps the opposite was true—the spot had chosen me.
As light of the morning began to overtake the dark of the night, my attention was called to the little white coral rocks that were no more than six inches to my left. After focusing better on what appeared to be an intentional setting of these coral rocks, I realized there was a message. Left there by an unknown author, this is what I was intended to wake to, to see, to start my day with and now… ultimately to share with you.
Here again, I share an entry from my personal journal:
The Morning Message
July, 13 2014—Early morning journal entry at Kīholo, Kona Akau
With morning eyes I look out, Kaua‘i point is in the near distance, the 1859 Mauna Loa lava flow is in the far distance. Grandmother moon shines her light, piha (full moon). Piha—full souls. The waves continue to do their thing, their function, it is not un-purposeful.
A message left for eyes to see… hearts to feel. Four letters written upon the black ‘ili‘ili, white coral spell L-O-V-E, love. Author unknown, fret not the least, that is irrelevant, the purpose is fulfilled.
Purpose—did these stones know that their purpose this morning was to be placed in a fashion that would communicate a spoken word? Perhaps? Did the hands that placed these rocks know that I would come to see and feel what he or she had intended? Perhaps?
What is known is that the message it conveys is read and felt. Ohhh so powerful it is.
Sit I do, ocean, Moananuiakea before me.
Love = mahina moon above me.
Love = black music making ‘ili‘ili under me.
Love = family seen and unseen behind me.
Love = sunrise is soon to come, Kanehoalani’s time, warming earth, you, and me, bringing life.
Dreams of little boys spoken, one day to be realized. Barriers broken, fears faced, laughter echoes, voices pour energies of love upon listening ears. So many sounds of love. Trusting in love. Aloha, a subtle but constant bell rings, calling, reminding- pay attention, kilo, be aware for love is the covering.
Unborn amongst us, visions of hope.
Kūpuna amongst us, lead us by example.
E lauhoe mai, we paddle together.
Function, purpose, objectives, outcomes, intentions, revelations on multiple levels.
Friends join and become family. Memories made.
Solid. Piha—all this, bound nevertheless
by the morning message. L-O-V-E, love.
One last thing.
To the unknown author, to the white coral rocks, to the spot that said “sit here,” to my ancestors, and our homeland…I say, “Mahalo.” Indeed I am thankful.
Contact writer Ku‘ulei Keakealani
