Whenever my father would speak seriously to me, not in a scolding way, but in a kind way instructing me about something important that I might have done wrong or not understood, tears would start to fall. I used to think it was strange that I would cry when he would speak to me. Eventually I realized that the crying was not because I was being rebuked but because I felt such great love from him that my heart would overflow and tears would naturally appear. Another kind of realization hit me recently. I learned about LOVING the GAP. The gap that I'm speaking of is the space between wherever we think we are and where we think we should be. It can be personal or directed towards others. For example we might think that we are too heavy and want to lose 20 pounds in a hurry. Till then we think that we don't look good because we don't meet our ideal picture of what we think we should look like. And we give ourselves a hard time about it with internal biting messages that may or may not be conscious. The gap is the time it takes to get to the ideal desired end product. Loving this gap is about being mindful, appreciating and being kind to yourself and others moment by moment. When judgments arise, practice acknowledging, blessing and letting them go. If the judgments come back, repeat the practice. It's a loving brain fitness practice that heals, just like hula is a loving practice for your body and mind. Loving the gap was one of the things I learned at a conference with the Soul of Money Institute and the Lenz Foundation in Park City, UT recently. Park City is located at an elevation of 7,000 feet about half an hour from Robert Redford's Sundance Institute. I taught a little hula to the participants under sunny blue skies and puffy clouds after an illuminating, intense couple of days. Our bodies swayed to the gentle Hawaiian music of Moe Keale, balancing all the sitting and learning we had been doing. Beautiful quaking aspens on the surrounding mountains were turning gold. They shimmered and shook when the wind blew and reminded me of the graceful 'Olapa tree. Olapa means dancer and that's exactly what the quaking aspens were when the cool mountain breezes blew through them. Aspens growing on the mountainside share a common root system - like one big 'ohana (family) they're interdependent. When one starts to turn yellow, that signals that they will all be gold soon. We had a reunion of many of my New York City hula 'ohana last month. We gathered together to celebrate the life of Becky Leialoha Jung, one of my students, who died at the young age of 46. The benefit performance took place during the midst of Fashion Week at Lincoln Center where Becky worked for eight years putting together and tearing down shows for top designers. It's intense work. We met Becky's coworkers who were moved to tears when they told us how it was their pleasure to put this show together for her. She was also a modern dancer extraordinaire being part of the wonderful dance company Pilobolus and we got to see one of her choreographies. Hula was one of her loves. Being a dancer, hula came more easily for Becky. Her favorites were the ancient dances called kahiko, in particular one for the chicken gods called Pa Kamakani. Becky Leialoha accompanied us to Volcano last year where we danced on the Pa Hula (mound). Looking at a rough video of that performance, I saw Becky's radiant smile flash and realized how much she loved that dance. Leialoha means lei of love. Becky loved making leis and wearing them. She made them carefully, with full attention and love. A lei is is also symbolic of life. She made herself and many others happy dancing the hula. I am forever grateful that Leialoha and I had a chance to meet and spend precious moments together. Malama pono (take care of body, mind and heart), June Kaililani Tanoue Kumu Hula | 
