ohana of red earth

THE ‘OHANA OF RED EARTH
THE ‘OHANA
OF
RED EARTH
written by: Daniel B. Levin
illustrations by: Nathan Mathieu
Andaz Maui at Wailea
3550 Wailea Alanui Drive, Wailea, HI 96753
T: +1.808.879.1234
Design: Nathan Mathieu
Levin, Daniel B.
ISBN: 978-0-9892321-0-4
Copyright 2013 Andaz Maui at Wailea
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying and recording or by any information storage
or retrieval system without permission in writing from the
copyright holder.
This book is dedicated to:
the Honua’ula ‘ohana.
Who founded and cared for this piece of land
from the mountain to the sea,
and infused this property
with their love and passion.
May all who come within its boundaries
be touched forever by its love.
Acknowledgments
Michael Stephens
It is rare in life to meet a person whose vision and guidance
allow you to feel that everything you’ve done has come from
you. Michael, you are that one in a million. You guide but allow
another the freedom to create the vision that is your dream. I
can’t tell you how much you have inspired me.
Susan Terry
I want to thank you for giving me the inspiration for this entire
book. It was your incredible vision that created the initial
story, and it is your amazing openness that allowed the story to
transform into what it is now. Thank you. It is because of your
vision that this entire project started.
Kainoa Horcajo
Your knowledge of True Hawai’i and your openness to allow
me creative license was an unbelievable comfort. Everything we
wanted from the very start of this project was to show respect
to the great culture and heritage of the Hawaiian people. It is
because of you that we were able to do this. Thank you for your
sensitivity, your guidance, and for teaching us about the real
beauty of Hawai’i.
INTRODUCTION
People dream
of a moment like this
their entire lives.
This is the story of one of those dreams.
This one came true.
Some say
it was the fervor of their love for each other,
a love at first sight,
so passionate and deep.
So intimate . . .
it made the land blush.
And, in that moment,
it infused this spot forever with their love.
Others say
the moment they held one another,
the love that lived in this land entered them
and promised
from this moment until the end of time:
all who come to this spot
will feel its love
and succumb to its passion.
Which it was
we may never know.
What we do know
is that all who come here,
to this part of heaven
that fell to Earth,
fall in love.
Their love lives here.
And if you are open,
you will feel it
as you spend time here where they dwelled.
Look around as the music plays,
and the dancers dance the hula,
as the sun sets. . . .
Listen to the sound of the ocean
and the whisper of the wind.
Let it enter you . . .
and invite you
to fall in love.
I fell in love here . . .
with the people
and with the land they walked . . .
this land called Red Earth.
The way of these people touched me.
Their story became my story, too.
I share it now with you.
Perhaps it will become your story, too.
Perhaps . . .
HYATO
(the Stranger on the Boat)
Born the eldest son
of one of the most influential families in Tokyo,
Hyato’s life was blessed in so many ways.
But most of all,
he had a gift.
He was intuitive.
It allowed him to clearly see
where things were
and where they were going.
It also made him very adept
at running his father’s already very successful business.
In the two years he had been in charge, sales had quadrupled.
Attuned as he was to the market, he saw the time coming
when the business would suffocate itself.
When a fish grows too big
in a pond with too little water, it dies.
The business, too, was quickly outgrowing its pond.
They needed to expand.
His father agreed, but had no idea how to do it.
He asked,
“How do you expand
when you have no idea
how far the limitations around you go?”
Hyato answered,
“By testing those limitations.
It means looking fear in the eye and going beyond it.”
The challenge thrilled Hyato.
He decided in that moment
to live life unafraid.
Never one to say no,
Hyato always found a way
to make the best even better,
and he encouraged others
when they felt bogged down
to try something new.
Now it was his turn . . .
he would go to where ocean and sky met
and keep going.
Of course, there were those in his father’s business
who were afraid to do things differently.
When he tried to cross that horizon with them,
it was as if the ocean or sky would swallow them up.
Hyato knew their fear,
and understood it.
But he could not listen to their guidance now.
They were stuck where they were.
To grow,
he needed to pursue this great opportunity
beyond the place where the sun set.
His choice was easy.
Doing the same thing over and over meant suffocation.
Hyato would always say to himself,
“If something isn’t worth dying for,
it isn’t worth living for.”
It hit him
just as the wave crashed against the boat
he sailed past the horizon, yet he was still alive.
Looking back, he could see nothing but ocean.
In an attempt to connect to everything he had left,
he took out his sketchpad and pencils and started to draw.
The images that came to him now were different . . .
nothing like he had even seen or drawn before.
Rooted in something familiar, they were also very new,
as if a new language was starting to emerge within him.
Exhilarated by this new art and the smell of the ocean,
he paused to enjoy the glory of a passionate sky,
and then he saw it
for the very first time.
Lit up by the setting of the sun, the Green Flash . . .
that rare moment
when the sun, the sky, and the water meet
and turn the tip of the orange sun into a flash of green.
He had never seen it before.
And though he had an elegant sense of beauty and style,
nothing he had ever seen compared to this moment.
As the colors of sunset faded in night,
dusk turned to dark.
Hyato adjusted his eyes to the darkening night sky
and could not believe how many stars there were.
Lost in the enormity of two worlds.
Sea and sky.
Boat and Hyato.
They were all that existed now.
He sat in awe.
Looking up,
searching the night sky
to find the stars to navigate his way,
he found what he was looking for . . .
the North Star.
Keeping it to his left side,
he allowed it to guide him east.
The stars and constellations were his map by night,
the sun his guide by day.
The birds,
the wind,
and the power of the waves
became his friends . . .
guiding him.
He listened and felt the swells of the ocean
slap against the bow.
Watching how the boat rocked,
he kept his direction steady.
Day followed night. Night followed day.
Over and over and over again, as the days passed into weeks.
All the while he observed
and drew this language that poured out of him,
as if it had a story it wanted to tell.
And then in the distance, he saw it.
Land.
His calculations had been correct.
He made it past the horizon,
and now he was almost here.
The closer he got,
the more beautiful it became.
His heart raced with excitement.
He was unsure of what lay ahead.
The land was different than he imagined.
It was green and natural,
undisturbed by time.
Long white-sand beaches
stretched out to the blue waters to welcome him to its shores.
Luscious marshes, rolling hills, and mountains
beckoned him into its Eden.
But suddenly, he saw none of it.
All he saw was her. . . .
NAOTO
(Hyato’s Best Friend)
Naoto could not remember
a time when he and Hyato
were not together.
They were born within days of each other
into different families miles apart in Japan.
Accounts by both families
tell the same story:
from the moment they could crawl,
whenever they were in the same area,
they found one another
and became inseparable.
Many days, the boys would be brought
to the nearby park to play,
often in entirely different areas.
But when they would set the children down,
both would crawl,
sometimes long distances,
to find each other.
As the years passed,
they grew even closer.
When Naoto became interested in sports,
Hyato played, too.
But Naoto was a gifted sportsman,
and soon all Hyato could do was watch
and cheer him on from the sidelines.
Naoto seemed destined for greatness
until, in the midst of a competition,
he felt his shoulder pop
and knew it was not good.
Hyato went with him to the doctor
and sat with him through surgery.
He listened as the doctor talked with Naoto.
The bad news was that
Naoto would never be able to compete in sports again.
The good news was that
his shoulder would one day recover.
From that moment, Naoto created a new life,
and never once looked back
or wished things had been different.
He knew everything in life happened for a reason,
and it did no good to question why things happened;
time would one day explain those things.
He needed to discover what was next.
In a spirit of cooperation,
wanting to work in harmony with his situation,
he sat quietly and asked how he could work
with the situation he was given
rather than fight it.
Before he could even finish his thought,
the answer came to him.
From a place deep within him,
buried under the life he had been living,
it emerged.
He would become a chef.
That afternoon,
his life changed.
He found that not only did his village have a Master Chef,
but mysteriously enough, he lived across the road from Naoto.
That same day, Naoto went to him
and asked to become his student.
After a lengthy conversation,
the Master accepted him.
Naoto awoke early the next day
to accompany the Master to the docks.
His first lessons were not in how to cook,
but in how to fish.
Sitting with his fishing rod in hand
Naoto watched his Master catch fish after fish,
while his own hook brought in nothing.
On shore, as they walked to prepare the food,
his Master asked him,
“Naoto, why did you not catch any fish?”
Naoto answered, “Guess I was in the wrong place.”
The Master asked again, saying,
“I was standing right next to you,
and many fish came to me.
Why did none come to you?”
The Master spoke in ways
that were unfamiliar to Naoto.
He would ask questions,
and when Naoto could not answer,
he let the questions remain there unanswered.
Naoto heard the words his Master spoke,
but the Master wanted him
to feel their meanings in his heart.
To live the words,
not just understand them with his mind.
His words were his way of transferring energy,
and the Master could tell that
Naoto was not getting it.
So the Master sent him back to his work.
Long hours of cleaning floors,
lifting containers, and washing utensils.
Months passed,
and Naoto had yet to touch an ingredient.
The day after the full moon,
the Master invited him to fish again.
Naoto was excited.
This time, at morning’s end,
his bucket was full of fish
and he and his Master
laughed all the way back to the eating place.
Naoto went, as he always did, to clean the fish,
but the Master called to him.
As Naoto passed through the kitchen,
a rite of passage came with him.
He never returned to the chores
that moments before were all he had done.
The Master said nothing more about it.
His days were as full now
as they had been before . . .
not cleaning floors,
but attuning himself to his Master
and the art of preparing food.
Focusing on this connection
awoke something wonderful in him.
Smell, taste, and sight all blossomed.
Hard things suddenly came easily to him.
He approached his new life,
not as a novice, but as if he had been doing it for years.
In days,
Naoto was making exquisite dishes
and mixing ingredients that had never before been mixed.
He had become a Master Chef.
His eating place become the talk of the town,
and people came from near and far
to experience the dishes he artfully crafted.
Hyato came with his family
on the evening of the new moon
to celebrate his decision to explore new opportunities
and to let his dear friend know
he would soon be leaving.
Naoto sat with him and listened.
He could feel the excitement in Hyato’s voice
and decided that moment
to leave behind all he had created
and join his friend on the adventure
to the new land.
Many a time
when all that could be seen was ocean and sky,
Hyato thought back on this day.
Naoto had sacrificed all he had become
to accompany him.
But to Naoto, there was no sacrifice.
To him, there was nothing greater
than the bond of friendship,
especially this friendship.
He knew that together,
he and Hyato were stronger
than they were apart.
They welcomed the new direction
life was taking them toward.
MAKAMAE
(The Daughter of the Chief)
She awoke
to the sun shining on her face
and a gentle breeze blowing on her body.
She sat, as she did every morning,
to connect with the land, her people, and the day itself.
But today, her senses told her something.
Everything seemed different.
In her meditation,
she felt an energy
like a powerful magnet pulling her,
drawing her . . .
toward Mokapu beach.
Makamae was very connected.
The ancient gods
and all who knew her
understood that her ways were different.
On this day she told her attendant,
“I have no time today for breakfast,
I must get to the beach.”
As she dressed and went out the door,
no one even questioned her decision.
Every day as Makamae walked by the water,
answers came to her.
By listening to the crash of the waves,
she learned how to better serve her people . . .
especially, the children.
The people of the island lived in families,
and they inhabited the different regions.
Some lived in the mountains, others in the lowlands,
and some right on the shore.
Occasionally, when the Chiefs of the regions disagreed,
tensions would arise.
The families of each Chief would prepare to go to war standing behind their
Chief,
whether they agreed with him or not.
Makamae would come to them in these tense moments
and listen to them.
When she left,
the conflict between the Chiefs no longer existed.
She had a way of creating unity.
Makamae felt no separation
between her and the world around her.
That is what made her such an exceptional peacemaker.
Over time,
the island people created a story.
It was handed down from generation to generation.
The story goes
that Makamae’s essence came from
the place where the mountain touched the earth.
And so, the families of both regions felt that she was theirs.
They made drawings of her.
She was the line
where sea met sky,
day met night,
and mountain touched lowland.
She lived her own life in the same way . . .
as a seamless blend of all things.
Her work, play, and life melted into one another.
So much so that
it was impossible to tell from looking at her
what she was doing.
All anyone could tell
was that happiness and love filled her every action.
As the eldest daughter of a Chiefly lineage,
she had attendants who watched over her
and guided every step she took.
But from afar,
no one could tell the difference
between those she served
and those who served her.
All people were the same to her.
Today, her walk to the beach was different.
She had been told in a dream
that the man she would marry
would come to her from a universe she could not see.
All this time, she wondered what it meant.
Today she knew she would find out. She knew it.
She was running now.
But as fast as she ran,
she could not keep up with the mind
the raced inside her,
making her pace seem slow.
She had thought about this day so often,
prepared herself for this moment,
and now that it was here,
none of her plans made sense.
She was being drawn to him,
and there was nothing she could do now but go along with it.
Only once before had she ever felt anything like this.
It felt powerful. But not like this.
On that occasion,
she had received a special designation
to move freely across the lines that separated people.
Because of her ancestral calling,
she had been chosen to work with the children
and been allowed to move freely across “kapu” lines.
Sharing with them
her love and passion for beauty,
for nature, and for her land.
She taught them of the arts,
and shared her love and friendship with them.
Up until now, she had lived alone,
and spent her time with the children of the island.
As she raced to meet her destiny,
she wondered how her life would change
In moments, she would meet the one
who had come from across the world to find her.
Her heart pounded with anticipation.
She could already feel his love,
caressing her like the gentle ocean breeze.
She knew, no matter what, that it would all work out.
Her purpose was to care for the children
and make their lives better.
And in their innocence,
they asked her, “Where is your kane, your husband?”
She would always tell them,
“He is coming, he is coming.”
And then they would laugh and laugh and laugh.
If the island was a body,
Makamae would be its heart,
and the children of the island would be her blood.
This feeling inside her was not familiar.
Normally calm and relaxed,
her heart raced faster than her stride,
and as she approached the water,
and touched the sand of Mokapu beach,
she saw it.
Far away in the distance,
she saw a boat.
It was definitely not from the island.
Where had it come from,
and was it really heading for her island’s shores?
She turned around
to find the warriors starting to move into position,
beginning to launch canoes into the ocean.
Remembering her dream,
she stared them down.
The boat was headed straight toward her,
and she knew it was he.
They saw each other in the distance
at exactly the same time.
She, a figurine dancing
what he later would learn was the hula.
And he, a silhouette against the vastness of the sail.
From that moment, their eyes never left one another.
As the boat came closer,
she saw him more clearly.
Excitement pounded in her heart as she awaited him.
He came closer still,
and now she was able to make out his features.
Tears of joy flowed from her
as rain pours from a rain cloud.
Tears flooded her cheeks.
He was the man she had seen in her dream.
LOKELANI
(Caretaker of Makamae)
On an island
where everything revolved around the ocean,
Lokelani had never learned how to swim.
The water held no attraction for her.
She felt more comfortable on land
and loved exploring places no one else had ever gone,
discovering spices and herbs
and edible flowers
others never even knew existed.
Doing things no one else ever thought about doing
was what made Lokelani extraordinary.
It was the blueprint for how she lived her life.
From the way she prepared food
to the way she cared for people,
she never thought about how hard it would be
or what she would gain from it.
She thought only about how to do what needed to be done.
She was surprised when she learned
that her ways troubled the elders.
They were uneasy about some of the things she did.
Like not going into the water.
They believed that balance came
from the experience of all things.
Earth brought abundance.
By nurturing the land, the people were nurtured.
The mountain taught strength.
Being on the mountain, the spirit became unshakable.
Air was life itself,
a sacred symbol of freedom.
Water showed acceptance,
flowing everywhere.
And fire was energy and passion,
and people could not live without it.
They assumed the water scared her
and told Lokelani she needed to overcome her fear
and learn how to swim,
especially because she was the caretaker of Makamae.
They needed to know that if Makamae went into the water
and something happened,
Lokelani would be able to rescue her.
Lokelani looked them straight in the eye
and told them she did not fear the water.
“Be careful of assumptions,” she said.
“Lack of interest does not equal fear.
If Makamae ever needs anything, I will be there.”
People knew that Lokelani’s word meant everything to her.
The elders did, too.
So when she told them,
“Never worry about Makamae,”
they believed her and never questioned her again.
She loved people and tried to make a difference in their lives.
This was true of her relationship with Makamae,
and it was also true of the way she treated everyone.
The elders liked Lokelani’s strength
and the fact that she stood up to them.
In their moments together,
she taught them an important lesson:
to ask questions and never assume anything.
They had initially come out of concern,
but the more time they spent with her,
they saw in the way she treated them,
the responsibility she took for the well-being of all.
They were amazed,
because without ever going into the water,
she knew its ways.
Her kindness flowed to all,
judging no one,
but rather treating all with love and respect.
But make no mistake about it . . .
Lokelani’s way was her own.
In her youth, she had been a little rigid,
so the elders sat with her and taught her.
“See how a stick breaks under pressure,
while a blade of grass simply bends.
Strength comes from being fixed.
Transformation comes from being flexible.”
Lokelani understood instantly.
She lived life
trying to find that place of balance
where everything rested effortlessly.
She found it first in the preparation of food,
in the blending of ingredients that never before
had been mixed
to create the perfect taste.
News of her creations
spread island wide, from family to family,
and many came to taste her creations.
Lokelani cared for everyone who came to her.
She taught them to expect only what she was able to give them.
But in every case,
Lokelani gave people more than they expected.
Sometimes it was something big; other times it was small.
But every time people came to her for something,
they left with what they wanted and a little more.
It always made them happy.
A master in the art of serving others,
she trained her mind in the art of memory,
starting with small, easy victories
like the learning of names.
She not only memorized the names of all who came to her,
but the names of their children as well.
Everyone did the big things well,
but it was the little things that made people feel loved.
She focused on doing all the little things,
wanting all who came to her to feel exceptional.
Lokelani’s secret
was that she took care of people
and was genuinely good to them.
She put their happiness above almost everything else.
The things she did for others
were not based on the benefit for her,
but rather on the good it would bring to them.
Because of this,
she did things no one else did,
and everything flourished.
As well known as Lokelani had become
for the food she made,
she knew Makamae needed her now.
She had fallen overwhelmingly in love
with the stranger on the boat,
and Lokelani left everything else to be there for her.
She was always by her side now,
offering an ear to talk to
or a shoulder to cry on,
ready to help however she could.
But there was really not much Makamae needed.
Everything about the meeting with the stranger
brought with it a blessing.
As big as it was,
Makamae and Hyato were bigger.
HYATO MEETS MAKAMAE
(Becoming the Patriarch and Matriarch of the ‘Ohana)
The excitement Hyato felt
as he saw land
overwhelmed him.
His passion and determination had not let him down.
Humble and gracious,
he fell to his knees to give thanks
to the winds that blew him,
the creatures of the sea that swam beside him,
and the sun and stars that guided him.
He had done it.
He had made it beyond the horizon of his fear
and had discovered a new land.
So many times
he was tempted to give in
to the perils of the trip,
the feeling of hopelessness and despair,
and the thoughts of others in his head
that told him this was impossible.
But each time,
as he was about to abandon his dream,
he felt drawn—
no, more than that—
he felt compelled,
to continue on
by a vision of a woman he did not know
and a drawing he drew over and over again.
He had no idea
what it all meant
. . . until now.
With his boat now resting on land,
he watched as she danced . . .
exquisite movements
he had never before seen.
And when she turned her back to him,
he could not believe
what his eyes saw . . . .
There it was
tattooed on her left shoulder:
that image,
the one he had drawn
in the boat
over and over again.
He had set out to find a new land
to expand his father’s business.
What he discovered
was his destiny.
In that moment he knew
what Makamae had already understood
as his boat approached.
They were created to be together.
They laughed
at the language the other spoke,
both trying so hard to communicate
not only
the depth of the feelings
they shared,
but simple things as well.
When all else failed,
there was one language
that everyone knew,
and they found that language easily.
Makamae had seen this moment in her dreams,
and she instantly melted into Hyato’s arms.
The magnet that had drawn them together
did not let them part.
From her lips spontaneously came
a part of a longer chant
used to solidify the mating of a chiefly pair:
“O ‘imi’imi, o nalowale a loa’a
Loa’a ho’i ka hoa e.
Pupu’u ako o kea nu o ka Ho’oilo.”
(There was a seeking of the lost, now it is found,
A mate is found,
One to share the chills of Ho’oilo, -the wet season.)
NOA
(The Firstborn —a Son)
Noa was not one of those people
who entered the world timid and scared.
From the moment he was conceived,
he knew exactly what he wanted
and trusted that life would give it to him.
He did not plan for the future
or worry about the past,
but rather,
he lived passionately . . .
immersed in the moment he was in,
leaving nothing of himself behind.
He lived with this thought:
The moment you arrive, you are right on time.
When he ate, he ate.
When he drank, he drank.
When he was with people, he was one of them.
And when he was alone, he was fully alone.
He lived without hesitation,
enjoying everything the way it was.
And he lived as if everything he wanted
already belonged to him.
He was handsome, fit, and muscular;
but it was the softness of his heart
that woman loved most about him.
But make no mistake.
In a land of manly men,
Noa was a man’s man.
Among the warriors, he was the most skilled.
Among the hunters, he was the most clever.
Among the people of the canoe, he was the fastest.
Even the way he rode the board was different.
While others waited for the perfect wave, Noa saw each wave that came as perfect.
He rode waves, paddled the canoe,
ran the hills and cliff dived from high heights . . .
not to achieve something,
but to live life for the sheer enjoyment of it.
When competitions were held
among the families of his island,
or the people of other islands,
Noa easily won.
Many men would have continued on,
making a name for themselves
in their complete domination over young and old.
But instead, Noa choose to race no longer.
Having achieved all he could,
he preferred now
to train the people of the island.
He taught them to perfect their bodies and minds,
and shared with them the way of the gods:
to have reverence for all of life.
When the island people raced in competitions,
he was there with them,
encouraging them along the way.
When they entered the sea to fish,
Noa was with them beforehand
to honor them and pray for an abundant catch.
Many came to him to learn his ways,
for they wanted to excel at the start of Makahiki,
the New Year festival,
and the competitions that occurred.
He taught them
in the ways of spear throwing, wrestling,
holua sledding and all contests of strength.
The people left not only stronger in body,
but also in the way of kindness.
He shared with them this belief:
Being first in the race, one won;
Being the first to help others, everyone won.
He had learned well from his mother, Makamae,
as he watched her care for the children of the island.
She loved them all:
the ones others loved,
and the ones no one loved.
Makamae taught him that all children were the same,
and they all needed love.
The island had taught him, too,
how to respect everything just as it was.
Mountain was mountain and could not be sea.
Air was air and could not be earth.
All were beautiful just as they were.
Had Noa chosen to go into business
as early on, Hyato had hoped;
he would have been extraordinary.
His passion for life was contagious,
and when, on rare occasions,
he asked for help,
people gave him way more than he asked.
He had helped so many others
get what they wanted that
they felt privileged to give back to him.
He asked little and gave much,
and the island people started to do the same.
But Noa did not choose
to walk the way of business.
His path was the way of earth and mountain,
of sea and sky.
His board was the one he handcrafted
from the koa, the wood of royalty.
His meeting room was all of creation.
Noa’s mornings were spent exploring the island;
his afternoons, riding the waves;
and his evenings were spent
drinking, dancing and laughing
with the people of the island.
His hand-crafted drinks
had become the talk of the island.
Noa used herbs he gathered
on his morning hikes to the mountain
and mixed them
with tonics he blended
from the fruits of the earth and water.
He let them sit steeping for weeks,
sometimes months,
before he poured them.
As seamlessly as he mixed his drinks,
Noa mixed people, too.
The families of the mountain, and the people of the earth,
the workers on the sea, and the people of the great lineage . . .
all came together at his parties without division.
On these evenings,
the diverse families became one people, one family.
And all felt strengthened by the unity.
Of all Noa’s many talents,
bringing people together
and creating a feeling of one big family
was perhaps his greatest gift..
LEHUA
(Second Born —a Daughter)
The elders spoke
of an ancient knowledge
handed down verbally
from one generation to the next.
It taught people how to live life
and how to interact with the gods they worshipped.
The gods they spoke of
were not out there,
somewhere distant,
but all around them.
Not as omniscient beings,
but rather as physical elements.
The elders taught the people
to touch, eat, honor, sacrifice,
clothe themselves, hunt,
and live in their gods.
They taught people to see
not cumulus clouds,
but Lono, the god of nature,
and in the breadfruit tree, to see Ku.
With the birth of Lehua,
no ancient knowledge was needed;
people looked at her
and saw beauty and grace
and felt the music that sang through her spirit.
She lived happy inside,
and it radiated like the sun,
illuminating her happiness
to all who came into her presence.
Her every step
was a dance of life
to a sophisticated beat of music
that she brought into the world.
As beautiful as Lehua was outwardly—
and she was exceedingly beautiful—
the music that flowed from deep within her
gave her a grace that was her real beauty.
In her,
in the way she moved,
one felt a reverence
for everything in her life—
her land, her people, and the ancestral gods.
The elders often
spoke of the one who would be coming
born with a smile,
and the ability
to deeply touch people’s hearts
with just a look of her eyes.
Many on the island felt that
Lehua was the one of whom the elders spoke.
Her kind, soft eyes
embraced people with a love
that penetrated into their core.
Her full sensuous lips
sang songs that people had never heard.
There was a song in all she did,
and the music that came through her
soon became the music of an island
and a people.
Not limited to a particular sound,
her songs melted hearts and made people dance.
And when she danced,
her hair, which reached down below her waist,
swayed with her every movement.
Hula was born in her . . .
not because she wanted to create a dance,
but rather,
the songs that came whimsically from her lips
also moved through her body.
The way she moved her hands drew pictures;
the way she moved her legs told stories—
all of which made life seem more alive.
But even more spectacular
was how a simple move of the hips showed yearning.
A sway of the arms, fondness.
And a tap of the foot, strength.
The movement of the wind
or the crashing of a wave
was all told through gentle movements
of her arms, legs, and hands.
A new language was created.
The stories she told were her stories,
and the stories of her land and of her people
and of the ancestral gods they loved.
Over time,
the men and woman of the island came to her.
They listened to her songs and learned her music.
They watched the beauty and grace
of the movements of her dance,
and learned from her how to dance.
As the moon grew and waned
and grew and waned again,
the people of the uplands
and lowlands
began to sing and dance, too.
Each told their own story,
and hula became an expression of the people
and of the land they loved.
Each day
as the sun started to set on the horizon,
Lehua would come
to a certain spot where the land and the ocean met,
and tell her stories.
At first, the only ones who listened
were the earth, air, and water.
But as time went on,
more and more people would gather—
men, women and children—
to watch her dance the hula
to this eclectic new style of music.
And honor the setting of the sun.
This tradition still lingers
on the same exact spot where Lehua once came.
Timeless music beats
as men and women dance the hula.
Many believe that
if you look closely or listen carefully,
you will see Lehua there among the dancers.
LONO
(The Third Child)
On the day he was born,
the different elements of nature
came one by one
in a festival of gods to welcome him.
Each performed miraculous feats,
one more spectacular than the other,
and each celebrated his birth
as if their king had returned.
The clouds, puffy and full,
rumbled through the sky,
rolling and wild
like children running to see a long-lost friend,
unable to contain their joy.
The water danced
each step, shaking the ocean floor,
making the waves toss and tumble
and crash with reckless abandonment
into a once-peaceful shoreline.
It was as if the ocean was trying to wake the land up
so they could celebrate together.
But the land was already awake.
The moment Lono was born,
the mountains and plains
flourished uncontrollably,
bearing sweet herbs and shady trees.
Tiny but beautifully colored flowers
popped up on the hillside.
Vegetables ripened on the vine and in the field,
and fruit trees gently dropped their fruit to the ground.
So auspicious was this moment
that a kukui nut appeared out of nowhere
and landed right next to Lono where he lay.
Immediately, the nut was opened
and its oil was applied to his skin.
It is believed, to this day
that this application was responsible
for protecting him from the effect of the elements.
All of this happened spontaneously
at a time when things normally do not bloom . . .
almost as if all of nature knew
what would be needed
for the upcoming celebration.
Some even say that on the day Lono was born,
the sun stopped its course momentarily
and spun in the sky,
making incredible movements
never before seen.
It seemed to those watching
that the sun loosened itself from the sky
and headed to earth . . .
only to swirl back into its natural course.
The whole event lasted only seconds,
but those who saw it
spoke of seeing different vivid colors coming from it,
and talked of a warmth that dried the waters
and touched the heart.
The moment the sun returned to the sky,
light raindrops fell,
and everyone who felt the blessing of the sun
now felt a blessing in the light rainfall.
It is said
that no matter where the people of the island were,
all could see the double rainbow
that spanned the entire island.
Because of all the miraculous things that happened
on the day Lono was born,
the people of the island believed
that the gods who existed in nature
entered into Lono
and made him their guardian.
Indeed, this was true.
As Lono grew,
he became the champion of the environment,
the one who constantly reminded the people
how intertwined their lives were
with the nature surrounding them.
To Lono,
this is what made this land
and the people of this island so special.
They were completely connected to each other.
And he spent his days
reminding all who dwelt here
how special this connection was.
Lono’s dream of keeping the connection
between nature and man strong
was not only for this moment.
He was a visionary
who saw into the future.
He saw a time
when more would come to the island . . .
many more.
Just as his father had come
with a dream from a distant land,
others would come and the island would grow.
It was inevitable now
that the island they knew today
would one day change.
Invaded by people from different lands,
people who would not understand
how deep the connection was to nature.
Keeping the land, ocean, and species of the island protected
had now become his life.
He spent his days reminding
the people of the mountains, lowlands, and water
that who they were was a reflection
of the pride they took
in caring for their home.
Lono gathered the people
of each region
and told stories of the gods.
He shared with them the sanctity of where they lived,
and taught them to honor and respect all things.
He taught them to be alert in each moment,
to bring attention to detail, and give care to all they did.
This was their home,
and he taught them to take care of it.
He showed them how to care for the homes of others
and for the earth.
He taught them how to keep the waters clean
and how to consciously work the land
and protect the freshness of the air.
At Lono’s center
was one simple thought:
What can I do to help this sacred piece of earth
I have been blessed to live on
remain clean and unpolluted?
His thought spread like wildfire,
and soon the people of the regions
not only began to feel the same,
but to initiate the changes needed
to make this a reality.
The gods of nature
that entered Lono at birth
now smiled deep within him.
This sacred land
would be safe
for a few more years.
ZENU
(The Fourth Child)
Over the years,
Hyato returned to Japan
to build the import/export business
that had originally brought him to Hawai’i.
The people in Japan loved the exotic Hawai’ian goods,
the woods from the mountain,
the crops from the harvest, and the sugar cane.
But to Hyato’s surprise,
they also loved the relaxed style of clothing
the people of the islands wore,
and they found a welcome home
in the faster-paced Japanese culture.
On his return from Japan to Hawai’i,
Hyato loaded his boats with the beautiful silks
of his father’s company.
There were gorgeous colors and beautiful patterns
that had never been seen outside of Japan,
and the island people were ecstatic
about the opportunity to have them.
They crafted these beautiful fabrics
into a new style of clothing
and wore them to festivals and celebrations.
The vibrant colors made them happy.
As his boat pulled up to the shore,
Hyato saw the people of the plains celebrating,
dancing in the colorful fabrics of his father’s mill,
and he smiled.
He wondered what they were celebrating.
It became clear the moment he saw Makamae.
She was pregnant and about to deliver their fourth child.
The people were celebrating to welcome in the new spirit.
One of the other things
Hyato brought back with him to Hawai’i
a small statue
of the laughing Buddha.
Sitting with his big belly
and an even bigger smile on his face,
the Buddha had been Hyato’s favorite
from the time he was a child.
Zenu was born
a couple days later.
His eyes were deep and full of wisdom,
his face wore a natural smile,
and when he laughed,
it was contagious—
as if the whole world laughed with him.
His bald head
and round full body
looked exactly like a baby version of the statue
Hyato had just brought back of the laughing Buddha.
Zenu was different
from the other children in many ways.
Born with an old soul
and an ability
to understand people,
he came in already wise.
Somehow he was able to anticipate
the needs of the world around him
and deliver it before ever being asked.
He had a photographic memory,
and once Zenu met people,
he never forgot them.
He remembered every detail of their lives,
what they liked and didn’t like,
and he understood them
and the way they needed things to work.
It was amazing that he could do this with people,
but it also happened
with the land and the waters.
At first the village people thought he was crazy
when he told them
the earth wanted different crops
planted in different places.
It took time for them to agree,
but one by one they did,
and the harvest in the years that followed
was the largest in the island’s history.
When these record harvests came in,
the people of the plains wanted to know
how Zenu knew what he knew,
and so he taught them.
He spoke to them, saying,
“Everything in the world has a voice,
and I have simply learned to listen
to what each thing and person says.”
Listening taught him attunement.
When he was attuned,
he heard the voice of the water,
the hills, and the plains;
and they taught him
the way in which all things flourished.
Guiding the island people in the art of listening,
he taught them to first honor each other’s voices—
to not only hear what others said, but to listen.
Once they listened to each other,
it became easy for them
to listen to the voice of nature itself.
Soon, they, too, were able to see and feel
what the land and ocean wanted;
and when they planted what the land asked to have planted,
their crops grew abundantly.
Zenu had a way with people,
but his real gift came
from his ability to separate himself from them
and just watch and listen.
He discovered that there was an order to the universe.
The sun did not rise at night,
nor did the ocean flow from the sky;
and when the ten thousand things
cooperated with this order,
they not only prospered . . .
but they became happier.
Zenu became a master in
the way of order.
He loved the details,
for he saw in them
the reason why everything worked.
He noticed over time that
if one thing was out of place,
everything suffered,
so he spent his time
bringing order to a world
that sometimes seemed to be without order.
Wherever he dwelt,
the energy of that place
felt sacred.
Sometimes all it took was rearranging an angle
or moving a stone;
he could feel what each situation needed
and helped it to manifest.
A perfectionist
in an imperfect world,
Zenu found his peace
in the precision in which life operated.
In knowing that all things in the world
were a part of a plan,
and that when the plan worked,
everything helped make the other work.
Beauty became realized
when everything was restored to its natural place,
allowing the natural way of the world to work seamlessly.
This order was timeless,
and when people engaged with it,
things became simple and natural.
Conflict lessened,
happiness reigned,
and the vital energies of the island people soared.
Zenu was able, through the art of attunement,
to find auspicious places for rituals,
to find the best places to rest,
and strangely enough,
to find the best place on the island to fall in love,
which just happened to be—
without his knowing it at the time—
the very same spot where Hyato met Makamae.
Everything flourished.
Places of power were clearly established,
and nature was happy.
He came to understand
that when things in the world are in order,
the people flourish, too.
THE ‘OHANA OF RED EARTH
(Reminiscences)
As Hyato sat in the ‘Ohana Room
and looked out over his family,
a big smile came to his face.
Little had he ever imagined
that day when he first set sail from Japan
that all of these blessings would be his.
In fact, there were those who said
he would never make it past the horizon.
Sitting here now
among the smiling faces and sounds of laughter of his family,
Hyato barely heard any of it.
Lost in his thoughts,
his mind drifted back
over the years that had brought him here.
His eyes went to Makamae, his beloved.
He had traveled thousands of miles to find her,
and the moment he saw her he had fallen in love with her.
He was more in love with her now than ever.
His eyes continued around the room,
and he found each of his children.
He had been blessed with exceptional children.
Each in their own right,
engaging and passionate,
energetic and fun.
Their lives had touched so many people.
The love and respect they each shared with all they met
went beyond friendship.
The people of this island had become his family.
As he scanned the room,
he looked at each person
and was filled with love.
When he had left Japan,
he had left his family.
It was the biggest hardship of an extremely hard journey.
Family was everything to him,
but he saw now that he had not
lost his family, he had created a bigger one.
I watched Hyato as he sat in his family room,
and saw the gleam in his eye.
I knew how thankful he was for this time
with his wife and children and the people of this island.
Looking closely at him,
I could see something more.
Hyato knew this was just the beginning.
That look in his eye
told of his children falling in love
and one day getting married.
Hyato was ready for grandchildren now,
but he would happily wait.
Now was the time
to enjoy each moment
he had to be with each one of his children.
Grandchildren would come soon enough.
As he looked again around the room,
he saw me looking at him.
He winked at me and smiled.
The house he had created
had become exactly
as he envisioned it:
a place where people from all walks of life
would come together
and become a part of a larger family.
His family . . . .
the ‘Ohana of Red Earth.
For all time,
all who came to this place
now would not only know its story,
but continue to write it.
The first people to read this book asked,
“Who is the voice telling the story?”
It feels only right for me
to share the answer.
I am the first of you,
a guest who came to their home.
They did not know me,
but still they welcomed me
and treated me as if I were a part of their family.
This touched me deeply,
and at first it was hard for me to believe
that such kindness was possible.
So I watched everything,
and what I saw touched me even more deeply.
They treated everyone as they treated me . . .
and they treated me as family.
That is why I wrote this story.
It is meant to be a beginning, not an end,
and I hope that all who come to this amazing place
will continue the story
by adding their experience
of this beautiful place
to its pages.
In this way,
our family will continue to grow
Hyato’s vision will one day embrace all beings.
What he and his family taught me
was how to love,
and how to bring passion into every moment we are alive.
Theirs was a life of beauty and elegance,
or refinement and character,
of inclusion not exclusion.
May your experience of this home
and this place called Red Earth
fill you with love.
May your time here
stay with you
wherever you go.
May it bring you back again and again.
We welcome you into the
‘Ohana of the Red Earth.
About:
Daniel B. Levin
Daniel is the author of The Zen Book and The Zen Life.
He strives to embody his philosophy, not in the practices
he engages in, but in the way he lives. He is the CEO of a
branding company, www.DanielBruceLevin.com and lives
his life helping others get what they want.
Daniel is the father of a beautiful 23-year-old daughter and
lives quietly by the beach in San Diego.
Nathan Mathieu
Nathan is the priciple artist for Nathan Mathieu Design
LLC, www.nmathieudesign.com, specializing in web
design, eCards, ePresentations, logo design, and your
general graphic arts needs. Currently working out of
Atlanta, he brings your vision to the digital and print world.
Nathan married the love of his life, Lisa, in 2004, and is the
father of two boys, Nolan, born in 2009 and Abel in 2012.