The Art of Making Things Right
Some healing comes loud, with movement and fire.
And some arrives quietly, like a tide returning to shore.
Ho’oponopono is one of the quiet ones.
This ancient Hawaiian practice is not loud, not forceful. It doesn’t demand that we fix the world. It simply asks that we look within, and make right what has been bent or forgotten.
The word Ho’oponopono means “to make right, twice over.”
In Hawaiian, pono means balance, alignment, integrity.
To repeat it is to honour the depth of that restoration- within yourself, and beyond.
At its heart, Ho’oponopono is not about guilt.
It is about responsibility.
Not in a burdensome way, but in a remembering- that we are not separate from what happens around us.
The practice is simple. Four phrases. Spoken slowly. Often in silence.
A kind of prayer that cleans the windows of perception.
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.
You can direct them to a person, to your body, to a memory, to your own self.
Or to no one in particular- just the space where pain, regret, or confusion lives.
These four phrases are not magic spells. But they are medicine.
The kind that changes shape as it travels- like light through glass.
When you say “I’m sorry,” you are not shrinking.
You are stepping into honesty, owning your part in the dance.
When you say “Please forgive me,” you are not begging.
You are clearing the air so love can breathe again.
When you say “Thank you,” you are not bypassing.
You are recognising the lesson, even if it came wrapped in ache.
When you say “I love you,” you are not fixing anything.
You are simply remembering what it feels like to be whole.
This practice is small enough to fit in a whisper.
And vast enough to ripple through generations.
You can say it before sleep. While washing dishes. In the midst of confusion.
You can say it with tears or with calm. With trembling or certainty.
It is not a ritual for show.
It is a soft return- to the self, to the moment, to peace.
Some days, we need complicated answers.
Other days, we just need four small lines to begin again.

Leave a comment