The Spell

I've always dreamed of sitting around and doing nothing.

It's been about a month since the last of the major projects on the cabin have been completed. Kim and I have been blessed with the luxury of time to sit, to listen to ourselves, and to gain clarity for what's ahead. Although I've never been a fan of the Puritan work ethic that seems to drive a large portion of this country, I have found that there is some truth in the statement, "Idle hands are the Devil's workshop." This is especially true if there is too much time to think and the ego gets a hold of the loudspeaker.

For awhile we fell under the spell of lethargy. Days would be flowing into days without any real drive to move forward. But the real danger of lethargy can be found in it's Greek origin lethargos or forgetfulness. In our idleness we were forgetting why we were out on the land. We would drive through the neighborhood around Bodhi's school and wonder if we should have bought a one acre lot with a house already on it rather than a ten acre lot of raw land. What the heck are we going to do with ten acres of raw land? Is life in the middle of a tropical rainforest really for us?

About a week ago, when we were in Honolulu, there were days of torrential rain storms here on the Big Island and the cabin got it. We came back to find mold all over our dining room table, on Bodhi's toys, and on some of our clothes. The only real succinct way to describe it is---gross. We spent the first two days back on the Big Island at Karen's in Hilo, while Kim and I went up to the land to clean up the mess left by the big rains. We got the place cleaned up pretty well, all of the laundry washed, and of course, as it always does, the sun broke through the clouds for a few days and dried up everything. When the sun did show, the temperature was in the high 60s with breezes blowing out of the north. It's the time of year when the sun comes in at an angle that casts long shadows across the landscape. It was glorious to be out on the land, having breakfast on the deck, listening to jazz and feeling the cool drying breeze blow over what was once wet and boggy.

As I sit here and write this it's easy to see the gloriousness of what we are experiencing as a family. But sometimes when you are in the midst of muddy feet and wet everything, the longing for modern conveniences run high. These feelings come at you fast when you have idle time.

I'm in no way advocating busyness for the sake of busyness. I saw a lot of that in Honolulu. One of the things I noticed was that not a lot of people just hang out in Honolulu during a week day. I was at Ward Center at lunch time and everyone around seemed to be very directed; either a business lunch meeting, rushing through a meal, or behind the wheels of their cars heading back to the office. The only people I noticed really hanging out were senior citizens, 20 something college students, mommies with young babies, and the well heeled set.

When you walk around Hilo Town on a weekday, it seems like everyone is just hanging out.

Where do we find the balance between being and doing? Too much idleness leads to the mire of lethargy and a feeling of purposelessness. Too much activity without contemplation leads to the unexamined life that Socrates warns us about. It's a matter of balancing the two aspects of our being. As spiritual beings, being in a state of Being is enough. But as physical beings in this material world, we crave action and movement to create some sense of purpose in our lives. There is no judgement on either aspect of our being, it just is what it is.

Thanksgiving, and a few days before, really helped to break the acedia for Kim and I. A couple of days before Thanksgiving, I was asked to dust off my ordination and officiate a wedding ceremony. At first, I didn't want to perform the ceremony. It had been a few years since Kim and I had officiated a wedding and I was feeling out of practice and not looking forward to being in front of a group a people. It had been raining a lot on the morning of the wedding and there was a part of me that was hoping the couple would cancel the whole affair. About two hours before the event, the sun broke through and the ocean front location was absolutely gorgeous. The bride and groom looked young and nervous standing in front of me and in front of all of their family and friends. They had, however, that sparkle of new wonderful beginnings. Being a part of the union of the young couple was very meaningful and helped me to make a crack in the shell of spiritual apathy that was currently surrounding my Higher Self.

Preparing for our Thanksgiving meal was also a real balm to my soul. For me, being out in Karen's garden and breaking a sweat while harvesting the corn, being in the hot kitchen helping to chop, stir, lift, pour, and washing dishes and pots until my fingers were pruned was revitalizing and refreshing. And each trip to the store on Thanksgiving morning for oil, or pie crusts, or whipped cream, or canned pumpkins, was a pilgrimage to purposefulness. I truly appreciated that the spell of lethargy was being broken on the day set aside specifically for giving thanks. It is so appropriate that Thanksgiving leads the way into the Christmas Season, because in order for us to truly be in a space of giving and receiving we must first be in a space of gratitude for what we already have.

So as far as the dream of sitting around and doing nothing, I do believe it needs to get balanced out with mindful action. The followers of the teachings of Ernest Holmes' Science of Mind practice doing spiritual treatments. A spiritual treatment is an affirmative statement of one's intention, basically an affirmative prayer request. Many Science of Mind practitioners are familiar with the statement, "Treat, treat, treat, then move your feet". So when do we know it's a good time to move our feet? Well here's a little story that helps me contemplate that question.

A hawk and a vulture are flying in the sky. The hawk was flapping his wings hard and was very excited about hunting for a meal. The hawk exclaimed,"Ohhh! boy ohhh boy! I'm going to catch me some rabbit today! MMMMM! Rabbit. You ready to eat some rabbit?"
"I'm just waiting on the will of God." answered the vulture.
"Waiting? I'm not waiting for anything! First rabbit I see, I'm devouring."
"I'm just waiting on the will of God." said the vulture.
Just then the hawk spots a rabbit and knowing exactly what he wanted, he bared his talons and darts toward the rabbit. Just as the hawk was about to grab the rabbit, the rabbit hops out of the way and the hawk crashes straight into a pile of rocks and drops dead. Up above, the vulture circled around the scene a few times, gently glided down to the hawk, and whispered to himself, "Waiting on the will of God."

Happy Thanksgiving

This little video skit was inspired by Bodhi's process of planting corn seeds in Karen's garden, watching them grow and harvesting them for Thanksgiving dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. We'll be posting more blog entries next week when Bodhi is back in school.

The Destination

Bubbles and a three year old are magical.

A few afternoons ago, Kim, Bodhi and I were out on our lawn area blowing bubbles.  The sun was setting, so the sky had that wonderful feel of oranges, pinks, blues and purples.  The clouds were thin and whispy and streaked with color.  The iridescent bubbles reflected the sky and the cabin as Bodhi ran after them in the tall grass.  It was early enough that the coqui frog hadn't come out yet, but the birds had already started to settle in for the night.  The only sound was our deep resonant wind chime blowing in the gentle breeze and the sound of Bodhi's feet rustling up the grass.  It was a splendid moment.

Kim and I have been having a few grass is greener conversations.  The conclusion Kim has come to is that the grass is greener wherever you water it.  Lucky for us it rains a lot here in Ola‘a.  The weather has been absolutely gorgeous for us.  We've had blue sunny skies that have been clear enough for us to see the tops of Mauna Kea everyday. And as we lay our heads on our pillows we're lulled to sleep with the patter of rain on the corrugated steel roof.  We wake every morning to a full catchement tank and another day of blue, blue skies.  I was telling Kim that I must be vibrating beauty, because I am seeing it all around me.

I've had a case of itchy feet with varying degrees of severity ever since I was a college student.  I went away for a awhile to study at SUNY Stonybrook in New York, and that is where I heard the call to the road.  The next thing I knew, I was on a flight to the UK to study at the University of London for a semester abroad.  A year later I spent a semester studying at the University of Copenhagen in Denmark.  Shortly after college, Kim and I got married and headed off to Japan to teach English.  Coming back to Hawai‘i from Japan for the last 11 years has been the longest time Kim and I have spent in one place.  We feel very committed to this place that we both call our childhood home.  But every once in awhile the road seems to call me with it's seductive pointer finger beckoning me to come out and play.  Maybe it's Portland.  Maybe it's Ashland.  Maybe it's the Bay Area.  Maybe Canada.  Maybe Australia.  Maybe Italy.  Maybe Paris.

For Mark Twain it was the Mississippi River and for Jack Kerouac it was the roadways of America that represented the feeling of unbounded freedom.  They represent the same thing for me.  The ability to get out of my normal routine and out of my sense of self is very appealing.  There is something freeing in the feeling of heading somewhere with the optimistic hope that it's better than here.

Kim and I are funny travelers.  When we go to a new place we tend to find ourselves going to cafes to sit, going to  nice restaurants to eat, or finding quiet places to read.  Basically, we tend to do the same things we do when we are here in Hawai‘i but in a new geographic location.  We are huge fans of the 90s TV series "Northern Exposure".   When the show was on regular TV we would watch it religiously and whenever the opening theme music would come on, we would get naked and dance around crazily in our living room.  By the final season a new doctor and his wife were introduced to the show.  They were the kind of people that every few years would move to a new place.  In one episode, they had the profound realization that whenever things got tough they would, "pack up the china."  That episode was meaningful to Kim and I.  We had, over the years, found that was our trend.  In some circles it's known as "pulling a geographic".  It's the idea that moving to a new place will somehow bring about a better life.  But the truth is, no matter where you move to, you will still be you and whatever luggage you bring along will follow you to the new location.

I think Kim is right in her realization that the grass is greener wherever you water it.  So what do we do about the itchy feet?  A few years ago, while we were on trip here from Honolulu.  We were standing on a bridge looking at this beautiful lagoon in Hilo.  We were talking about what we want in our life.  We came to the conclusion that our lives don't have to be an either/or proposition.  We don't have to choose either Hawai‘i or some other place.  It can be an and/both proposition.  We can live in Hawai‘i and Paris.  We can be both grounded and free.  I know, I know we tend to primarily go to cafes and restaurants when we are in a new place, but isn't it so much cooler to sip cafe at a Parisian cafe than to have a cup of coffee at Starbucks?  

Henry Miller once said, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."  We will water the grass here and allow our roots to grow deep with the knowingness that our only destination is to know ourselves.  We can take that knowingness with us wherever we go and enjoy whatever kind of wonderfulness this world has to offer.

Pictures

This is the back view of the cabin.  It has two bays for cars and tractor.  The stairs and floor of the "dinning deck" were built by Jim and Andrew.  The second floor is more of a formal living area.

Andrew also put in shelves for Bodhi's toys.  We painted the deck to, hopefully, protect it from the moisture that is all around us.

View of cabin kitchen from dinning table on deck. We bought a propane camping stove from Costco.  It works pretty well.  Andrew doesn't do a lot of oven cooking anyway--and we got rid of our microwave years ago---so really this is all we need.  We even do our toast on the open flame with this handy campers' toast gadget and heat some bath water nightly using our teakettle.  We bring in drinking water in 7 gallon blue containers.  You can see our cooler and our wonderful sink.

View from front entrance to 1st floor of cabin.  So we have a kitchen deck and then the dinning/Bodhi toy area deck.  And storage.

This is a marine grade cooler.  It takes 4 blocks of ice--if you didn't open it, it would stay cold for two weeks---but for us 4 blocks last us 7 days.

Front storage area and stairs leading up to the second floor.

Railings at the top of the stairs---Andrew built these so Bodhi wouldn't take to flying.  They look real nice!  One of his first projects by himself.

Upstairs Lanai view from the top of the stairs.  Andrew and Jim had put plywood up, instead of railings--to Bodhi proof the area.  It's very serene up there.

View of lanai from other direction.

French door entrance to main living area.  The upstairs room is surrounded by windows.

Kind of a living room/bedroom.  Very comfy.

Left side of room--if you were standing at the doors.

Right side view from doors.

Happy Bodhi---Loves his trains!

Kermit---the pet Chameleon--hangs out inside the bedroom every day.

Bodhi at front of cabin.

And that concludes the tour folks.  I know some had already seen these on facebook---but just in case you missed them, I thought I should repost.

Wouldn't it be nice if. . .

We must have been vibrating dog energy.

Where there were none, now there are two. It was about a week ago that Kim and I started talking about getting a dog. Our conversations about these things usually start with, "Wouldn't it be nice if . . .?". This time it went something like, "Wouldn't it be nice to have a dog for the land and for Bodhi?". Within a few days of posing this question, Mister Dog started appearing on the scene. Although he remains this phantom apparition that appears and disappears, he has definitely gotten more comfortable with us. I've had situations where I'm working on something and I look up, I see him standing in front of me, I look away for a second, he's gone, I turn around and he's standing behind me. It freaks me out sometimes. He's taken to being a troll living under our deck and seems to come out when he smells food cooking. Now to add to this, Bodhi's Godfather, Reverend Mark, calls Kim on Friday and asks if we're willing to take one of his dogs, Butch. Apparently, tiny little Butch has developed an appetite for Mark's neigbor's chickens and has come home with them in his mouth.

Kim and I have always been people to follow the flow of life and so it seems that the currents of the stream have brought us not one, but two dogs. Butch is one of those tiny little dogs that thinks he is a big dog. He's already gotten charged at Mister Dog to establish his role as the alpha male. I don't want to paint a picture of Butch being a vicious, chicken killing, mongrel. He is a sweet dog that gets so excited to see us when we get home, loves to hop into my lap when I'm sitting, and just loves, loves, loves to get rubbed down, scratched and petted.

We think Mister Dog will always be a shadow figure that comes around for a free meal and then goes off and lives his own life. That's okay with us, he's been gentle enough so far.

It's amazing what happens when you put your desires out and they mesh with your beliefs as to what is possible. Ten years ago, when Kim and I came to the Big Island for a cousins graduation, we fell in love with this place and asked ourselves, "Wouldn't it be nice to live here?". At that time we thought we would move to the Big Island in about three years. Three months later, however, we are running an ocean front bed and breakfast on the Big Island.

The bed and breakfast had a broken pool that was filling up with rain water. Kim saw this and said to me, "Wouldn't it be nice to have koi for the pool?". We didn't mention this to anyone, but a day later a friend calls and says,"Hey, I know a guy who has 30 koi he doesn't want anymore. You want them?". When our time as innkeepers was coming to an end, we took a drive around the island to take in some of the beautiful scenery this place has to offer. As we drove through Waimea, I looked at Kim and in a very matter of fact way asked, "Wouldn't it be nice to live here?". Within two months we were both working on a ranch on the upper road leading out of Waimea Town.

This formula of asking and receiving, that we learned from Reverend Mark and from the teachings of Abraham, has worked over and over again for us. It's really the process of focussing your desires on what is wanted over what is not wanted and then allowing your desires to flow into your life. The challenging part is the allowing, because this aspect of the formula deals with what you believe is possible. You may desire a million dollars, but if you don't believe it is possible to have it, it won't flow into your life.

So in this vast Universe what are we willing to believe is possible? Is it possible to believe that life supports us? Is it possible to believe that life flows as a constant stream of health, abundance and peace? Is it possible to believe that if we surrender to the flow of the stream, instead of fighting to swim against the current, that all our desires will come into our life?

Wouldn't it be nice to believe all these things and more are possible? Wouldn't it be nice if...