I feel that life is about capturing the many aspects of our existence; the places where we have given up our heart and traded it in for comfort instead of adventure.
I have been a man of many adventures. As I get older those adventures become those of my children and my friends as they build foundations of their own.
As much as I've been able I've kept journals of these adventures, however, some can only be remembered by the wondrous connection of man's life and his relationship to the elements of time and space - never to be redone.
Here is a random outtake of an adventure of the soul on the Big Island of the South Pacific.
|Sketch of Hawaiian dancer|
The misty fog rolls in like a white sheet thrown slow motion over a green covered Wiamea bed. Here the land does one thing... it grows like mad over the night with a vengeance. Even tennis shoes left unattended will be covered by moss overnight. (Heehee) The grass grows. The ocean grows. The people grow. There are no excuses here in paradise, none to be had, there is only to let loose.
"Hang loose, Bro." - Of all your inhibitions. Foot loose and fancy free is the Hawaiian way.
Fat Islanders feel 20 pounds lighter confidently sporting Speedos that are way too small. Shapely women pour themselves into the bikinis they wore in high school. On the islands it doesn't matter, everything here is a beautiful reminder of how lucky we are.
Journal entry January something, I think it's a Sunday? (Who cares?)
Surf is picking up. I've been here long enough to tell when to get the hell out of the water. The young, stupid tourista boogie boarders are getting their faces flattened and their necks tweaked on the sandy, golden beaches.
Coconuts are washing up by the hundreds, rolling in front of me as if like a relative asking for a favor, "pick me up." They come from some other area of the island or from some seedless coconut tree world. The wind is just right for something that falls into the ocean 2,000 miles away to make it here eventually from any continent. The coconut could have been at sea for ten years, or even more, yet it seems so alive, full of energy and vitality.
Island energy feels like it doesn't have any life purpose but to float at sea like a coconut carried away by another trade wind to have fun in the floating. The ebbs and flows of life never sinking; never denying the path; to shed the old and blossom like a wild orchid bloom and die, again and again. The cycle goes on and on.
I welcome myself back here to this wonderland of a place because it's another me facing the ocean sunset.
Journal entry Saturday
On the Big Island I lose track of what day of the month it is, though I do know it's Saturday because that's when I can go to the farmer's markets to get me fresh papaya for a dime.
Today was once again another interesting one. There is so much to see in this place. The north side of Kona is like 20 states put together from places like Texas to New Mexico to Montana. I've been told that there are 26 different climates in the world and 24 of them can be found here on the Big Island. The only two climates not present are extreme sub-arctic temperatures and the dry desert atmosphere and landscape of the Sahara.
Along with all these climates there is also an influx of emotional ups and downs because the climates change drastically from one to another so quickly.
We've been living in Wiamea, Kamulea, a valley in between two mountains with much wind. It's surrounded by lush tundra like the conditions and beauty of the Parker ranch. The energy of the place is up and down. It's a simple community settled by a lot of old time Paniolo Hawaiian cowhands and the like.
So whats up here?
Basically it's just survival conditions for the locals - odd jobs, fishing, hanging out, eating spam with everything. Like most tourist attractions the money and finances for the local traditional families is so small, but the price to live here is out of this world. Yet another capitalistic, brainless notion that the old timers and the traditional Hawaiians have to pay for.
The bottom line though is that you have to be careful. If you're not a local with local connections you're not going to survive here too long. Even the ocean knows when you're not from here.
Journal entry Sunday & Monday
We've been spending a lot of time at a secret cove in Hapuna bay. My friend Pua and Deryl are connected with the voyagers of the MAKALII (the name of their ancient people's canoe.) They are getting ready to set sail for a 2,500 mile journey on the open ocean (possibly on the 6th or 7th of February.) It's a history making, traditional journey for the Oceanic cultures. There are no western tools like navigational instruments used to navigate their elder back home, it just isn't allowed.
The whole purpose of this one voyage is to send the master navigator home to his people of Satawal island. Their master teacher is called MAU PIAILUG, also known as PAPA MAU.
|Papa Mau when i meet him making fish hooks|
Mau became a way-finder at a very young age. He was taught from childhood how to navigate with the stars, the seas, all the elements of life, birds, sunsets, sunrises and the grand mother ocean.
As years came upon him he grew concerned that the practice of navigation in Satawal would disappear and so he began an intensive teaching in his home.
Around the mid 70's there was a National Geographic study of navigation without instruments and many were interested in how cultures from around the world traveled so far without modern electronic navigational systems.
However, the Hawaiian culture had lost all its knowledge of the way-finders and so they brought, for the first time to the northern hemisphere from the southern hemisphere, Mau. With his help the Hawaiian navigational techniques were practiced for the first time on the HOkuLe'a - the modern version of an ancient double-hulled voyaging canoe that was built the old way with axes and stories; legends passed down from one island culture to the next and the legends manifested themselves into the creation of a new, yet ancient, concept of the double hull canoe.
Hitting the trade winds from the southwest it's a straight shot down to the South Pacific islands.
In 1976 the successful, non-instrument sailing of Hōkūle‘a to Tahiti proved to the world the efficiency and amazing reestablishment of Mau's navigational system into the Northern hemisphere and a gift of new life to the Hawaiians.
It was then that the resurgence of Hawaiian cultural renaissance began. The reawakening of the old way - the canoe, the language, the dance - all was revised. Many of the young Vietnam veterans of the time really grasped onto the concept (much like what happened with the A.I.M. - American Indian Movement in the states around the same time.)
|sketch of the Makalii that sailed the last navigator home|
My connection to the Hawaiians and the people of the South Pacific has been a grand experience; one that I will never forget. It reminds me that we must live life when we are young and bold and even now that's our soul's purpose in life. Living guilt free without regrets.
I am not sorry for the mistakes of man as they are the mistakes of greater knowledge for me and my children.
I awake every morning wondering about life's great adventures. On this day to think less is wasting time. Coming closer to death is the driving force of living everyday to its fullest.
You can change the rest of your life in one second.
Keep the faith of a young man and a young woman and travel as much as you can. Learn new things. Eat new things. Love new things. See that the glory of the creator is that we celebrate the creation of life when we're alive, not when we are dead.
There is no better time than the present and there is no better heaven than here on earth.
LIVE NOW! SAIL AWAY, MY LOVE, SAIL AWAY!
Love you all. ALOHA!