THE ROCKS OF NAPO’OPO’O

by Leilani Lewis (Spring 1991)

(submitted by Madge Walls)

It’s Friday morning. Time to leave my cares and responsibilities behind in Honolulu and fly to Kona for the weekend. I have three days to putter around my yet-to-be-finished house on Napo’opo’o Road, plant ground cover on the slopes above the house, and develop a site plan for steps and pathways all over the sloping land, connecting one level with the next, using rocks – the flatter the better – that I’ve been collecting from around the property.

Mid-Friday afternoon: hot and sweaty I feel like going for a swim in Kealakekua Bay. It’s just a two-mile drive down the road. Five minutes later I’m walking onto the black sand beach – having just experienced that familiar feeling I always get when I walk from the gravel parking area, past the heiau on the right and the lava rock wall and bay on the left, towards the beach area – that feeling sensation of having passed from ordinary everyday reality into a magical timeless realm. Kealakekua Bay and its clear pristine waters, the pali above, the Captain Cook monument at the far end of the bay, black sand Napo’opo’o Beach and its rocky shore, the tree-shaded grassy area between the heiau and the beach: this whole scene is a place of blessing for me – where time stands still, then disappears – a place where all my worries and concerns literally wash from me as I lazily swim in the bay and lie in the sun.

As I walk onto the beach I notice for the first time how many smooth black rocks there are. They’d make wonderful stepping stones on my land. They’re so flat – so perfect for making steps and pathways. I drop my towel and rubber slippers on the sand and start walking all over the rocky area past the beach – now and then stooping down to run my hands over the smooth surface of the rocks.

There’s a small circular sandy spot about six feet in diameter amidst all the rocks, and I find myself picking up round flat rocks and placing them in a circle within the sandy area. The pile has grown to about fifteen stepping-stone rocks when I am gently pulled out of my rock-collecting reverie by the sound of a voice inside: “Leilani, remember what you’ve been taught. When you want to take from Nature, first ask Nature’s permission” “Yes, of course.” So I sit down on the edge of the circle of rocks and .silently speak to the largest rock in the center.

“Big Rock, may I take all of you rocks that I’ve collected today and use you as stepping stones on my land near here?”

“No.”

“No?! What do you mean, no? Are you sure? Why not?”

“Because we belong here. This is our home.”

“But you’re going to be used for a good cause. I mean, you’ll be used as stepping stones along pathways connecting different areas of my property.”

“No, Leilani. We belong here by the bay. Our only function is to be here and lie in the sun and tumble in the surf at high tide. We simply are – with no other purpose.”

“Okay, I’m getting the picture. I’m disappointed, but I won’t argue with you. I know you speak wisely. I’ll honor your message. Your words are unexpected, but I obviously need to learn this lesson.”

I leave the circle of rocks and go for a swim along the shore – feeling light and happy as the waves gently tumble me around and wash over me.  Later, as I’m lying in the sun I hear Rock speak again.

“Leilani, go ahead and pick out a small black rock and take it with you to your home site up the road. Put it prominently somewhere as a reminder of this teaching today.”

“Okay. Thank you. That’s a wonderful idea.”

I pick out a little black rock – smooth, flat, and round – and take it with me when I return to the land a while later. After rinsing off the sand I put it in the garage, knowing I’ll find a special place in the house for it later.

That evening I visit Mary Helen, who lives on the slopes of Hualalai above Kailua. We’ve been good friends since preschool days and we know each other well. I tell her about my conversation with the rocks. She says she heard recently that the State Government is planning to bulldoze the rocks away at Kealakekua Bay and even encourages their removal by anyone and everyone – so that the sandy part of the shore can be extended into the now rocky area.

Hearing this news I’m excited about returning to Napo’opo’o Beach the next day to converse with the rocks again – this time telling them about the bulldozers – and see if that makes any difference to them.

Early the next morning I return to the beach and immediately head towards the circle of rocks. Gone! All the rocks I’d collected and placed in a circle are now gone. I turn to the surrounding rocks along the shore and whispered out loud to them, “What happened? Where’d they all go? Who removed them?”

The rocks reply, “It doesn’t matter how they were removed. What matters is those rocks belong here along the shore with us – not in your circle of so-called stepping stones.”

I press on with more questions now that I have the bulldozing information to present to them. I tell them what Mary Helen said.

“Now may I take some of you rocks up the hill to use as stepping stones on my land? I mean, you’ll be removed anyway by the  bulldozers.”

“That doesn’t matter. The answer is still no. Just because the Government people say that rocks will be removed from this beach doesn’t mean it is right to do so. You know better. Stick to what you know – not what everyone thinks. This too is a lesson you still need to learn.”

“Okay, Rock, one last question. Why do you say no to me now when members of the Rock family have always said yes before?  I have a few special rocks that I’ve taken home with me from various places – always with the rock’s permission.”

“We’ve already told you. Lately, you’ve become too focused on the function of rocks instead of simply appreciating us as we are. When you return here tomorrow, just come and enjoy. No questions. Just be here.  Like us.”

“Hmmnn…okay. Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Sunday morning as the sun rises over Mauna Loa I return to the beach.  In the early morning light I hop around among the rocks, smiling. A few of them are now back in the circular area. I start to wonder out loud and then decide to just let the mystery be.

“Don’t worry.  I won’t even ask.”

As I walk past my rock friends towards the gentle morning surf, my eyes begin to water. I feel a deep sense of belonging.