
Hawaiian Healing
Lā‘au lapa‘au practitioner Sean Chun heals through the cultural use of plants and spirituality.
BY Mary Troy Johnston
Traditional Hawaiian healing (lā‘au lapa‘au) goes back over a thousand years. Legendary stories of this practice feature a kahuna (priest), Kamakanui‘aha‘ilono, who had healing powers. When he visited the Island of Hawai‘i, he noticed a man, named Lono, of royal status (ali‘i) whom he said was sick. Lono refuted the accusation and beat the stick he was carrying on the ground in anger, accidentally puncturing and wounding his foot. Kamakanui‘aha‘ilono agreed to treat him, plucking the leaves and seeds from the pōpolo plant (black nightshade) which he used to make a salve to stop the bleeding. Lono became a follower after the healer blew the knowledge of healing into his mouth. This legend of the beginning of lā‘au lapa‘au is retold in Nā Mo‘olelo Hawai‘i o Ka Wā Kahiko: Stories of Old Hawai‘i by Roy Kākulu Alameida. The transmission of knowledge from one person to the next, from one generation to the next, is key to the survival of the knowledge and mysteries of ancient healing.
Sean Chun is renowned on Kaua‘i as a practitioner of traditional Hawaiian healing at Ho‘ola Lahui Hawai‘i, a Native Hawaiian Health Care Agency. He came to the healing arts because of his interest in spirituality and traditional culture. He describes how his “great interest in cultural uses of plants” meant that he always tried to learn more by speaking to kūpuna (elders) whenever he had the chance. The way he received his knowledge is like the Lono story.
He relates his experience: “Eventually you meet some practitioners that you develop a bond with, and they share their story and lifestyle with you. And because of my background in Hawaiian studies, cultural arts, and knowledge of plants, it was easy for me to understand the process of their teachings. What they gave me was a sense of direction and understanding of who I am as a Hawaiian. They shared the responsibilities of their work and how they were taught. The most intriguing thing was their stories, and how the work they do needs to be carried on.”
Practitioners of lā‘au lapa‘au agree that the spiritual dimension is the most important. Papa Henry Auwea, the late healer who was so beloved on the Big Island and known for the generous transmission of his knowledge to the next generation, believed that the spiritual component was 80 percent. As a master, he also had the knowledge of some 2,500 herbs and plants. Sean also believes, “the foundation for these practices is spirituality.” His teachers all led him in respecting the role of pule (prayer, chant, mantra) and to honor the protocols that show reverence, for example, in gathering plants. Sean says, “They shared that we are just servants, and are vessels for Ke Akua, or God, to be utilized to help facilitate the healing of the people, the land, and guide others to a pono (righteous) lifestyle.” That is the good life. He elaborates, “Regaining the connection to spirituality helps reconnect Kānaka Maoli (native Hawaiians) to their past so they may understand who they are as Kanaka and thrive in today’s westernized society.” It is so important, as Sean sees it, “to be aware of these things that affected us in the past and the severity of how a colonized mind may not be the best for many that suffer the loss of cultural practices.” He adds, “In reality, many have lost their identity as a Kanaka, and in turn lack self-understanding and self-esteem. To reclaim the sense of cultural identity and well-being, Sean believes holistic practices should also include “mālama ‘āina” (taking care of the land because it takes care of you), “working in the lo‘i (taro fields), planting and growing food” honoring “wahi pana” (sacred places) and “being a good steward of the forests and oceans.” He concludes, “We also need to keep in mind that we need to shy away from things that detract from our spiritual growth as well, such as toxic behavior, negativity, drugs, and alcohol.”
Sean describes the multi-faceted nature of Hawaiian healing. It is often generalized as plant-based healing, but that deillegalscription barely touches on the range of healing applications that might be needed to treat an illness. He explains, “Some may be as simple as a rash that may only require a poultice, others may need a longer process of herbal therapy. Traditional practices utilized many plants, minerals, and even animals. It was steeped in protocols and rituals.” Furthermore, “What is more important is to understand that Hawaiian healing is more complex than just taking an herbal concoction. Sometimes we need to incorporate ho‘oponopono (to correct) or a family reconciliation if it is deemed to be needed. Often, as we believe, illness may start from conflict within the family, so dealing with these issues is important to perpetuate a healthy relationship.”
Other approaches might “include detoxing the body, change in diet, exercise, and mindset, and [addressing] underlying spiritual issues.” Those might extend to seeing “if there are any problems with the house or the land they reside on.”
Lā‘au lapa‘au has a very opposite orientation than Western (or Allopathic) medicine. Western medicine touts the most current knowledge and the latest pharmacological breakthroughs marketed globally and whose access is determined by patent regimes. Signaling the difference, Sean refers to Hawaiian medicine as the healing arts. To practice a profession and to practice an art are two very different things. The professional is highly educated and trained, usually from a degree-based program. The art practitioner possesses insights that are uncommon and develops skills in uniquely personal ways, intuitively combining elements and integrating knowledge from diverse sources. Whereas treatment programs in Western medicine may be more formulaic, preillegalscriptions among Hawaiian healers may organically draw upon not only a variety of sources, but a lifetime of experiences and learning.
Sean expresses the distinction well: “I was fortunate to have been taught one-on-one by my kumu (source of knowledge) and mentors.” As many of them either did not have a way to transmit their knowledge, perhaps because they did not have children or children who wanted to follow in their footsteps, Sean feels it was a great privilege to have learned from them. He underlines, “It was a different experience to be with them and learn directly as opposed to sitting in a classroom. You cannot gain the insights or knowledge by taking a few classes. You need to be by their side and have shared experiences.” He also reflects on contemporary trends: “Today, many assume they know or have knowledge of cultural traditions by taking a few semesters or weekend lectures. Unfortunately, this just diminishes those that were actually trained and are recognized by the families and community.” The tradition has always been that practicing Hawaiian medicine is a service; it is not done for profit. He predicts “some even want to develop a certification process for people to become practitioners. This will further distance the traditional practices as monetizing or certifying a spiritual practice cannot be done.” In summary, “There is no place in our culture for these things as we do not do it for money or recognition, but rather to simply grow and serve our lāhui (people).”
Sean Chun has taken his place among kumu, teachers who have the foundation of knowledge and have accepted the kuleana (responsibility) of teaching it. He conducts community outreach in several ways, sharing his knowledge with the Native Hawaiian Schools and public schools among various other community groups and leadership roles. He also continues his own learning as he states, “I am fortunate to still be mentored and study under the direction of ‘Ōlohe Jerry Walker and Sensei Bruce Keaulani. It’s important to value those and learn from people that have a known tie and genealogy to past practitioners.”
Sean describes the genealogy to past practitioners who transmitted their knowledge to him: “Among these were Ken “Coach” Kamakea. He was a practitioner of lomilomi hāhā, a form of lomilomi that is used to diagnose ailments. Kumu Levon Ohai, a practitioner of lā‘au lapa‘au, or herbal medicine. Papa Tom Takahashi practiced pule or prayer. I was fortunate to have studied one on one with them, spending time learning about their respective arts and lives. Other important mentors include Ilei Beniamina and Dr. William Kenji “Pila” Kikuchi. I was grateful to work with them while I was working at Hawaiian studies at Kaua‘i Community College. Ilei shared about cultural practices and spirituality, and Pila shared a lot about the island of Kaua‘i and wahi pana, sacred sites. Others I was fortunate to have learned from was Papa Francis Wong of Moloka‘i, a practitioner of ho‘oponopono, lomilomi, and lua; and Aunty Mahi Poepoe from Maui, who shared the art of kualua lomilomi and herbal medicine. I have also learned lomilomi from Aunty Daisy Nash, who fortunately is still around. But the others have all since passed, and I value the time and knowledge that they have shared with me over many years. The cultural values that they shared were important: to be pono, to have integrity in what we do as Kanaka in order to perpetuate authentic cultural practices.”