Breath of Life.

I know it's been FOREVER (an understatement) since I've last written, and so do you. So instead of expanding upon the obvious, I'm just going to cut to the chase, here.

I just wrote this because I was inspired by Jorge Luis Borges's short story, "Borges and I." So I did what every aspiring writer would do in response to reading it: I wrote one myself.

“Sikahema and I”

Inhale.

She breathes and takes a bow. Sikahema receives all the credit for her hard work. She is the one who gets to do all of the motions as she dances hula. Me? I do not need that kind of credit from external sources. I am the one who feels it, and that is all the credit I need. I am the one who understands what the music and the words really mean. Little does she know that all the hard work she does only helps her understand who I am. Sometimes we are in touch with one another, but she is often working too hard to even remember me. What is in her blood flows much deeper within me. Sure, she looks like her mother and grandmother, but these women live and abide within me. She takes a breath, but I’m the one who drinks in the air.

My ancestors would use their hands to paint the air with their stories. They dance through me, and then Sikahema is the one who takes over. I realize now that she can’t really help it. Besides, it is in her blood. The aroma of the plumeria leis around her neck wafts through her to get to its home: me. I take it in and welcome it with an embrace. She pretends to show the ocean waves with her gentle hands, but I am the one enveloped in the fluidity of the water. She pretends to beckon the breeze, but the breeze beckons me to join it in its dance. Sikahema creates a flower with her fingers, but what blooms between us is Pualani: a flower from heaven. I often think that I do not need Sikahema to feel what I do. Only when the music plays does she prove me wrong.

Our differences are entwined through one thing, and one thing only. Aloha: the breath of life. She takes a breath, and I drink in the air.

Exhale.