The Storm Also Rises

A short letter about what's happening in Hawaiʻi

Flooding everywhere, a billion+ dollars in damages including lost homes, farms, and counting, and 2,000+ tons of debris removed from north shore oʻahu as of this writing. The wake of two Kona low storm systems ravaging our island chain; the radar shows long green and red fingers dangling along Maui warning of flash floods for a handful of hours more until we can say the fury has finally passed.

Certainly a person can feel the size of a flea when the rain is beating us sideways and our streets run rivers of mud washing cars off their wheels. We can be thankful for more than 230 rescues pulling people from the water. And also hold in our hearts the 71-year old Maui woman who was swept away by Iao river currents.

For the many people who asked, I thought to share a link to relief funding- the Hawaiʻi Community Foundation and the Hawaiian Council, two of many worthy sources serving all islands. Lāhui Foundation workers and volunteers are currently bulldozing and shoveling mud from the roads in Haleʻiwa and Waialua. They’ve organized food and supplies for local residents, setting their main distribution hub at the distillery near our Old Waialua sugar mill.

29 hours of lost power makes us one of the luckier ones. I lost food but not a home; my fridge on the brink of resuscitation and hopefully will be fixed soon. Weirdly, like with all disasters, life marches on. My two jobs calling–did you know we voted on some pretty cool things for this organization I volunteer for, headquartered in faraway Chicago. They’ll streamline our planning, set us up for future success. It feels odd to carry on like everything is okay, yet doing the jobs you’ve been assigned brings grown-up comfort in our strange wider world. Plus parenting, navigating our significant personal life changes, etc., we’re humming along but to an atypical, discordant score.

Waterfalls cascade down our Koʻolau mountains, evidence of our Kona Low storm systems passing through

Still, on the other side of these mountains, our islands’ recovery embarks. This will not be a sprint but a marathon. And in our world full of chaos and unpredictability, my heart overflows with love in response to your caring and kindness. Even if it feels like cognitive dissonance. People far away go through this all the time. They lose power and homes, some because of natural disasters, some man-made, and no one blinks, except for the ones closest to them. We wonder what little step could make a difference.

I think you and I, we can make a difference. By sharing our hearts and awareness. Our dollars if we have them. Our time if we can. It comes back to living and centering love, to wake up and deciding to share it with one another, in any way that’s possible. There is no act too small that can move the needle towards caring, especially when we think we can’t. Please don’t give up (and yes pep-talking myself). Thank you for your grace with my overthinking mind and overwhelmed heart.

Love,

Sunnywave