Sacrifice, prayer, ritual, and love in Maui

I did this ritual on 1/17/2022 to bring in the new year and honor the legacy of MLK with a peace offering. I can’t even begin to tell you how I was called to Maui—that’s a whole other conversation that involves dreams, conflict, love, depletion, grief, and synchronicities.

Maui nō ka ʻoi <3

So…I’m sitting at my computer screen google mapping campsites and the first site I click is a Heiau. (If you know me and my life, you would be like, of course guru google lead you to this Heiau!)

I come to find out Heiau means spiritual site. There isn’t a ton of information about this particular place. It was 2 prayer sites for 2 different chiefs. One of them being King Kamehameha I. He was the first to use this site for human sacrifice to the god of war, healing, and strength: Ku-ka-ili-moku.

And for whatever reason it was calling me there. Immediately. in that one glance and click.

I came up with a ritual to create a lei with cranes to offer to Ku and the site. I spent all week preparing—throwing the I Ching (peace to conflict—Peace is literally a story about a king who climbs a mountain to give an offering to the heavens…and if that isn’t a specific enough sign, not sure what is), folding cranes, writing prayer, poem, or sacrificial intention of letting go, and alter preparation.

I am not a fan of human sacrifice but my mentor Woo asked me this week—what are you sacrificing to make room for this strength you are asking for?

Sacrifice:

Perfection, shoulds, and not good enoughs

Judgements on myself and others

Concept of good and bad

Societal standards of beauty, wealth, and health

My prayers consisted of truth, more beauty and creativity, and because I was talking to the god of war, allyship with the disruption I take part in and more strength needed for the many fights I am apart of for peace, love, and justice.

I wore a Coatlicue bandana my dad gifted me. Something I brought with me on this trip but didn’t know why. Coatlicue is the Aztec goddess of the Earth. She’s the creator and destroyer. She has teeth and snakes and is just as fierce and beautiful looking as Ku.

My favorite part of this trip was I wearing this bandana up to the site and keiki (children) walked up to me (they weren’t afraid!) and said “Auntie, this used to be an old, beautiful village. Be brave Auntie—we don’t go up there no more. Tell us what you see when you get up there, Auntie. We’ll play here.”

When I got back down, I told them I saw the stones where the temples used to be. I said the ocean was sooo blue. and the clouds felt so close I wanted to nap on their softness.

I told them that what came out of my mouth when I got to the top was: “I’m ready and afraid to let old stories holding me back leave my mind…I’m ready and afraid to celebrate all that has brought me here…I am ready and afraid to mourn all the loss…I’m ready and afraid to forgive…” and I sang Ho’oponopono (Hawaiian forgiveness prayer) until I had no more tears left to shed.

They smiled, walked me to my car, and said, “see ya later auntie.” And kept playing.

And all I could think about in that moment where these kiddo-angels—if only we addressed each other as family and took the time to listen to each other’s stories, we might be much more connected to each other and the world.