The air, when you walk off the plane in Hawaii, doesn’t so much hit you as hold you. Hit you is what the air does in summertime Sacramento when you break the seal between the air conditioned inside and the flame-broiled outside.
First the tropical breath teases its way into the pressurized cabin; then it dances around your feet and surrounds you.
It is a trust circle that says lean back and I will catch you.
All the elements of aloha are present in that moment:
“alo” — sharing, in the present
“ha” — life, energy, breath
The air says carry this spirit with you.
And then breathe.
2 responses to “The Air of Aloha”
Lovely, absolutely lovely.
Thanks, El. I’m going to have to get a UTO box!