six.
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This newsletter is here to connect you to your five senses and your grief at times when life and death make no sense. Consider it an imperfect “grounding exercise” for the month.
I grew up in Hawai’i, on O’ahu. As kids we ran free through trees and waves. We were taught stewardship for the land and gratitude for what it gave. It was our responsibility (kuleana) to give in kind—to care for and restore the land, traditions, language, and community ecosystem.
Seeing Lahaina taken by fire, seeing friends fend off upcountry flames, hearing stories of missing persons and animals, and the names of aunties, uncles (a term we use for local elders regardless of family connection) and children who were overcome by fire is harder and bigger than I can comprehend.
There is work to be done right now. The work feels good, productive. I worry for when everything slows, the dust settles, and what’s left to do is grieve. Where does this grief begin? How can it end?
Today I feel far away. I see aloha and understand it better than before (the word is sturdier, more resilient, braver). I smell the memory of home’s flowers, loam, and brine. I hear stories, I listen, even if it’s difficult. I taste remorse for mistakes made.
FEEL - For the Maui Families
“Ancient Hawaiians understood that it was appropriate and pono (righteous) to express overwhelming emotions at the loss of someone close in heart and spirit, and to do so in the presence of others, such as one’s ohana.” - Nana I Ke Kumu Vol. 3
This gofundme directly supports individuals and families impacted by the fire. There are many ways to give: by sharing this doc, donating, sharing stories, and keeping Maui in your wishes and prayers.
SEE - Dear Travelers
A woman implores the viewer to save the outdoors. Her solution: go outdoors. Be in nature. Remember the beauty. Fight for it. Don’t let what’s out of sight, be out of mind.
+ Reading Recommendation: Braiding Sweetgrass
SMELL - And So Will Our Sorrows One Day
Saline, “salt up the nose” memories of the ocean carry a breadth of emotion. Equal parts sorrow and joy, peaceful and powerful, the ocean gives and takes. Watch or listen.
HEAR - Puamana // Irmgard Aluli
Tutu Irmgard, my half-brother’s tutu (grandma in Hawaiian), wrote this song about her family home, where a palm tree was planted for each child on the road leading to the house, where moonlight sparkled on the water, the sea whispered, and the trees rustled in conversation. It is a love song to Lahaina, tying home and heart to the land, to a beloved home that has been lost.
TASTE - A Homesteading Collective Returns to its Roots In Rural Maui
A group of friends return to their ancestral lands, finding traces of those that came before and past lives lost to an evolving island. The artifacts found give clues to how they lived, ate, and made a home.
GRIEVE (and hope) - From Despair to Possibility with Rebecca Solnit
Solnit radicalizes hope as a belief, a promise, and a call to action (specifically in the face of climate crisis).
Love this print? It’s for sale to support Maui survivors!
Iam Tongi covers IZ: “Starting All Over Again”
The Daily: Listen to a survivor’s story