Thursday, January 27, 2011

A Purification of the Soul

Does calling my return trip back to Maui 'a purification of the soul' sound a little too dramatic?

Let's examine.

On the surface.  I arrive to a land that is relatively recently colonized in the history of this world, and recent too is its surfacing from the ocean.  A couple big rocks scattered in the midst of endless blue, it is the largest most isolated land mass on a planet rotating around a sun, which is rotating around a universe that is rotating around itself.  And with rotating, feel free to substitute changing, revolving, or imploding.

I'm lying on a hammock above a vegetable garden with an ocean in front of me, and behind me, a 10,000 ft. summit of Haleakala that was recently blessed with snow for the first time in three years (fallen on the night I arrived).  The slope is entirely green, and though the previous jungle that swept across the green has been considerably cut back, it is not forgotten.  There are pockets where humans have ignored (and by ignored I mean decided against developing it) where it has grown back, and other pockets where humans have installed a Permaculture (permanent agriculture) system, and here too it grows back.

I have landed on a self-appointed 'sweet permaculture joint' and have been overwhelmed in this past week with the transition and acceptance of how diverse the worlds are that we live in.  I 'finished' my four month stay and Autumn share season with the mormons at Quail Hollow Farm on a slightly abrupt, but healthy note.

10 days before I left, I began fantasizing (while freezing my ass off doing some car camping because the winds were blowing 40 mph in Mojave National Reserve) about Maui.  I recalled the warmth of the land, and how welcome I felt, and tried to remember how special it was.  The memory was fainter than I wished, and I tried with difficulty recalling people and beaches and camping trips and eerie connections and nights by a fire and communal dinners and tropical trees and salads from the garden.  I stayed awake most of the night, and considering the circumstances, I woke with the sunrise as a surprisingly happy camper.  I was ecstatic to see snow on the ground and the car frosted inside and out.  Besides the slightly sore back from being cramped up in the backseat, I was stoked to take on our morning 8 mile trek through the snow.  Maui had kept me warm and in good spirits throughout the night.  I think that is a skill which I need to wield more in the future.  Taking more than just practical skills that you learn along the way with you.  Translating memories into little pick-me-ups when bummed about the weather or baking the acorn squash slightly less than desired can help keep you at a more even keel.

So the idea was planted that night, and built throughout the trip.  I thought of the diversity of this National Reserve.  We hiked through snow, drove past cinder cones and lava beds, hiked mountains made of granite and opalite and climbed 600 ft sand dunes.  Granted, this is the third largest National Park/ Reserve/ Conversation in America, but I recalled my backpacking trip through Haleakala, and saw all this over a three day walk.   Haleakala's southern slope boasts seven different climate zones, and I swear the only place where I've seen more natural colors was snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef.  Let's just say the seed sprouted fast, and was itching for sunlight (which was granted by the desert, but I was seeking some fertile volcanic soil and tropical rain to help me evolve into whatever tree I'll become [hopefully a banyan]).

When I arrived back at Quail Hollow, I began checking the WWOOF directory for farms on Maui.  Bing.  I e-mailed John from Rancho Relaxzo, and heard back the next day.  Two e-mails.  The first one said we have an opening in the beginning of February, someone just canceled on us.  The second one, we have an opening on the 20th of this month, want to come aboard?  Bang. The next day, I booked my ticket and anxiously and excitedly replied, hell yes.  Boom.
Bing Bang Boom.

Fast forward in time past the fun last nights getting little sleep on Quail Hollow, the few great days spent with my brother in LA and the two days at Banana Bungalow, (a highly recommended Maui hostel for people with open minds who consider themselves to be travelers rather than tourists).  Vrrrooooooooom.  That's the time-skip.  And now for the tour.

This is what you may see if you find yourself driving down Rancho's Relaxzo north side towards the sea.

Begin with an entrance to a driveway that looks like it leads to the middle of the jungle, possibly some cool hiking trails through some thick bush with views of wildlife and wild flowers, mostly native.  Then you see about 1/4 mile down a turn to your left and on that corner is a small house surrounded by trees, gardens, and plants everywhere.  And perched on this house's rooftop is a young man, longish hair and unshaven beard, somewhere in his twenties with a look in his eye that echoes a further understanding to the Cure's "More Than This."  This could be a result of his travels, or his past and present association, or more accurately, it could be his view.

If you shared his eyes, you would witness an expansive Pacific Ocean 2000 ft below us, and the west coast of Maui, curved and mountainous and covered with green.  Beaches all along the coastline, host to different colored sand, and against the shore, lighter shades of blue.  The islands of Lana'i and Kaho'olawe are perched on the horizon framing the ocean where the sun falls through like a coin into a slot machine.  A cattle egret, nicknamed Isis, flies into your interactive portrait from the right, and soars with such elegance when outlined against the blue sea.  And on the papaya trees 10 feet in front of you, you notice three new ripe ones, standing out like three yellow stripes on a green uniform. And the liloquoi vine climbing the neme tree where rests your Mayan hammock. And if you share this view, you must share this tropical fruit smoothie, harvested from the trees around you.
Banana, Papaya, Mango, Atimoya, Liloquoi, Tangore.
Explosion. Of sight, of taste, of mind, and I don't find this too much a stretch to say anymore, of soul.

Now imagine this feeling of sitting on this rooftop after living in a desert with mormons.  I'm not knocking the mormons, and I'm certainly not knocking the desert.  I was thoroughly amazed at how strong and perseverant life is and will always be in landscapes that one wouldn't normally associate it with.  Directors will often film scenes in the Mojave Desert of other planets, alien landscapes, something very foreign to a large percentage of this world's population.  Yet life persists, and even flourishes, when the human touches are both intelligent and kind.  Our farm, if more hands were involved, could deliver weekly sharebaskets to 150 families, on a mere 6 acres of land.  Imagine if more people utilized the land in such ways.  I'm not going to preach now, but small-sustainable communities are the answer.  (Just ask Kurt Vonnegut.)  And the future, and all the crises, will only provide further evidence of this.

A note on the mormons.  I really enjoyed my time spent on there farm.  I feel as if I grew and learned a lot, even if the method of teaching was different than I was used to.  I discovered their religion to be much more complex than I could've imagined, and believe I have gained a fair perspective of their history and their beliefs through the people I've lived with and come in contact with on the farm.  I spoke to those that have left the church, found the church, and have always been with it, or near it and without it.  I can write at much more length without being so vague, but I'll save that for later.  All I intend to include now is that their religion believes itself to be supreme, and absolutely correct, and the only way to salvation.  If you don't accept their beliefs now, they will offer it to you again in the afterlife.  Let's say Maui is a bit more diverse in its belief system.  You get holistic hippies, christians, astrology readers, buddhists, psychics, the occasional jews, atheists, breath-airyans and nihilists.  Every kind of religion and spirituality is practiced on this island, which is, I've check the map, MUCH smaller than Utah.

That atmosphere to this.  That landscape to this.  My tired soul to my refreshed soul, which will undeniably grow tired again soon.  I'm feeling spunky, and young, and I've heaps to learn.  Heaps to write down, heaps to read  and educate myself, heaps to listen to as far as birdsongs go, and an excess of mostly everything, except possibilities to fill my dreams with.  I haven't found myself fantasizing about new places when I've fallen asleep,  I only need to wait a couple of hours and open my eyes in the morning to feel at home again in this not-so-inhospitable Earth.

To summarize, some words I scribbled down on the roof.

the night before
    their escape attempt
one prison dream
    whispered to another
our best starry nights are yet to come

All Pursuits Worthwhile

Hope you enjoy reading the blog, I've come a long way since my last one entitled 'Kryptonite Condom.' I arrive back on the web scene coming from an extraordinary transition in my life.  Leaving the Mojave desert just a week ago on a Mormon Farm, I find myself back on Maui on a Permaculture Farm astutely titled 'Rancho Relaxzo.'

This blog will be a blend of journaling, both reflecting on my own experiences and my observations of others, defining my passions and sharing them (culinary and agriculture related, relating to children, backpacking, traveling), commenting on books/movie, a not-so-subtle plug for both WWOOFing and Permaculture, a place to both organize and expose my original writing for feedback, a pondering of all things related and unrelated, and another step towards finding all pursuits worthwhile.

--

It seems only fitting to explain the name of the blog as my first post.


The name.  It came to me.  Either walking, or sitting.  Probably on a rock. Seems to be the most common time for unintentional wisdom to pass through unnoticed. Hopefully to be recognized later that day, if not longer down the road.  I cherish that moment where a thought resonates with you on a deeper level.  As if you once met this strange thought through a mutual friend, and now you find yourself on more intimate terms with it and decide to go with the thought for a swim in deep blue waters.

Anything can resonate in such a way.  A view.  A quote.  A history lesson.  A postulation.  Everything comes from somewhere, including the beginning.  I wonder if we're on loop.  The cycle of life does work like that on a broad scheme, but it is natural for life to progress and evolve.  So if life is heading in a specific direction, I believe that there had to be a beginning, and not just a roundabout.  Something created the roundabout.

All Pursuits Worthwhile.   Interpret it as being rooted in eastern philosophy.  Question it - is it true? Our modern era receives top marks in skepticism and paranoia and doubting truth-claimers.  If all pursuits aren't worthwhile, which ones are and how do we prioritize the ones that play ball with us.

My thoughts on the matter?  Yes.

Jewish roots and buddhist wings.
Twain tongue and Bukowski panache.
Italian ciabatta and Cuban meat.

Complimenting, contrasting, progressing.
All pursuits are worthwhile because they lead somewhere.
And even if that somewhere is nowhere,
I'll see you there.