It starts with a smile and a rustle of cellophane. Maybe it’s plumeria, maybe it’s purple orchid — but once it’s around your neck, the world feels softer. You just got a lei. And even if you didn’t expect it, you suddenly feel like you belong.
In Hawai‘i, lei giving isn’t just for graduations and hula shows. It’s a daily, living expression of aloha — an ancient tradition that somehow still feels brand new every time. Whether it’s a fresh strand from a backyard tree or a braided ti leaf from a roadside stand, a lei is never “just a lei.” It’s a message.
A message that says:
You’re welcome here.
You’re important to us.
You did something good — or maybe you just showed up.
Lei culture stretches back to ancient Hawai‘i, when fragrant garlands were worn by ali‘i (chiefs), warriors, and dancers to mark special moments or show respect. Flowers were gathered by hand, strung with care, and offered with intention. That spirit hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s more relevant now than ever.
There’s something deeply healing about wearing a lei — the coolness of the petals on your skin, the scent of puakenikeni or tuberose drifting up with each movement. You might find yourself standing a little taller, smiling a little easier. Lei change your energy. They soften the edges of the day.
And for those who give them? Lei are a love language. Aunties still wake up early to string flower strands before church. Cousins line up outside Longs during graduation week with arms full of orchid towers. Friends bring lei to the airport just because they haven’t seen you in a while. Some of the best lei are the ones you never expected.
Even kids get it — they’ll pluck a crown flower or a plumeria and loop it around a friend’s wrist without saying a word. It’s not about grand gestures. It’s about connection. It’s about living aloha in small, meaningful ways.
Of course, not all lei are made of flowers. Kukui nut. Shell. Maile. Ti leaf. Yarn and candy and crochet. Each one with its own meaning, each one a kind of spiritual armor wrapped in beauty. And when you get one, the right thing to do is simple: wear it. Appreciate it. And pass that feeling along.
Because in a world that moves too fast, a lei slows you down just enough to notice you’re loved.
So the next time someone places a lei around your shoulders — whether it’s your first or your fiftieth — pause. Breathe. Say mahalo. And remember: the lei isn’t just around your neck. It’s a circle that connects you to every moment of aloha that came before.
Living Aloha – Hawaii Monthly Staff
hawaiimonthly.com