In the travel literature while flying to Hawaii, I learned of something called Hoʻoponopono, an ancient Hawaiian practice of reconciliation and forgiveness.
When you hold on to anger, a spiritual sickness comes. The therapy that counters this sickness is confession. So in traditional family fashion, members would share their anger and problems so they would no longer have hold on their lives.
The island life taught me how much life can be lonely and alienating and we lose track of time due to our day to day responsibilities. As I found myself three hours behind Pacific time with little reception in the middle of Atlantic, it was time to reconnect with myself and the nature.
The six days were liberating and quite inspirational. I completely let my tomboy side go wild, with almost no make up (except for the last night out in the touristy part of town). We stayed on the west side of Oahu, which is the complete opposite of downtown Honolulu, a tourist-free zone and a local hangout. Two hikes, daily meditation sessions and lots of fun exploratory photoshoots later, I’m back to 58 degree San Francisco weather. Herro vacay blues!
The first chapter of Hawaii stories covers my first night in town and this beautiful sunset.
Hope you enjoyed the photos. Mahaloday!