Archive for May, 2008
Ritual.
Within the next week, ‘Iokepa and I are heading to Nashville, Tennessee–with a purpose. That purpose is the celebration of the marriage of our son, Sam and our new daughter, Elizabeth.
In many ways, this takes me into new territory–breaks new ground. This is my first-born son taking on the responsibility and commitment of a new family–or rather extending the tentacles of several existing ones. It is happening in the home of “Country Music,” another unfamiliar cultural venue. We are enormously enthusiastic on all counts.
The young couple are creating their own ceremony, writing their own vows, paying their own way, and promising not to offend any of the very mixed cultural ancestors who may be in attendance. They are, in fact, personalizing a very old ritual indeed.
Naturally, ritual lay at the heart of both ‘Iokepa’s culture and mine. It is the message which Return Voyage, in its heart of hearts, celebrates: The voyage home to our deepest spiritual, cultural, and community connections.
And ritual–in an era that typically celebrates individual celebrity at the expense of shared responsibility–is often dismissed, maligned, or ridiculed. It’s a mistake. Ritual is the glue that affixes us–to one another, to the seen and unseen. Ritual is what makes us whole.
‘Iokepa explains his aboriginal Hawaiian take on ritual, simply.
“We live from breath to breath. This breath is all we have. We offer gratitude for that gift. Gratitude creates ritual.”
The kanaka maoli had a specific chant and hula for every single night of the year–365 of them. Every moon phase had its unique ritual. The community gathered at the top of their sacred heiau–and collectively they offered (and offer still) their gratitude.
Sam and Elizabeth, a very modern young couple, who nonetheless characteristically share with one another the deepest sense of responsibility for all that they see, hear, and can affect in their enormously inclusive world, have, with their wedding in Nashville, invited their diverse community of friends and family to step into their ritual of gratitude.
It’s appropriate. These two have a great deal to be grateful for–not least of which is the love of one another. And ‘Iokepa and I are grateful to be part of their ritual.
What’s a Nice Jewish Girl…?
I realized (when I ended my last Ever-Changing Page entry, to my own surprise, with a Yiddish word) that the time has come to declare myself front and center. To answer the implicit (and often explicit) question: Why is a decidedly Jewish woman speaking on behalf of the Native Hawaiian people?
Let me be very clear on this one: I met ‘Iokepa Hanalei ‘Imaikalani on a vacation ten and a half years ago. I knew nothing about his aboriginal culture, his indigenous people–let alone their ancestral wisdom. I went to Hawai’i (as many of us do) for a respite from the stresses of a modern life. I went to Hawai’i to lay on the beach, swim, get a tan, and do almost nothing else.
Two days later I met ‘Iokepa. Our souls met first. Our more human forms took a bit more time. I fell deeply in love with the man; I felt the clear call of that elusive word, “Destiny.” But I could not fathom how his work could possibly include an observant Jewish woman, a career ambitious writer from Baltimore.
A couple of very challenging years into our joined lives, I still asked (and continued to be asked), “Why me?”.
We’ve been together more than a decade, now. This Return Voyage journey, and the participants in every single gathering, have shed light on that question.
‘Iokepa is the Hawaiian. Only he speaks of the spirit of the culture, of the ancestors who guide and inspire our every move. I am the Jewish woman–deeply connected to an another ancient aboriginal culture who, because I am steeped in another wisdom tradition, understands deeply so much of what the kanaka maoli know and value.
At the most primary level, we share (and treasure sharing) the similarities: The essential faith; the human-divine connection that lies in our breath; the inviolability and power of the vibrations sent to the ears of God on our ancient languages; the reverence for ancestral lineage and tradition.
From the get-go, ‘Iokepa (who was ignorant, too, of my traditions, when we met) insisted that I stay the path, live my culture, and observe my rituals. I have done just that. He has been at my side at Yom Kippur; I have been at his at ancient heiau. We share the deepest respect for the age, depth, and vitality of our spiritual traditions. We look for places where they meet–but we don’t overstate them, or pretend that we are, who we are not.
And in that lies an enormous power: We believe that this outreach across the divide, that could separate strangers of decidedly different backgrounds, is where the divine is born on Earth.
I am a Jewish woman whose people have known thousands of years of oppression, and a fairly recent effort to exterminate every last one of us. I have said time and again in Return Voyage gatherings: “If there is a single gift of sustained oppression, it is not the ability to claim oneself as a victim. It is the simple refusal to countenance oppression in any shape or form to any people.”
So that is one gift of my Jewishness. I see with eyes that cannot lie, the degree to which ‘Iokepa’s people have been tyrannized by a colonizing culture. I see the homelessness, the ill-health, the addictions, and the dysfunction that accompanies these almost two hundred years of oppression–and I refuse to ignore it, romanticize it, or contribute to the Hawai’i State Office of Tourism’s fiction.
When ‘Iokepa speaks in these Return Voyage Circles rightly and uncomplainingly about the wisdom of his ancient traditions, I speak willingly and well about the pain of modern Hawai’i. While ‘Iokepa sings the praises of his enlightening ancestral heritage, I speak out about the true history that has been distorted by the missionary accounts.
When he speaks of the importance of the breath, the authentic language, the faith–I echo those traditions, and remind our gathering that he speaks for all of us. We are each descendants of indigenous cultures. The gifts are for every one of us to claim.
And so ‘Iokepa and I come together across that seeming insurmountable divide of culture and spirit. We solemnly aspire to live within our marriage, and within our hearts, a possible alternative to the cultural demand that we draw fixed borders around our differences–or even worse, asks us to surrender the gifts that define our differences.
So a single, personal consequence of these eight months of Return Voyage gatherings from Portland to Sarasota is this. Open-minded, open-hearted men and women have continued to sanction ‘Iokepa and my differences–and they have, almost without exception, understood and affirmed the reasons we walk this life together. After ten and a half years, I no longer I ask, “Why me?”