On any journey of self-discovery and seeking the unknowable, one cannot help but notice the inextricable and inevitable influence of place upon progress-to-date – until, of course, one reaches the place of no-place.
Though my own metaphysical journey started in Los Angeles, it quickly became clear that at least for me, further advancement wasn’t going to be easy there; I had to get out. Not to mention that I had, during this initiatory period, stepped foot on this island for the first time and was simply changed forever. Frankly I couldn’t get back here fast enough.
Certain places on the globe seem to resonate with different people for whatever reason; one friend is currently finding solace in the Southwest, another longs for home in Switzerland while away on business, while yet another perhaps more gypsy soul is currently in debate with this particular crazy rock. The ancients knew certain locations resonated with specific planetary energies, and built their monuments/observatories accordingly to harness or intensify the power – for what uses, I might suppose were many.
In terms of spiritual development, paying attention is the key. A place can teach, if we allow it to. I can speak from experience about the Big Island; its energy is palpable, electric, shocking, penetrating and alive. It’s like the Great Pyramid of the Pacific. If tuned to its particular radiance, it tends to force a certain coming-to-terms with elements of oneself in clear and often disturbing reflection, far more rapidly than might normally occur in life somewhere else. Perhaps it’s the seemingly concentrated mega-supernaturality of the place, all confined here on a relatively small patch of land out in the middle of thousands of miles of ocean; I don’t really know what makes this place so magical and transformative. But you can either face yourself, and perhaps some difficult challenges, or you can run away. Trust me; plenty of people choose the latter.
This place isn’t for everyone, and I image it’s the same for all the islands. It’s not a little ironic that “Lost” is filmed in Hawaii – because it’s easy to get lost here, trapped in a kind of psychical warfare with Self in which intriguing clues to endless puzzles dot the landscape of existence, with no escape. This is a unique place which at first seems to be a refuge, where a calm, slow-paced way of life accented by warm weather, beaches and aloha beckons; but a violent and molten core suggests a more turbulent spiritual undercurrent. After about two years, more or less, newcomers are either fully absorbed in the trials by fire and subsequent honing of their character, or are in the process of being expelled. Residents know, the island seems to pick and choose who stays here, simply spitting out the rest. One either resonates with this place, or not – and the ‘nots’ often get a solid kick in the rear on the way out.
In the six years I’ve been here, I can attest to the transformation that has occurred within me – and is still taking place. It hasn’t all been plumeria blossoms and coconuts. I’m stronger, calmer, wiser, but not before some difficult experiences; I exorcised not a few demons, walked the coals, and witnessed the same in loved ones around me who came here. This island, as I’m sure other places too, will heal you, strengthen you and teach you – if you pay attention and let go of your expectations. If you force your own ego upon it and refuse to listen, this island will shake you, rattle you, and even burn you or swallow you whole.
It’s as if this haunted isle is a microcosm of the Tao; within it - for some - are all the tools necessary for transformation of spirit and character, in loudly resonating abundance. Wrong choices exist glaringly alongside the right ones; not necessarily good or bad, as all things become part of one’s conscious development. But certainly they depend on one’s level of awareness and participation; there are plenty of lost souls wandering around out here too, as in any place. Personally I feel blessed to have been led somewhere I could move through my own journey at what seems to be an accelerated pace – where every step rings clearly, announcing itself, sometimes painful, sometimes joyous
