Aloha Ke Akua

A few years back, when the walls felt as though they were tumbling down, I traveled across the US twice, honoring dreams and following signs.

It was a crazy time filled with healing, many tears, and a reservoir of hope that never ran dry.  Probably because everywhere I went, you know what I found?

Hawaii.

It was the map of Oahu on a shelf of a random book store  that I wandered into in Seattle near Pioneer.

The Pidgin accents of a black woman and a white man standing behind me on a plane to Newark.

The woman whose family was from Hawaii but who grew up in New Orleans speaking with a thick Cajun accent asking me: “Do you unna’stand?”

A Kauai Pride t-shirt picked up on a honeymoon that some dude leaving Houston on his way to Maryland was wearing.

An old friend, the kindness of strangers, family, everything. Hawaii radiated everywhere I went even though I was not physically in the islands.

As I looked out the ocean upon my first return, pride swallowed, ego deflated, and Heart broken wide open.  I laughed and cried as I looked out at the ocean because it was in that moment that I knew the only Truth that matters…

Aloha Ke Akua

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