
I have been living through the 100-year storm in Hawaii in March of 2026. I am grateful that I live up-country where a great drainage system is built-in, so we aren’t experiencing the landslides and flooding prevalent on much of the island. Many trees have blown down or have lost branches. As I watch out my window, I am amazed by how far strong branches will bend until some of them snap and blow away.
I have been thinking about how a storm like this can be nature’s way of grieving. I observe trees as they bend and sway in their artful dances. They remind me of early grief when our hearts and minds bounce around, straining as far as they as they possibly could. We experience chaos in our bodies wondering if we can take another breath. At some time, the wind dies down. Slowly. As we catch our breath, we start to see the mess left behind.
As we pick through the rubble, we toss the sharply broken pieces into the trash and search for what we want to save. Parts of our grief are weakened by being stretched so far. As we remember the warm hugs and gentle touch of our loved one, we crave them longing for the comfort of their presence. Discarding what is broken is so hard to do.
Not all is broken though. Parts of ourselves feel stretched to their limits, yet they can heal. As the storm wanes, it’s time to be gentle with ourselves. Practice loving self-care. Take naps when you need to, and notice as the sun starts to shine through the clouds. Recognize all the shades of green as your start to see them on your walk.
The world has weathered major storms throughout history, and the world is still here. Maui will get through this one. Roads will be repaired. Housing will be replaced. Nature will heal. The money will come from someplace even if we don’t know where right now. And you will move forward, too. Know that, and take good care of yourself in the process.





