“The work of the mature person is to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other and to be stretched large by them. How much sorrow can I hold? That’s how much gratitude I can give. If I carry only grief, I’ll bend toward cynicism and despair. If I have only gratitude, I’ll become saccharine and won’t develop much compassion for other people’s suffering. Grief keeps the heart fluid and soft, which helps make compassion possible.”
Kumu enjoying a break on the Blood River, KY
We have been studying compassion through the hula, Kaiona, these past few months. Kaiona, the goddess of the lost, was written by Puakea Nogelmeier and sung by Keali’i Reichel. The melody is soothing, the words are enlightening, the hula is transformative.
We’ve gone deep with this hula. Our bodies have learned hands and feet, our minds have studied the lyrics, and we’ve opened our hearts finding emotions within to share as we tell the story of Kaiona. It’s a story of being lost, caring for ourselves with loving kindness, finding the sparkle within, and helping others.
I’ve noticed how being embodied and dancing is not only about joy, but it’s an integral part of a healing process. It’s about opening your heart or starting the process to open. Like learning anything new, at first it’s difficult, but as you keep going, you’ll be surprised by how much you’ll learn about yourself and the world.
Feeling lost can be about loss or the grief that arises due to loss. I remember four times in my life when I spontaneously started crying out loud because I was very sad. One time was when I was leaving for college to go to the University of Redlands in California. It was 1968. I was 18 and ready to leave Kukaiau to see the world, yet how does one say goodbye to a family that one has had so many experiences with. It’s a loss of a way of life.
The whole family was at Hilo Airport seeing me and my high school classmate, Mary Lou Yuen, off to Honolulu and then Los Angeles. I’m sure I was triggered when I gave Dad a hug. We had a kind of relationship, especially when I was older, that whenever we’d have a serious discussion about anything, I noticed that tears would arise and I’d be wondering why I was crying. I noticed that Dad would be speaking to me in a very simple but very compassionate and loving way.
My head couldn’t really figure it out. But my body knew that aloha was flowing and my heart was opening and tears naturally following. It’s hard to gauge a parent’s love with your head. But you can’t argue with your heart.
After hugging my parents I burst out crying as I walked towards the stairs going up into the plane. When I started college, I was homesick for a good month. It’s a good thing that Mary Lou and I were roomies. Everything was just so different. And then I adjusted to life as a college student but always with gratitude for my upbringing in Hawaii - for the land and my family.
I didn’t really think about it then, but when I look back and reflect, I see that grief and gratitude went hand in hand. Grief initially is raw and it hurts your heart. But be brave, stick with feeling - not so much the thoughts but the feeling in your heart - it will not last forever and you'll be grateful that you did because it helps keep your heart fluid and soft - an important way to generate compassion. And we need a lot of that right now.
Malama pono (take good care of body and mind),
June Kaililani Ryushin Tanoue
Kumu Hula, Sensei