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amypalko

It's one of the first forms of communication that we learn as babies, isn't it? I can still remember the first time my niece waved to me. She was sitting across from me at a table in a cafe, and every time she caught my eye, she would give me a wave. In that wave was everything that she couldn't express verbally: engagement, joy, recognition, love. Even as children get older, they still seem to wave more often than adults do, particularly to strangers. Waving to commuters standing on the railway platform. Waving to drivers stuck in a traffic jam. Waving to other children at the playpark. Waving to the salespeople in shops.
I think we'd all do well to take a leaf out of their book. I sometimes wonder if those who are wisest on this earth are also those who arrived there most recently.
I, for one, will be taking you up on your challenge, and I will try and adopt the waving habit.
Thank you for this lovely post, Rosa :-)
Amy
xx

Rosa Say

So true Amy; there is much we can re-learn from children; actions and habits that once came so naturally to us get reshaped in the twists and turns of becoming adults, and not all can be considered the best faces of our growth.

We most often hear it called “the loss of our innocence” and we get so careful and protective. It is understandable that we want to be protective of our children, yet some of our cautions can step over into having us become withdrawn and inhibited, squelching so much natural curiosity, wonder and joy.

I think a big part of the Hualalai waving campaign was that the culture made the waving expressive enough to suffice; the wave itself was complete. As adults we get so busy, we look down or away not because we are rude, but because we may be thinking, “I just don’t have the time for this now… what if they start a conversation with me?”

Maria Palma

And I'm waving back to you, Rosa! I ride the train quite a bit and it's interesting how many people wave to the train as we pass by...and of course, I always wave back. That's the only time I see people waving. Now that I think about it, I've always been a waver ;)Must be the little kid in me still...

Rosa Say

Mahalo Maria! I have caught your wave, and am holding that little kid in you next to my heart :) However Maria, we who know you are fully cognizant that it is the gracious Mea Ho‘okipa in you which appears so naturally, and has nothing to do with age.

Steve Sherlock

I just finished my quesadilla to help celebrate Cinco De Mayo and am waving to you Rosa! The JJL meet up in Chicago at SOBCon thought of you often. Those I am sure translated into virtual waves!

Rosa Say

Steve I had the best quesadilla at the Tommy Bahama Café here last Friday with a yummy mojito :) I'm thinking it will be magueritas for Cinco De Mayo tonight... mahalo for the wave - isn't it fun? Share more there in Franklin today too.

Don Frederiksen

Rosa,

Your thoughts on waving really resonated with me. Growing up on the farm in central Minnesota, we waved. If you are working in the fields, you waved at people driving by. Usually you knew everyone but it didn't matter.
If you saw someone out in the farm yard as you drove by, you waved. There were even people where you wouldn't see anyone outside and you would wave anyway and wouldn't be surprised when the farmer stuck his head and arm out the barn door to wave back. Waving was part of the culture.

Now move the clock to the present. In our surburban location, I may not always know the people that drive by but I can't break the habit of waving. If driving, much to the embarrassment of my teenage children, I will wave at someone out for a walk, even if I don't know the people.

I'm a waver. Your post gives it new value.

Rosa, I always appreciate your insights. I'm waving back at you.
Don

Rosa Say

You know Don, your comment gave me some very early memories. Perhaps the whole Hualalai waving campaign was really an intensifying for me as well, for as kids we all waved in our neighborhood too. And your barn-door waver reminded me of the Faria family…

We had a neighbor a street over from ours whose name was Mr. Bathwell Faria. We kids thought it was hilarious that he had two last names, and adding nicely to our insider’s joke about it, his name was printed on his mailbox as Faria, Bathwell.

One Halloween our “trick” for him was to scratch off the comma, and ever after as we’d drive by his house on the way home, we’d stick our heads out of the car window and yell “Faria Bathwell!” and wave to him madly. He was crazy about his garden and often outside, and he’d wave back and laugh in such a pleased way. That was more than enough encouragement for us to yell at his house and acknowledge his spirit even when all the cars were gone and we knew no one was home. He never bothered to paint that comma back on his box.

Mahalo for the wave Don ~ I am waving back at you!
~ Rosa

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