For as long as I can remember, I’ve sought sanctuary—not in buildings or crowds—but in the quiet, raw embrace of nature. When life moves fast and the noise gets loud, it’s the trees, the ocean, the open sky that ground me. Nature doesn’t ask me to be anything but myself. It welcomes every breath, every thought, every emotion.
I grew up in San Diego and always took advantage of the nature that surrounded me. I love going on walks, hikes, and dipping into any body of water…lakes, oceans, rivers, even hot springs. Also the desert skies carry a unique kind of beauty I cherish.
I had the wonderful privilege of going on road trips all over the States before I moved to Hawaiʻi seven years ago. The nature here on the island has been deeply healing for me on many levels. The flora and fauna, along with access to clean air, water, and less light pollution, have been some of the greatest gifts to myself and my nervous system. The slow pace and embrace of nature really helped rewire so much in me.
Mana is the life force energy that exists in all things. In Hawaiian culture, it’s believed that people, places, and even objects hold mana. On Maui, you can feel it in the wind that wraps around Haleakalā, in the rhythm of the waves in Hāna, in the way the rain nourishes the ʻāina (land). It’s not just energy it’s presence, depth, and spirit.
It asks you to slow down. To listen. To respect. It’s in the untouched beauty of the land, you start to understand that mana isn’t something you take…it’s something you honor.
That’s why people often say the island gives you what you need, not what you want. If you come with respect and humility, Maui will hold you. But if you come to conquer or consume, she might show you a different side. That, too, is mana.
Recently, I had the opportunity to learn about nature worship in Okinawa, and it deeply resonated with me. In Okinawan tradition, there is a profound respect for the land, the ancestors, and the spirits that inhabit nature. It’s a practice rooted in harmony, honoring the sacredness of the earth, the mountains, the trees, and the ocean.
This way of relating to nature feels familiar to me, echoing the Hawaiian concept of mana and the reverence I hold for the ʻāina here in Hawaiʻi. Both cultures invite us to slow down, listen, and recognize that we are part of a greater web of life. Nature isn’t something separate or something to conquer,it’s a living, breathing presence that sustains and nurtures us.
It truly is my place of worship, reflection, and recharging. I pray to keep treating the Earth better, because she always treats me well.
