2 September 2023 Wandering into the Future

“We need the help of those who can enlarge our vision and broaden our perspective.  Seek out the advice of those who know you and have a wealth of experience.  Build a network of advisors.  Then be open to new ideas and be willing to weigh their suggestions carefully.  Your plans will be stronger and more likely to succeed.”

Above, shared by kuʻuhoa HK is from Study Notes of the New International Version Study Bible.  

Sounds simple, but when trying to survive, to make sense of new realities after catastrophic loss and changes, itʻs tough.  Thinking back on my life just this past year...Iʻm amazed that Iʻm as "balanced" as I am.  It may be prescribed drugs taken for nerve pain and discomfort, that also have the benefits of alleviating anxiety and depression.  It may be that after a near-lifetime of dealing with situations related to having had polio, and its aftereffects, Iʻm more used to change than I thought.  It may be that, when in the throes of "dealing", one doesnʻt have a whole lot of time to wallow in self-pity, save for when, in-dark-of-night sleeplessness, the mind spins and whirls, asking "Why?".

"Why" may never be resolved to our satisfaction, but with the help and support of loved ones, weʻre able to adjust.  We adjust to losses great and small.  We adjust, and pain diminishes.  Diminishes but never completely disappears.  

And then, again, I happened across the following quote.  I posted it before.  Itʻs from Aeschylus, who wrote Greek tragedies, and lived from c. 525-456 BC.

In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.

 Please note that "awful" in this context may be better spelled "awe-ful", as in full of awe. 

We carry knowledge learned, and it seems, at appropriate times, that knowledge bubbles to the surface.  

A segue...below, yesterdayʻs dawn at Halemaʻumaʻu.  Pinked Maunaloa, and in the distance, to its right, the puʻuʻed summit region of Maunakea, crowned by Kūkahauʻula.  Steams and vapors, in whites and blues,  rise from the floor 

Iʻve come to understand recently, during conversations with friends, information about nomenclature of features at the summit of Kīlauea.  To wit:  Halemaʻumaʻu is the name of the entire floor of the caldera. Though Halemaʻumaʻu has recently been applied only to the active lua that occupies a portion of the caldera floor, in the not-so-distant past, the entire floor was active, with pele (molten lava) erupting at various locations in different styles:  surface overflows from lakes, fountaining here and there, fillings and drainings, etc.  Kalamaʻs map, [a screenshotted portion below] drawn while he was a student at Lahainaluna School in the 1830s labels the summit area "KaluaPele o Kilauea".

In the Pukui and Elbert Hawaiian Dictionary:  lua pele is "n.  Volcano, crater.  Lit., volcanic pit."

Our current understanding is that "Kaluapele o Kilauea" is a descriptor of the thing, the scientific "Kīlauea caldera".  Both phrases apply, but Halemaʻumaʻu is the name of the feature.  Similarly we might call Mokuʻāweoweo, at the summit of Maunaloa, "Kaluapele o Maunaloa".  Kaluapele, a volcanic crater...

For those unfamiliar, Lahainaluna School on Maui [the campus at the top, below], is above (i luna) o Lahaina nei, incinerated on 8 August 2023. 

The Google Earth screenshot below, the image taken on August 12, depicts Māla Wharf at the bottom.  A new subdivision, with some homes unburned though tightly packed, is at the left. the point on the right is partially occupied by a wedge of a sandy old kiawed graveyard.  Many of the homes at the point, on the sandy shore of the fringing reef were burned.

        

Across the street from the cemetery is the great Amida Buddha at the Lahaina Jodo Mission.  The statue remains, but the Mission burned.  A memory:  During a high school field trip to Maui we visited Lahaina and the impressive statue.  And the memory remains.

Wikimedia Commons

The photo depicting subdivisions also shows the concrete-channeled Kahoma stream where it enters the ocean at Māla.

concreting Kahoma

From the US Army Corps of Engineers Honolulu District Website:

"The Kahoma Stream Flood Control project is located in Lahaina on the island of Maui and was completed in 1990. The project was authorized under Section 201 of the Flood Control Act of 1965. Total project cost was $18,500,000 (Federal: $10,840,000; non-Federal: $7,660,000). The drainage basin totals 5.4 square miles. 

"The project consists of a 5,415-foot concrete channel, a debris basin, an offshore rubble apron, three pre-stressed concrete bridges, and related utility relocations. The debris basin design volume is 54,000 cubic yards. The project is designed for standard project flood level protection with a discharge of 15,200 cubic feet per second at the stream mouth. The local sponsor is the County of Maui, Department of Public Works."

Lovely.  A meandering stream, Kahoma [Lit., the thin one] whose muliwai [estuary] was at Māla [Lit., garden], was transformed into a concrete channel more than a mile long.  

A fear is that Lahaina hou, the new Lahaina, will be similarly transformed, with the bestest most updated building codes, so the entire town will be similarly armored to protect against flood, fire, hurricane, tsunami, earthquake, landslide, excessive heat, rising sea levels, and what-lā.  Despite my fears, Iʻm absolutely certain that the resulting town will be incomparably charming.  Or something.

Many of us have become increasingly Risk-Averse.  Alas.  And with that, many have become increasingly prone to file lawsuits to Recover Damages.  Certainly there are times when lawsuits are appropriate, but there are more times when personal responsibility must play a part.

For my part, I was told more than once by physicians and orthotists that I should "conserve" my muscle energy and not walk so much.  That "one day" Iʻd be stricken with Post-Polio Syndrome.  I asked them "When?  When will that day be?"  And of course no one could answer.

So when I retired 10 years ago, I walked.  Two miles every day to Keanakākoʻi and back.  Rain, shine, heat, cold.  Didnʻt much matter.  Sure felt good, all those endorphins coursing.  2 miles x 300 days maybe in a year = 600 miles.  10 years (-) 1 when the park was closed = 9 x 600 = 5,400 miles,  Or so.

Walking, observing seasonal changes, thinking, wondering.  Then, ever so slowly, without much notice, my legs began to fail.  I didnʻt pay much attention.  And here we are abed.  Wandering into the future, unknowns around every turn.  But there too are beloved family, friends, acquaintances who offer support and reassurances.  Gratitudes abound.

And, as we approach ka māuiili o ka hāʻulelau (the Autumnal Equinox), despite every thing and all, we are grateful.  

With aloha, always aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com