#420: SPOTLIGHT: Steph Jacobs

#420: Steph Jacobs

March 11, 2025

A Backbeat of Community

Question for Steph:

There is an idea that we can learn from every single person on the planet.  But there are also deeply ingrained habits we have been trained in that “teachers” have a formal designation which might limit our scope for learning.  With that thought, does someone come to mind in the past five weeks that you wouldn’t consider a “formal” teacher at all but who you learned something special from… (perhaps even someone you aren’t even fond of) ?

Steph's Response: 

Earlier this year, we had the privilege of vacationing at the Mauna Lani resort on Hawaii's Big Island. The name "Mauna Lani" translates to "mountain reaching heaven," and the resort is situated along the Kohala Coast, an area rich with royal history, sacred ponds, and ancient artifacts. The land itself feels alive with stories and energy that have been passed down through generations.

One of the resort’s Cultural Ambassadors, Pi’I, told us that in Hawaiian culture the physical world is inextricably linked to a complex spiritual realm. Central to this worldview is the concept of mana—spiritual energy or power. Mana is not confined to humans or living beings; it is a force that can flow through all things, from the land and sea to the artifacts created by human hands.

Pi’I illustrated this concept as he stood next to a beautiful dugout canoe, hand-carved using tools that replicated the methods of ancient Polynesian seafarers. The canoe, he explained, was not merely an object; it was imbued with mana – a rich spiritual energy the product of its craftsmanship, purpose, and history. 

Pi’I invited us to touch the canoe, encouraging us to absorb some of its mana and, in turn, offer up some of our own.

In that simple touch, the canoe became a teacher. It exuded a warmth and calm that seemed to transcend time, carrying with it the spirit of generations who had lived and traveled the oceans. It felt as though it absorbed my nervous energy, grounding me in a way that can only be described as discharging the static electricity of modern life. Each day I touched the canoe, I felt more centered, as though I were partaking in a meditation that connected me with something far greater than myself.

A more graceful writer might reflect on the island’s traditions and the way the canoe embodies a trinity of values drawn from land, sea, and sky. But for me, that physical connection to the canoe—the tactile experience of touching something so profoundly connected to the spiritual world—was a moment of grace. It was a reminder to honor the sacred in all things, both seen and unseen, and to recognize the deep spiritual energy that pulses through the island and our own lives.