The Kaona of Rain

It rained last night. 

I can't verify it, but in my head it's only rained twice on hula night. The first time it rained, Kumu gathered everyone and spoke about how we had turned the ritual of hula into a routine. That we had become lazy and needed to remember why we dance. We needed to remember to be present, both physically and mentally or spiritually. That class stayed with me. I think about it frequently.

Like I said, it was raining that night. The rain was washing away the malaise our class was experiencing as a whole, giving us a new chance to reconnect with hula, and each other in class; a clean puka to dance in.

That was the last time it rained on hula night, until last night.

It poured on the way to hula. I knew it meant something. Just like last time, it was a sign, an `ōuli if you will. Something was being washed away, making room for something new.

We're getting ready for a Ho'ike Nui 'Elua. 

Four years ago at this time we were preparing for Ho'ike Nui `Ekahi. It was an amazing experience to dance with so many of my hula brothers and sisters. But most of the time I was really disappointed in myself. I was in the back rows for most of the pieces we danced. I knew it was because I wasn't giving my hula dancing the respect it deserved. I wasn't practicing enough. I was getting by. I was disappointed not with the spot that Kumu had given me, but rather because I knew I wasn't doing my best. I knew I could do better but I wasn't doing it.

Last night's rain reminded me to dance harder, practice more. Last night's rain reminded me that I feel great when I dance well. I feel great when I practice. Dancing doesn't come naturally to me. I know that I struggle with learning a dance. I know I'm stronger at memorizing chants and pules than I am at picking up a new dance. But when I do get it, when I do nail that particular move, my dancing changes. I'm happier. I'm more confident. I don't throw anyone off.

It took the rain to remind me that I can do this. I just have to do it.