Sting of the vana

Sitting atop the magnificence of the vast pacific ocean, waves gently lapping under the nose of my Aunt's standup paddle board, it's rare that I've felt so immersed in the abundance of the universe. Letting the cacophony of sensations flow through... no attachment, no aversion - simple presence.

Suddenly my awareness shifted as I realized that the gentle lapping of waves had ratcheted up several notches in volume and intensity. Lifting my head and looking around I found I had drifted close to shore where the surf was crashing against the jagged black lava rocks only a few feet ahead. Attaching to my board I now needed my skills in aversion to steer clear of a rather painful incident. So much for my meditation!

As I climbed over the sunken lava rock, waves pushing and pulling on my already tired legs, my heel came down on something sharp that sent a warm toxic pain through my calf muscle.

"That can't be good" I though as I quickly scooted forward to avoid further damage. Vana, I later found out, is the Hawaiian name given to spiky little sea urchins that like to hide in the dark crevices of lava rock.

By the time I had freed myself from the bully arms of the ocean and pulled my board up onto the sandy shore a nickel sized lumpy black spot had formed on the very hot and tender back of my heel.

"Hmm... I guess this means I should take a break," I thought as I hobbled back over to my towel. I was a little worried that, whatever I had stepped on, I might be in for more pain as the toxin made it's way into my blood stream. My aunt hadn't told me any stories of people dying out here from stepping on mysterious hot spiky things... but she also didn't mention that I might encounter such a hazard.

I figured, if it was a life or death matter, I would have been cautioned. I was already concluding that it must have been a sea urchin (even though I really had no idea what that meant) and that it was probably not going cut my adventures short... although it could certainly put a thorn in my heel!

After about thirty minutes, I was confident that I was not going to go into anaphylactic shock and that I could probably get up and limp over to the resort beach house where my aunt was working. Already my concerns of dying alone on the beach were fading. The pain had not gotten any worse and, because it was only affecting the very back of my heel, I could get up and walk without aggravation.

No man is an island

Paradise does not come without a little pain. Personally, I know this. I worked hard to get here and, although it has been quite the vacation so far, my adventures are intended to provide growth and experience over a pleasurable paradise retreat.

The sting of the vana, for all it's warm discomfort, provides a healthy reminder that there is urgent work to be done. Nipping at my heels is the stark reality of how dire our cultural shortsightedness is to our long term survival on this planet.

The Big Island is a striking example of the devastation our myosis can create. When I reached the top of the hill I ran into a landscaper by the name of Mark.

"Your Aunt tells me you're into permaculture," he says glowingly.

"Well yea, it's what is taking me to Australia... I stopped here along the way to visit."

"You ever hear of 'Bill Mollison'?" He asked with a grin.

Before I could even get an answer past my lips he was regaling me with long winded stories of how he once met and worked with Bill in Portugal. His first exposure to permaculture, back in the mid-nineties when it was still "hokey hippy stuff", he says, changed the way he looked at his trade.

He talked to me about building grey water systems and flow-forms as well as something called "Sonic Bloom" where artificial bird sounds are used to induce flowering.

An interesting guy with genuine intentions, Mark's current work involves installing and maintaining landscaping for the uber-wealthy within the Hawaii resort community. He was happy to be making a decent income doing what he loved but he conceded to the challenges of esthetics over the practicality of natural methods. Creating systems of self-renewing fertility does not often fit the esthetic ideals of the super rich.

Mark was optimistic though. He shared with me his vision of reforesting the island, starting from the beach front resorts and moving mauka (Hawaiian for 'toward the mountain'). He then proceeded to tell me some of the history behind how the Big Island came to find itself in the situation it is in now.

The whole island aside from the most immediate lava flows was forested at one time, he explained. "...but the monarchy got greedy and sold all the trees off for guns and alcohol. Now it's all ranch land."

Ranch land indeed. Much of the leeward side of the island is dominated by cattle ranches. Parker Ranch, with nearly 225,000 acres, is the largest and oldest ranch on the island. In fact, Parker Ranch is one of the oldest and largest ranches in the United States!

Near the Volcano National Park, rangers are in the process of fencing out the cattle to restore the once diverse landscape. Needless to say, cattle are in no way endemic to this island. First brought here as a gift to King Kamehameha in the late 1700's, there are now somewhere in the neighborhood of 50,000 head of cattle roaming the 700 square miles of Parker Ranch alone. That is nearly one sixth of the island!

According to a Livestock Management report produced by the University of Hawaii in 2003, even if the islands were to double their production over the following 10 years since the report was written, it would still supply less then half the total state's beef consumption. To re-quote a statistic from an earlier blog, 80 - 85% of Hawaii's food is imported.

This presents a serious challenge for islanders. How can we feed the islands in a responsible and sustainable way? My only hope is that my trip to the small island of Molokai this weekend can help to shed some light on this very interesting subject.

Stay tuned to hear stories from my visit with Malia, president of Sust `aina ble Molokai:

Island life...

It's so stunningly beautiful here that I've forgotten several times today that it's my birthday. I can hardly believe this place exists!

It's not just the natural beauty, the cool ocean breeze, the enchanting chorus of so many songbirds, or even the fact that I can see several mangos ripening on the tree just a few yards in front of me. The real allure is in the eyes of so many beautiful people here. Even in the big city of Honolulu everyone seems to have a soft contentment in their eyes.

It could be so easy to loose myself and become spoiled and complacent in an environment like this. I've already discovered how easy it is to adapt to swimming in the ocean and exploring lush rainforest daily (HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!). It might be considered fortunate (to some) that I'm too much a glutton for punishment and damaged eco-systems to stay here.

That is not to say the islands don't have their problems. Like any place, Oahu struggles with poverty, gentrification, poor public schooling, media consolidation, crime and a litany of other issues that the unsuspecting tourist may never catch wind of -- but the issue that most concerns me is that of food production.

As it turns out, the Hawaiian Islands, despite their ideal soils, year round growing seasons and ample rain fall, is currently importing 80 - 85% of all their food. This is astounding!

It seems even paradise has a long road ahead when it comes to food security. At current consumption, the islands only have enough food for ONE week should the supply chains from the mainland ever become disrupted.  This is very bad news.

The good news? Well, much like Cuba who recently weathered a rather extreme example of what an island community can do with they become cut off from the rest of the world, Hawaii stands a very strong chance of being able to transition back toward a more sustainable balance in consumption vs. production.

It's as much about the climate here as it is about the community. Many folks already understand the dire situation they've come to find themselves in and are working to change it. The private schools are even making it their first priority to help improve the standards in the local public schools.

I feel very confidant in the island peoples ability to begin to change their circumstances and recognize the amazing gifts that are these stunning islands. It wasn't long ago that the entire island chain was entirely self-sufficient. Using a system of land division and management known as Ahupua `a the people of Hawaii were able to produce everything needed.

These days, with an expansive population and disruption of many natural ecologies... it's going to take a lot more than Ahupua `a to feed the islands. On several islands, permaculture is starting to become more ubiquitous and shaping a new way that the islands can rediscover their self-sufficiency.

Next weekend I'll be hopping over to the Big Island to visit my Aunt Chris. I'm very excited as I credit her as my earliest influence in gardening. Growing up in Northern Idaho, I spent much of my childhood in her household snapping green beans, watering the garden, brushing and feeding the horses, throwing rotten chicken eggs... ahem, well that wasn't exactly her influence.

Aunt Chris always had a way of showing me how special the simple things in life were. I'm so excited to reconnect and share with her all the ways her quite and patient influence has guided me.




Until then... Aloha!

Spirit of community...

Sitting on the floor of the Seattle airport. Fortunately, the only airport that had decent internet access was also the one I have the longest layover. In a little under an hour from now I'll be boarding a plane to Honolulu.

I'm still having a hard time processing it all. Setting the intention to make this leap a over a year ago now... I would have never even considered how amazing my life would become even before officially embarking.

My heart swims with a profusion of emotion. For the first time in my life, I've discovered something that seems to elude the vast majority of our society (at least the majority of American society). Community is an enigmatic thing. I'm sure I could wax at length (in fact, I think I have) about various explanations and ways to define the word without ever touching on what it actually means to be apart of one. 

Fact of the matter is, I could have never expected that the experience would be so visceral. A family so loving and dedicated not just to themselves and each other but to all of humanity. We want to change the world and we realized that none of us have what it takes to do that alone. We're going to need to get everyone on board if we hope to have any significant impact.

Without community the whole thing is a wash. Without supporting each other we will get very little accomplished. Only when we act selflessly do we find security. That is not an easy thing to recognize for most of us. Selfless action appears painful... only the true ascetic would bring such things upon himself.

The reality is quite surprisingly opposite. The more you give of yourself, the more is given to you... ultimately allowing you to give even more! The more you open yourself to these channels of energy the more fulfilling you find your life becomes. This is what is meant by "becoming a conduit".

As your giving and your capacity for giving grow you find that more and more people gravitate toward you and, recognizing you as a conduit, are more inclined to share their gifts with you. As they share and open up they too can discover the power of this positive feedback loop of selflessness. Before you know it, a whole community is loving and sharing and supporting each other (and you) while the stock of the of individual security increases exponentially.

Need a place to stay? I know 30 people that would love to take in a generous and loving soul. Looking for a helping hand with a project? I'll pick up a shovel with you because I know it's going to help feed a poor household.

This is only a small sliver of what it's like to experience real community. And now, after all the things I ever wanted from life started to surface out of these realizations... I'm taking that leap forward and leaving the family I just met to make more family on the other side of the world.

When I have a family reunion... I want 7 billion people celebrating with me! And I want our celebration to not only be about the discovery of this human family... but the discovery that by working together, we can heal all wounds, lift all debt, alleviate every bit of suffering and cultivate a world of peace, love and abundance for all.

What's burning in East Texas?

Just east of the Davy Crockett National Forest lies a little patch of red dirt I might one day call home. Douglass, Texas... crazy as it sounds, this place has a lot to offer. Pine trees, rich soils, natural springs, loving family and some of the most beautiful land in Texas are just a few of pleasures I have the good fortune to enjoy before my adventures ahead.

But is is all pleasure, the drought has hit this land particularly hard. Ponds and creeks are almost entirely dried up. Livestock and wildlife are struggling, not just to stay hydrated but to stay fed. Typical pastureland does not weather these arid extremes well... in fact, typical pastureland does not weather any extremes very well.

The vegetation is all but missing from the landscape this year. What is left hardly appeals to the ranging cattle. Many ranchers have sold off their herds early and those who haven't have had to invest a lot in imported feed to keep them going. Either way, conditions like these make ranching a costly venture.

To make an already bleak situation worse, it seems when the high-pressure front that has hovered over most of Texas all summer, and prevented many a storm front from quenching this parched landscape, has at last moved on, it does so not with much needed rain but rather with raging winds.

As I write this, there are evacuations just minutes up the road from where I sit. The smell of smoke hangs in the air and an orange glow lights up the sky to the North West. All that lies between my parents sapped land and a devastating inferno is a pine forest (tinderbox) and a small band of dedicated firefighters.

For us, fortunately, we will be spared this evening. The winds are in our favor and the flames are unlikely to make it this far tonight. Here's to hoping the winds don't shift!

Other's have not been so lucky. Continuing to add insult to injury, this summer will not subside without great losses to land, livestock, homes and wildlife. The thousands of acres ablaze across Bastrop and all throughout Texas today is an unfortunate example.

There are no easy solutions to the situation we are witness to this year. And, with the continual degradation of our landscape through deforestation, ecological neglect and agricultural misunderstandings there is a good chance the situation will get worse before it improves.

Not only is this trend held in place by many causes, it also doesn't seem to be localized to just Texas. All across the world, deserts are expanding while natural forests decline at alarming rates.

Despite the obvious challenges, there is a lot that we can do to turn this trend around... but it's going to take quite a shift from our current practices of land management. What we need is a holistic approach. Building on systems such as Holistic Land Management, Permaculture and reforestation efforts we can begin to rebuild our soils, buffer damage from natural disasters, recharge our springs, aquifers and rivers, and even increase precipitation.

These changes are going to require a great deal of cooperative effort on our part. Only by working together are we going to be able to have any substantial recuperative impact on our environment.