Description
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1
HONU MANA: SPIRITUAL POWER
The Strength of Innocence
CHAPTER 2
HONEY GIRL: HONE U`I
Awash in Greed: The Desire to Possess
CHAPTER 3
OAKLEY: MEA ALOHA
The Wisdom of the Heart: Giving and Receiving Aloha
CHAPTER 4
NALUKAI: ONE WHO HAS ENDURED THE STORMS OF LIFE
Intrepid: Navigating Physical and Emotional Pain
CHAPTER 5
PUKALANI: HEAVENLY OPENING
Learning Effortless Joy During the Journey
CHAPTER 6
KUHINA: THE AMBASSADOR
Peace Emanating From Within
CHAPTER 7
GENBU-KŪPONO: THE WORTHY ONE
Mysteries of the Deep: Creation, Duality, and Beneficence
CHAPTER 8
KŪLIHI: HOOKED, BUT GOT AWAY
Caught by our Human Shadow
CHAPTER 9
KEKOA: THE BRAVE ONE
Alone and Together: Surfing the Tides
CHAPTER 10
HIWAHIWA: PRECIOUS, FAVORITE
Holding Life as a Gift
CHAPTER 11
ISABELLA: 40 BARNACLES ON HER SHELL
Body Aging
CHAPTER 12
PĀKOLU: IN THREES; OPERATING ON LIMITED CYLINDERS
Mind Aging
CHAPTER 13
HO`OKU`U: COMES WHEN YOU LET GO
Spirit Aging: The Great Release
INTRODUCTION
I became captivated by turtles from the moment they first began swimming into my consciousness. Their self-sufficiency, soft presence, and innocence astounded me. Their large black eyes and turned-up noses activated my mother instincts, and their wide, oblong bodies won my admiration for their ability to navigate rough seas. I felt a distinct calling from their innate qualities directed to my heart and mind. I paid attention, and believed everything my imagination (or some level of reality) offered. This book has been the result.
The Hawaiian name for these engaging turtles is “Honu.” They are the Green Sea Turtles of the Hawaiian Islands. Though recently endangered, they are making a gradual comeback. For many, Honu represent longevity, safety and mana, meaning ‘spiritual energy.’ Some native Hawaiians think of them as the bearers of good luck and peace, appreciating them as ancestral spirit guides whose wisdom protects the Hawaiians throughout their lives. With such human reverence, it is not surprising that Honu carry such a powerful sense of awe and magic.
While bitter winter drifts into my homeland of Montana, I have migrated far south, snorkeling in late afternoon on the busy south shore of Kaua`i’s Poʻipū Beach. Disappointed because I have been unable to snorkel where I would most like, as the surf is too high, I am taking a short swim and snorkel directly off a small beach instead. Softening in the ocean’s embrace, I release my addictive urge for the “better snorkel,” the amazing encounter. I wonder if I can simply appreciate the great gift of rocking in the ocean as the sun begins to set. My Inner Critic rather rudely agrees:
Right. Can’t you just be unspoiled and happy for what you have?
I do not like that inner critic. It makes me feel guilty and wrong and child-like. So I just breathe it out and lose its echo while trying not to bump into other snorkelers. Instead, I turn my attention to bits of seaweed floating past my mask, and after just a few more paddles, do not see anyone else around me. I am relieved to be alone with the rocking of the ocean and several large parrotfish clothed in neon pinks, greens, and blues, who are eyeing me as—what— a possible rival? I realize I’m wearing a bright pink, green, and blue bathing suit that looks rather like one of them. I can’t help laughing.
While chuckling through my snorkel, I am suddenly aware of something moving off to my left. I turn to look, and a huge Green Sea Turtle is swimming close to the surface right beside me. My first encounter! I’d seen nature specials about them on television but I had never seen one in person. In the midst of shock and joy, I assess the top and undersides of his lovely shelled body. He turns his rounded head with large dark eyes towards me while he keeps paddling along. His top shell is huge and mottled like a brown striated puzzle; his underside boasts a lighter and less detailed yellow-tan. We both keep swimming the same direction, but our heads keep turning toward each other. Soon I stop mentally absorbing him and move into some kind of altered state. I am transfixed, mesmerized. As when humans are in love, suddenly there is no one else except the two of us, who somehow become one. Sounds cease and so do thoughts. We are together for what seems like a long time, bobbing along, plumbing the ocean depths, and taking in each other’s energy.
At least I am taking in his. I can’t say for sure what he is doing. Maybe he is benignly curious, or wondering when this thousandth tourist will be leaving his domain. I know that legally I need to keep 20 feet away from him, but he keeps swimming closer to me, inching sideways as the waves continue to loll through us. I am astounded, and wonder if I could dare feel honored. My rational self says he’s just cruising for food, moving to the next reef. My imaginative and sometimes-trustable intuitive self says he may be communicating with me, drawing close to offer some wise animal medicine. I know that many people are fascinated by turtles and feel some sort of inter-species connection, and I am no one special to be the recipient of such focused attention. But at the same time, we all are. Special. Holding these opposites of being so small on the face of the earth and at the same time so important might be something Honu could teach me about. And more. This first encounter continues to sway with me into the evening, even as I return to shore. I wonder what else I will be learning.
Next stop, the northwest coast of the Big Island. This time I am not swimming, but sitting, comfortably ensconced in a large over-stuffed chair in an open-air atrium, right next to a large outdoor juvenile turtle pond at the spiritually resonant Mauna Lani Hotel. These young Honu have been hatched in Oahu, sent here as babies, and when they are large enough, will be ceremonially released into the open ocean on July 4th, their own Independence Day. Turtles get an Independence Day! What a creative decision on the part of their protectors. I am fascinated by the Honu’s movements in this small habitat; clean, effortless swipes of flat pads of front and back feet, gliding them around boulders and potentially hazardous a’a lava (the “ouch” type) and onto the smoother pahoehoe lava shores so they can bask in the sun. I notice that most of these captive turtles rest with their heads partially submerged, sleepily raising their little bulbs above water and opening bird-shaped beaks only to gulp a bit of air and then sink their heads back into their watery home.
The subtitle for this book, “The Art of Swimming Sideways,” was initially crafted from hours of gazing at turtles who were attempting to land from the open ocean at Puako, now a residential tract but once an ancient ceremonial site, north of Kona, Hawaii. I watched how the incoming tide would push the turtles perilously close to the sharp reef shores. I worried that their heads or legs or even shells might get deeply scratched from the power of the constant wave action. Yet, what I began to notice is that, as each surge carried the turtles closer to danger, they would simply turn their impossibly ungainly-looking oblong bodies sideways and glide around the jagged edges, allowing the continued force of water to carry them effortlessly into shore. Once on shore, though they had to lug themselves up on land, they were comparatively scratch-free, accomplishing what looked to be a huge feat with utter ease. The metaphor did not escape me. If our own turtle nature could only allow the force of life to be what it is, pushing and insistent and constant, and we could learn to flex our own selves to get to shore and rest by finding how to maneuver sideways, we, too, might arrive safe and unharmed. What does it mean to maneuver sideways? That question intrigued me and spurred countless hours of reflection, observation, and swimming with turtles while breathing into the center of my heart.
My heart was further warmed to discover many dedicated turtle research and educational centers throughout the islands: among them are Hawaii Wildlife Fund, Save The Sea Turtles International, Pacific Whale Foundation, South Maui Marine Turtle Stranding Network, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) Turtle Watch program, and Mālama Nā Honu, which has brilliantly given both Hawaiian and English names to many of the Green Sea Turtles who have come onto its radar. Mālama Nā Honu’s main goal is “protection and preservation in the spirit of Aloha,” primarily through education. Several of the names they gave to their various turtles suggested the very themes I wished to cover in this book, so I selected the relevant ones to grace the start of each chapter.
Honu display many qualities that benefit humans. Each chapter that follows explores a different aspect of how turtles teach us what it means to be human and what it means to live well. Anyone willing to engage with the Turtle Medicine of the Green Sea Turtle could experience Honu’s gentle wisdom, quiet love, and pure innocence. Or perhaps your own experience will be slightly different, yet still one that will enliven you as my own has enlivened me. Life can be so hard; we owe it to ourselves to swim into the greatest beauty we can find and harvest the most goodness out of it that we can. And then give back. Time spent recording impressions from observing, meditating with, and swimming near turtles has been a great pleasure. Hopefully, the realizations shared here will enhance your own, and you will discover, or re-discover, your own talent for swimming sideways.
Honu can teach you even when you aren’t with them.
