My mother lives about an hour and a half’s drive from the suburban neighborhood outside San Francisco where I live. Once a month, without any explicit arrangement between us, I drive to her home to help with her errands. It’s not a strict obligation, but I’ve come to feel it as a kind of duty as her daughter, and my mother seems to live with the expectation of it.
Although it’s just once a month, as the day approaches, I find myself increasingly irritated. My relationship with my mother is generally good, thanks to cleaning, yet the irritation surfaces as the visit nears. I do my best to clean with that irritation and the drive to her house.
On a recent monthly visit, I was helping her with a big shopping trip to a large drugstore. My mother handed me a list that filled an entire A4 page. American drugstores are enormous, stocked with countless items, and I felt more irritable than usual searching for all the things she needed.
Perhaps sensing my frustration, the store manager approached me and asked, “What are you looking for?” Unable to conceal my irritation and anxiety, I told her what I needed, and she promptly found it. I thanked her, but my frustration seemed to rub off on her, as her expression grew even sterner.
Even as I continued searching for the next item, still feeling irritated, the manager returned to assist me again. She, too, seemed annoyed about something, yet she helped me find what I needed and supported me in completing my task. By the time I left the store, I was filled with gratitude.
This was an extraordinary experience for me. Despite my initial frustration, I witnessed how those feelings transformed. I could clearly feel that I was not living through memories but within the flow of my divine nature.
Once I had all the items I needed, the frustration dissipated. In that moment, the heaviness I’d been carrying vanished, and I felt a sense of lightness and upliftment. While it might seem like a simple case of completing a task, regaining that sense of lightness indicated that I had released some memory.
In these seemingly trivial moments, I find traces of my daily cleaning. The peace I feel, the sense of freshness—these are things I couldn’t have experienced while burdened by my memories, and they show me what’s possible when they are released.
We humans often take trips to change our mood, but in truth, the journey happens within. The journey begins the moment I realize my inner child has triggered some memory. As I clean with those memories, I encounter new perspectives and experiences.
Cleaning with obligations is essential for my inner journey. I am often surprised to realize how many things I approach as obligations—work, cooking, visiting my mother, messaging friends. But obligations are not enemies. It’s the memories I attach to these obligations that distance me from freedom. When I clean with the memories tied to obligations, I may find myself expressing kindness or receiving inspiration through them.
Ho’oponopono does not demand, “Change immediately.” It’s okay to be exactly where you are without forcing change. Begin by cleaning with whatever is happening in your life. The flow restored through cleaning will naturally guide you to the best places and experiences. Let’s start by cleaning with our senses and enjoy this inner journey.
Peace of I,
Christine Leimakamae Chu
