Things Might Be Okay

Kathryn Yadao
28 January 2011
RD #1

(This photo courtesy of bridaldreamhawaii.net)

Have you ever felt worry? How about doubt? I’ve had these feelings so big in my body that I thought I’d implode into a giant black hole of anxiety. There aren’t many things that can console these feelings within my brain, but there are things I can do to relax and adjust my inner alignment with myself. There’s a simple concoction that involves a constant, flowing breeze, the sound of waves crashing on the rocks in a rhythmic way, grass under my rarely-naked toes, and a thought-inducing view before me. Okay, so maybe it’s not as simple as it sounds, but there’s one place that blends all of these things together in a magical way only for me. [Thesis]Kaka’ako Waterfront Park is a place that brings me back to feelings of happiness and alignment, when all seems wrong in the world.[/THESIS]

I don’t remember my first trip to Kaka’ako, but I do know that I remembered the place. My dad used to pack up our bikes in the truck, and cruise down Nimitz Highway until we got to Kaka’ako. I was about eight or nine years old when I learned to ride a “two-wheeler” (I guess I can be called a late bloomer), and my dad thought it would be fun for me to learn on some new terrain. Kaka’ako is known for its huge, mountainous paths – at eight years old, it sure looks that way – so I had a lot of work ahead of me if I wanted to explore this new land. I still had my training wheels on, and shakily, I took off. We started at one end of the shore side and worked our way to the other, looking out at the vast ocean that lay to our left. I remember feeling so rugged and tough, like the kids in the books I’d read that ran away from home and were out on their own. Yeah, I was one tough cookie. I’d pretend I was a lone traveler, going from town to town, evading the law. My dad must have thought I was nuts, talking to myself, dodging invisible bullets, and pretending to smoke a cigarette. I could not have gotten any more enjoyment out of the world at that time.

I have gone to Kaka’ako in so many stages of my life. I made it a point to go with my friends at least once a summer – to revisit the feelings of childhood and go cardboard sliding. We all went one day, all nine of us (at the time), which is no easy feat. Some of my friends went swimming in the little rock-wall protected pool (I didn’t dare, after rumored shark attacks), and we all eventually sprawled out on the top of one of the hills, tired from our adventures, and laughing because we loved every moment of it. Even though I don’t keep in touch with some of these friends that shared this moment with me, I feel like even if we don’t agree on things, and even if we are not friends anymore, we can still reflect on that experience as something that connects us. It is these small moments throughout my life that make the harder times worthwhile.


As the years went by, I had visited Kaka’ako many times, with many similar experiences of joy. The feelings of the warm sun, the cool breeze and the fresh grass are a few things I will never forget. The initial run up the hill, the feelings of being out of breath, all disappear when you get to the very top and look at the amazing sight in front of you. You can see the power of the ocean, the playfulness of the children, and the vibrant colors of the grass and trees. At night, you can lie in the grass and listen to the little bugs, and just stare forever into the expansive night sky, full of stars and wonder.

Sometimes I go alone with my thoughts. I walk up and down the pathways slowly, calculating my problems, thinking of friends and family, or simply just enjoying time outside of the office or classroom. Sometimes I still make that run up the hill – which is much harder when you’re out of shape – just to relax and do some breathing exercises at the top. The view never gets boring for me, even though it’s the same as it was ten years ago. But maybe that’s why I enjoy this place. Maybe I enjoy the simple constancy of it, since my life is forever changing. We are always under constant pressure to remain intact with all the changing we go through in our lives, when really sometimes maybe all we need is to go somewhere that stays the same and break ourselves down slowly. Sometimes, all it takes is a simple concoction that involves a constant, flowing breeze, the sound of waves crashing on the rocks in a rhythmic way, grass under my rarely-naked toes, and a thought-inducing view before me to really feel like things might be okay.