Finding the Sacred Rhythms

Visiting three islands of Hawaii (Oahu, The Big Island, and Maui) leaves one with a mixed sense of how the sacred rhythms are honored in this historic place.

On Oahu, my visit to Pearl Harbor was tranquil and sobering. Realizing that 1,177 sailors and marines lay entombed below the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial humbles you at the sacrifices endured by so many families. Yet it is jarring to see how much capitalism has enabled profit-making to thrive in the midst of the tragedy. So many people making money off of Americans’ (and others’) desire to visit the sacred place leaves you feeling a bit chagrined at the pure targeting of dollars.

At the summit (13,805 feet high) of the Mauna kea Volcano crater on The Big Island one finds the world’s strongest telescopes powering out into the wide expanse of the universe to help us understand our place in the cosmos. There is an eerie quiet as the sun descends and the temperatures drop and all on the summit are silent as the stars suddenly flash across the night sky.

At Haleakala (10,023 feet high) on Maui as masses huddle to enjoy a sunrise there is a sacred silence as the heavily clothed figures assemble in the dark, in the cold. We are shades when we first arrive, but as the sun starts to break through the clouds, each of us becomes transformed by the touch of energy, into a breathing, unique essence of humanity, assembled to witness the magic that is light. Once the sun rises, for the briefest moment, we bathe together in unison in the light. No one moves, still, taking in the light. Then, just as quickly, each figure treks away like atoms shooting out from some massive nucleus.