Understanding the Blessing of Rain in Hawaii

For the past three years, my sister and I have taken a trip to the island of Oahu, Hawaii. A seemingly unrealistic idea at first (wait, can you just go to Hawaii?) has now become a beloved tradition that we start daydreaming about as soon as we're back on the mainland.

The first year, we only spent three full days in Oahu. I know this seems insane, especially considering it took us over 12 hours to get there and back to Tampa. But we were young, early in our careers with hardly any PTO to speak of, and determined to make it work. And it was so worth it. We had the most amazing time: hiking Diamond Head and Koko Head craters, snorkeling in the crystal-clear waters of Hanama Bay, watching surfers on the North Shore, and eating all the poke we could manage. It was a dream vacation, albeit a short one, and we knew we would return the next year.

In 2023, we returned for the second time, and this time we’d stay for 5 full days. We were eager leading up to the trip, knowing all the spots we would revisit and new ones we had learned about since. I had heard the advice to never vacation in the same place twice, because you'll never be able to replicate how great it was the first time. But we were determined to have an even better time. On our first morning there, we woke up to an overcast sky promising showers throughout the day. No bother, we decided – we would enjoy the shopping and restaurants in Waikiki. Then, day two was rainy. We drove around the west side of the island, squinting through the windshield wipers to try to find some blue sky. Several times we stopped to walk on a beach or check out anoverlook, only to be chased back to our car when the sky started spitting rain at us.

Earlier that day, a local had told us that the rain was a blessing in Hawaiian culture. Indeed, this adage was repeated to us several times over the week by many well-meaning Hawaiians. But we did not feel blessed by this weather. Determined to make the most of our time, we trudged through the rain and wind and attempted to have some semblance of fun. When finally on the fourth day the sun shone down on us, we thought, “Finally! Here’s the blessing we’ve been waiting for.” And while we enjoyed our final two days basking in the sunlight on Lanikai’s shores, we begrudgingly admitted that, no, this year’s trip was not as good as last’s.

I guess this trip will be blessed.

The rain didn’t spoil it for us entirely, though, and for a third year we returned to the islands. Leading up to the trip, a faint mist of anxiety lingered over every conversation: “We should hike Koko Head again this year…if it’s not raining.” Hoping for the best but expecting the worst was our mantra. So when the skies opened up on us while we waited in the always-long line for Marugame Udon on our first night, we shrugged and said, “I guess this trip will be blessed.” The hot udon paired perfectly with the rainy weather, and we cuddled up in our cozy hotel beds and listened to the rain. After hiking Koko Head crater (which was just as grueling the second time around), and rain poured down as we bought malasadas from the Leonard’s food truck, we laughed and said, “Thank God it didn’t rain while we were on the hike.” And when, after a long day of sunning on Lanikai Beach with the Mokes on the horizon, it began to rain, we holed up in our hotel room and watched Survivor for hours.

Throughout our trip, the rain served as a gentle but steady reminder that what will be, will be. Instead of forcing our will upon the weather and sticking to a rigid, predetermined plan, we let the rain guide our days, knowing its presence would bring a new experience. And while we could have wished for more sunshine, the rain gave us an excuse to promise ourselves that we’d return again next year.

By accepting the blessing of rain, we came to value our time even more – and had the best trip yet.