December 29, 2004 Wednesday night
The lights of Honolulu are especially poignant tonight. The dark sky and the dark Pacific meet somewhere out there. I can already smell gunpowder from fireworks. Sales have tripled since last year when permits were required. The election put an evil network back into power and the economy is suffering. Here, the blast from the fireworks clears the air of beasts, demons, and bad accumulated thoughts, hence the loading up to dispel the evil. And I keep thinking of the tsunami and the thousands killed, suddenly and unexpectedly, especially as we paddled out tonight past the blinker buoy. The waters had a mild churn and roil because there’s a storm that’s still a few days out. I kept hearing a whale out not too far from where we were in the bay. She stayed out. The ocean reacts to every small and large thought and movement. She is never the same, and will change immediately according to a change in wind, atmosphere, a distant storm or from some other cumulative force. We’ve paddled out in relative calm, and fought our way back through a blocked channel. It’s not always that dramatic. Many times I’ve paddled out or flown over or walked along the shore of this beloved Pacific. Each year there’s more trash and less clear blue. This ocean is the blood of the earth, and the emotional field. Something has to give eventually from the weight of disrespect. When we went out on Sunday the water was jamming perfectly. We had an exhilarating paddle. It was the first time that I felt like I was dancing, that my spirit was coordinated and in time with the ocean, sky and other human travelers, from my belly all the way out. Tonight as we turned in our boat caught a wave and flew for a little while between heaven and earth. This same water that carried us in safely to shore could also destroy us, the city, and bury the island in just a few seconds. It has that much power. Something to think about…so next time you visit her, acknowledge her, sing to her, respect her.