The light steadily strengthens until it bursts into a brilliant sun ball over the top of Halelakala. It shimmers down upon mortals like me, out early enough to witness its magic. It is a benediction, without denomination, from the mountaintop. Giver of heat and light, the sun is what I crave. Stiff from a six-hour international flight and uncounted hours waiting in car, ferry, airports and rental kiosk, my body opens itself to the energy offered.
My morning walk continues past hedges of rioting bougainvillea and hibiscus; only constant trimming tames their growth. “Another perfect day in paradise,” is a familiar comment.
Perfection yes, but much more complicated than that. We assume that perfection has no flaws. I know Maui has grievous flaws. There are poor and sick people on Maui; groceries are expensive; a drug culture thrives. Just as at home, politicians argue over roads and trees and taxes. Big dollars have big power. Like indigenous peoples around the world, Hawaiian natives are struggling for their birth rights. All that and more are evident here. Still, my Maui is a perfect paradise.
“What makes it so?” you ask.
For 45 years I’ve tried to find the answer. I only know that each time I step from the plane, Maui’s magic is upon me. My spirit is uplifted. My perception is enhanced. My attitude is adjusted. It’s impossible not to relax.
The secret is in the air, a light fresh balm to a body’s clogged passages, filled with delicious scents found nowhere else on earth. Everything that grows on Maui blooms at least once during the year. It means that each breath yields scents from a tree, shrub or flowering plant, all mingle on the gentle breeze with Perfume da Pacific Ocean. The ocean is never very far away.
A turn at this intersection and I’m on grass beside sand dunes. Here the floral scents are overlaid by salt spray, and, after major storms, odours of rotting seaweed, but always there is lightness in the air. On surrounding hills, where warmth and tropical rainfall decays all fallen leaves and blossoms, one huge composting facility is created, one more aroma added to the mix.
The annual rainfall of Kiehi, where I walk, is lowest of the island—a desert micro-climate on a green Pacific oasis. To breathe this mix is such relief after alternately breathing cold outside air and heated, dry indoor air in Canada. Temperature and humidity opens bronchial passages and encourages deep breathing. Who wouldn’t prefer to take their morning exercise under these conditions?
I am reminded once more of why I keep returning. Exposure to Maui encourages a kind of openness, a willingness to consider new ideas, opinions and opportunities. Nothing seems hopeless or impossible. Best of all, at the deepest level, my psyche shifts. A perfect Maui morning directs me along the path of life.