If you find yourself on the Big Island, and this is less than an invitation, and more context in case that coincidence happens—you visiting and me living—in the same spot, which is the Kohala region, then pull up a chair at the café table we call Pomaka’i. This is sitting space. (Possible to find more writing on the blog here for this eating locale, if you wish to search.) In the meantime, I visit this café often, so more words are being offered. Have a seat, please.

Raising children can feel effortless when joyful pockets of time happen—an art activity or singing in the car or campfire for s’mores. Except the “meaningful” conversations often make me wonder how little or how much to say to connect with my 11-year-old son Darien. A few days ago, we go to the movie theater and watch The Bad Guys. While seeing the storyline unfold, my mind plays the reel where I effortlessly distill the most poignant insights and lessons from the film, then artfully share those in free flowing talking with my son. Surprise. Not so.