Aloha and Mahalo
Aloha and Mahalo
Finding Perspective In a Far Away Place
Last Thursday, September 5, I stepped onto a plane for the first leg of a twelve hour journey to the island state of Hawaii. If you are connected to me on social media, you know that I have not posted photos of smiling faces on sandy beaches, yummy spam musubi, and lush tropical rainforests since then.
This was not a vacation.
I travelled all this way, seemingly halfway around the world, to help my best friend close a chapter in her life. Her father passed away last June, and his house, literally filled to the rim with a lifetime’s worth of belongings, needed to be emptied out in order to be sold. This gargantuan task would feel impossible if attempted alone, and so, she flew me out to help her get this done. This was as much about the emotional support as it was the labor, and I have been glad to do it.
It took three days of clearing stuff out before we felt like we made real progress. Truckloads of trash went to the nearby dump. Separate loads of household items and furniture either went to the large Goodwill donation center near Honolulu or to the local homeless women’s shelter. The lingering summer heat and humidity made this project more challenging than it needed to be.
The work has been hard and bittersweet. Discarding someone else’s beloved items has given me much to think about for my own life. I’ve come across photos of birthday celebrations, graduations, and parties through the years. Even though they contain faces of people I do not know, I understand those special moments they shared that were captured by the camera. The living record of a man and his family was embedded in all those recorded memories and so much stuff, and we were disposing almost all of it for reuse or incineration.
I have been asking myself the question, “what does it mean to live a wonderful life?”
The best answer I have come up with is to live with kindness and compassion toward yourself and others. This sounds trite and derivative, and maybe it is. But someday, when I am gone, I do not want to leave behind just a bunch of stuff. I want to leave the world better than how I found it.
Maybe I helped as many people as I could along the way.
Maybe I grew a garden and planted trees.
Maybe I found joy within myself through my music and art.
Maybe I gave a loving home to cats and dogs and treated all animals with love and respect.
Maybe I listened more than I spoke.
Maybe I stood up for people who could not do so for themselves.
Maybe I picked up more trash than I made.
Maybe I took the time to slow down to enjoy a sunset or a slow walk through the world.
Maybe I gave more than I consumed.
Maybe I cultivated a sense of safety and comfort for others.
Maybe I cherished my friendships.
Maybe I cherished myself.
Life can be more than just the physical objects we own. It can be grounded in the relationships we keep and in the love we give to the people, animals, and places that give us joy.
As you read this posting, I am seated on a flight heading back to Tennessee. The house we cleared is now empty and getting ready to welcome a whole new set of lives. Someone has already made a good offer on the property. Its future inhabitants will never know the love, laughter, and losses that lingered within its walls. This is just as well. Its ghosts now sing among the island’s ancestors. I hope my friend finds solace in her father’s song.
I cannot wait to get back home to hug my partner and my family, care for my garden, cuddle with my cats, hang with my friends, and play some music.
Maybe that’s the answer—that you build a life that you love so much that you could never trade it for anything else.
I look back through an airplane window on the Hawaiian islands. They possess some kind of sacred power. I hope I left them better than they were when I arrived a week ago.
I look ahead feeling grateful for my life and eager to get back home.
P.S. Our stay in Hawaii was not all work. We did manage to go to the beach a couple of times, and I ate lots of delicious fresh food. (I’ll leave the sunsoaked, shirtless photos for another day.)
UPCOMING SHOWS FOR FALL 2024:
My performance at the Lipstick Lounge in Nashville this coming Tuesday is part of a showcase of local queer artists called RNBW Collective. Doors open at 6PM. The show starts at 7PM. Free Admission.
Is it possible to feel inspired by a street in a neighborhood? Strangely, yes. The street in an area called Ewa Beach on Oahu where we stayed was so beautifully designed. I took morning walks every day just to revell in its charm. Lined with gorgeous monkeypod trees throughout, it has two small parks overlooking the entire island and its mountain ranges. You can sit on wooden benches and easily lose yourself in the view for hours. I sat and played the ukulele I brought for this trip. The sidewalks snake and curve gracefully along the road. The median is strategically overgrown with a plant that has enormous leaves. I will never forget my mornings walking through this special corner of the world.
