Ritual Rain in Kapalakiko

I know this to be true: It never rains on hula night.
Don't ask me how. Just take me at my word. I know a lot of strange things and that which I don't know is rarely filled in with inaccuracies; hyperbole for sure, but never lies.


It may rain day of. It may rain after I get home. It may even rain during class, but it's never rained going to class or coming home - until last Wednesday.

As I was driving to class in the rain I thought 'this has got to be a sign.' Turns out it was.

Last class Kumu talked about (and I'm paraphrasing, not using his words exactly) that we've kind of found ourselves in a hula rut. Week after week we follow the same pattern; we go to class, warm up, dance, have table time, dance and then we go home. We have become lazy about showing up on time. We aren't fully present while in class.

What was once ritual has become routine.

I totally agree. Sometimes I miss class because I have a legitimate reason - I'm away for work or Hubby has a deadline on a story he has to get out and can't watch the kiddies. Sometimes I don't have a good excuse and just feel like playing hooky or watching The Middle. Sometimes my absence falls into a gray area of legitimate. I spend so much time at work and sometimes have overnight trips that I feel guilty for not spending enough time with my kids. Hubby says it's fine and I should go to class, but sometimes I just can't tear myself away from my babies.

Missing class hurts. It hurts me because I miss out on a night of practice, a night of instruction, a night of spending time with a great group of people I wouldn't ever have gotten to know were it not for hula. Not going to class hurts the rest of the class as well. I notice when people are missing. I'm sad when people leave. We need to be able to feed off of each other and dance as one. We can't do that when parts of us are missing. Going to class to learn from Kumu doesn't just make us better dancers. It makes us stronger as a class.

It's something I've come to count on. It's something I've come to crave. There's an intangible "something" I miss when I'm not in class.

Last Wednesday's rain washed away the routine and gave us the opportunity to start anew.

Going forward I'm excited to be able to say "it never rains on hula night, except for that one time . . . . "

February Wordle