A PLACE WITH SOUL Yes, Hawaii is the 50th state, but after having spent my life there, I’d argue that it’s only part of America on paper. The real Hawaii is a primal, magical place with a spirit all its own. Not only is it unlike any other state, it’s unlike any place on earth. If you don’t believe me, visit and see for yourself. And when you do, here are a few things you should know.
ALOHA
It means “hello”; it means “good-bye.” And it also means something far more significant than either of those two words. There’s a depth to “aloha” that isn’t easily described because it encompasses an attitude toward life. If a Hawaiian tells you that you have aloha, that’s the ultimate compliment. It’s a spirit of grace, generosity, peace—a kind of spiritual checklist of all that’s good. Ha in Hawaiian means “breath,” and aloha’s literal meaning is “to breathe life.” To have aloha means to share your life energy with others and with all that surrounds you. So how do you get some aloha? By being aware of everyone and everything that’s around you, by caring about it all, and—to cut to the chase—by being cool. You’ll know it when you feel it, and my advice is to feel it as often as you can.
MANA
Mana is similar to our concept of charisma, except the Hawaiians believe that it resides in the natural world as well as in people. For instance, on the island of Kauai, where I spent most of my childhood, everything is alive: the sky and the sea and the land. Even the rocks are alive. It’s like nature on steroids: Everything’s just busting out of the earth. To the Hawaiians, that aliveness—or mana—is the greatest source of power. Strength from rocks.
You can feel the mana all over the islands, but in my opinion it’s especially strong in Kauai. It’s the oldest part of the Hawaiian chain and the only island that was never conquered. If there really was a Garden of Eden, I can easily imagine it being there. Kauai has a vibe all its own, almost as if there’s more oxygen in the air. When you fly over, coming from the land of Wal-Mart and Pizza Hut into a land of rivers, mountains, waterfalls, and ocean, it feels like shock therapy. You know that you’re in a place where many before you have walked on those roads and ridden those waves. According to the concept of mana, everything has a spirit form—but some spots and some people have more than others. Set your radar on high, and you’ll be able to feel it. We all can, but we tend to forget that. Some of the ways to increase your own mana, the Hawaiians believe, are by practicing long, deep breathing; spending more time in nature; and nourishing yourself with good food and exercise.
TI LEAVES
On the days when Pe’ahi is going off so big you can feel the ground shaking 5 miles away, we take a ti leaf with us when we go out to surf. The ti is a special leaf that the ancient Polynesians took on their voyages: You bring the leaf from the shore because the leaf will bring you back to shore. The ti, which is part of the lily family, is a sacred plant. It’s believed to protect against evil spirits and is often placed in, and planted around, people’s homes to encourage good fortune. I always thought I didn’t have superstitions, but it turns out that I do. This is one of them.
AUMAKUA
Every Hawaiian has his own personal spirit guide, known as an aumakua. It’s a protective force that often takes the form of an animal; three common aumakua are sharks, sea turtles, and owls. They’re thought to embody the spirits of an individual’s ancestors, and so it is considered very bad form (not to mention an invitation to bad luck) to eat or harm your aumakua. And conversely, it’s considered a good omen whenever you see one, either in reality or in your dreams. My family isn’t Hawaiian so we don’t have an official aumakua, but if I were to choose one now, I think I’d go for the dolphin.
HAOLE
When I tell you that this word literally translates to “foreigner,” I’m speaking from experience. As the only blond, non-Hawaiian kid in my school in Kauai, I was branded a haole from Day One. It meant that I did a lot of fighting. In time, I earned my acceptance among the locals, but I’ve never forgotten what it felt like to be treated as an unwelcome outsider.
Over the years, I’ve come to realize that there’s also a larger and subtler meaning to “haole.” It’s not a skin color, it’s a brain process. It really means someone whose mind-set is foreign—who behaves in a clueless manner. If you’re unaware and disrespectful of your surroundings, you can devolve into a haole anywhere, anytime. It’s all in your attitude.
