The paradox of grief

It was so cloudy when I first moved to Hawai’i, I wasn’t able to see the mountain, Mauna Kea, out very often. When I am able to see it, I am awestruck. It is so big and wide and takes up so much space. When it is out, it seems like it is everywhere. I’ve caught it driving to downtown Hilo, at Richardsons my favorite beach in Hilo, from my parking lot, and from the Safeway parking lot, which I think has one of the best views so far, lol.   

It is the tallest mountain in the state of Hawai'i and makes up about 23% of the landmass on Hawai'i Island (the Big Island). In the Hawaiian creation story, Mauna Kea is said to be kupuna, the firstborn, and therefore considered the piko (navel, center, or beginning) of Hawai'i island. It used to be that only Hawaiian royalty was allowed to go to the summit, which was also used as a burial ground.  

There are also many observatories on the mountain, which is a contentious topic with the Native Hawaiian community, who do not feel that their sacred mountain is being respected or well taken care of. Even now, there are people that live by the entrance to Mauna Kea, protesting and protecting their land.  

I have a lot to learn about the history of this place. It is humbling because there is so much to learn, which brings up big sadness over not having had the chance to be surrounded by this knowledge when I was younger. As happy as I am to learn, I have to grieve what I missed out on. Which is the paradox of grief. It stretches you. The highs of being able to learn my culture are offset by confronting the pain of not having learned this when I was younger.

I am grateful for the opportunity to grow, and just keep hanging on to this ride :)