Did you know I’m in Hawaii?

“Why I am here?”, a question for posterity though basically unanswerable, is something that I ask myself and then dismiss on a regular basis. The questions come and go. The fact is that there really isn’t much happening here on Lana’i that would trigger a coherent thought to expound upon. I’ve gotten into a routine at work and when I wake up in the morning, each day is just one beauty after another. It doesn’t matter if it is cloudy, sunny, rainy or clear. Night and day, the light here and the literal proximity and access to all the elements of earth, sky, air and water are an immediate wonder. The vibrancy of this place is enough to keep you in an expanded state. Bouyant. The views never get old and that alone is enough to make me giggle as I gaze slack jawed at the same views again and again. I ofter often shake my head as I repeat to myself, “I’m in Hawaii. I’m in Hawaii? I’M IN HAWAII!”.

And, yeah, I am in Hawaii. And, why? And, to what end? And, for how long? And, why wonder? Staying in the present moment has never been so rewarding. Yet, my curiosity niggles at me. What am I doing here? Why?

I was talking to someone today who is also a “transplant” about this sensation of being dropped by fate onto another planet in a parallel universe. Truth be told, the majority of the population on Lana’i is transplanted. There are not very many native Hawaiians and certainly no one who is “pure” Hawaiian. The “locals” are primarily Philipino and Japanese. These 2 groups are from families descended from the plantation workers who arrived when this really was the Pineapple Island. They are hard groups to break into, which leaves the real ‘transplants’ = white people. In this case, the transplant community really feels like the ex-pat communities that I found in my European travels. I don’t think that I’ve expressed in writing that I think that I would feel more comfortable and at home if I’d moved to Mexico. Hawaii is not the United States regardless of political affiliations. Hawaii is clearly part of Polynesia, and in Lana’i’s case, very un-western. So, why am I here?

Good question.

AND, at the same time, a moot point. Why are any of us here? Aren’t we all really transplants? What the heck are we doing on this earth? What is the meaning of any of this? if I am here already, why not be on Lana’i?

I heard a really interesting term recently: “accumulated identity”. I thought that this was such a great description of how we collect and curate our personal stories. Normally, we are at ‘home’ where our perception of ourselves is corroborated by our location, circumstance and shared experience with family and friends. If that is a definition of who we are, then who are we when we no longer have that structure to confirm the story? Luckily, I can manage to ask these questions without it sending me into an existential crisis. In truth, it doesn’t really matter.

Maybe a better frame to work with is what am I going to do while I am ‘here’? Is ‘here’ local or global in nature? I touch people from all over the world ‘here’ and so far those interactions are more impactful than my trips to the grocery store, one of the few places where I am in regular contact with the Lana’i community en masse. (The grocery store and the post office being where we all meet.) The other questions are an indulgent distraction at best and any potential answers finally just a random guess. What I actually do might matter. How I live does affect others. How I work could change people’s lives for the better. I’d like to make my presence count. We all should.