Hawaii 5 O.M.G. Part 4: Bali Hai May Call You. . .

Shari loves to read community bulletin boards wherever we go.  They are like small windows into the local culture where you can find out what’s really going on in the community – the informal economies, industries, and interests that thrive just outside the normal channels of the mainstream.  In looking at the bulletin boards outside the post offices, town halls, shopping areas, bakeries, etc. you will find peppered throughout the notices about missing cats and roommate wanted signs an abundance of fliers dedicated to alternative healing through a universe of holistic disciplines.  Here there is a higher concentration of such fliers than in other places we’ve traveled – even more than in Asheville, NC, Berkley, CA, and Boulder, CO.   

Within the borders of a 4 by 12 foot piece of fiber board on Kaua'i you can find your true self, discover inner peace, restore well being, balance your chakras, teach your inner child to laugh again, and of course, practice many forms of yoga and tai chi on the beach.   If you find yourself with enough time, patience, money, and the appropriate level of self-obsession, you can accomplish all of these goals.  

Could there be a better signal of a robust economy pumping out alternative healing?   If business is good, there must be more than a few people in need, or think they are in need, of healing in one form or another.  For whatever reason, the damaged, injured, blocked, and otherwise unhealthy are flocking to Kaua’i and finding that though they’ve come 2400 miles from the nearest continental land mass -- their baggage, so to speak, often catches up with them.   

“Mother Kaua’i either accepts you or she spits you out,” is the mantra we heard from many people, yet few offered concrete examples of this phenomenon.  Anecdotally documented by a string of failed haole businesses, and people returning to the mainland with money gone and tail tucked between their legs, it’s become accepted lore here.  Regardless of circumstances, those who remain on this tiny dot within Big Blue all agree that life is difficult – as if the legend becomes a badge of honor.  There are not enough good jobs, the cost of living is way too high, the traffic is out of control, and the isolation of the place contributes to this commonly held belief.  The one standout example bucking this trend is our friend Katie who got a job with HI’s DLRM office prior to ever setting foot in the time zone.  She had one bugger of a time getting her husband here from the Republic of Vanuatu, where she served in the Peace Corps; the bureaucratic hell they went through was impressive, to say the least, and proves that love wins over paperwork. 

So why do they stay if it’s so hard?  Could it be that proximity to the beach, great surf, the shoeless casualness of even formal affairs, and laidback lifestyle make too potent a cocktail to leave?  And if they truly believe in the islands’ aloha spirit, why are they such assholes on the road?   

The answer lies in those signs on the community bulletin boards.  Here is a place of holistic healing – someplace where people can work out their shit.  This is both wonderful and incredibly challenging.  People take care with one another, they hug each and every time they see a friend, they value the gifts that person brings to their lives, and they aren’t stingy when it comes to throwing a couple bucks into my guitar case on market mornings.   For this and all the magic that Kaua’i showed me, I will be forever grateful. 

At the same time, some of the folks we met along the north shore almost assume that everyone coming here needs healing.  Are they so eager to see themselves reflected in you, the new-comer looking at paradise for the first time?  While some may find it welcoming and empowering, I wonder if it isn’t also self-fulfilling.   

The owner of the farm on which we volunteered is a good example of someone in need of healing.  Within a few short weeks, we went from feeling as if our maturity, experience, and work ethic meant something to feeling as if we were 15 years old requiring feedback about every micro-detail of our work.  It began as small things, minor corrections, but quickly grew to questioning our intentions and judgment.  His behavior felt manipulative, controlling and just plain weird.  We are no strangers to conflict management, hard physical work, and attention to detail.  All humbleness aside, you can find these attributes on our calling card.  Yet, even after multiple genuine conversations to try to improve things, within a week we found ourselves feeling like nothing we did was good enough or accomplished quickly enough.  Does a sincere hug and “I’m working on it,” absolve one of the responsibility to actually work on it and treat people better?  He was single-handedly putting the "ass" into asshaole.

I’m afraid our experience with him really shaped our experiences with others on Kaua’i.  We know that not everyone on Kaua’i is a north shore haole.  There are plenty of great folks who truly care about others, are genuinely happy, and are just living life.  But, if you’ve ever been around a wounded or sick animal which lashes out without provocation simply because it’s in pain then you understand the kind of collateral damage healing people can cause.  Simply put, the farm owner is an angry dog who has been wrongfully abused (by someone?) and growls and barks at anyone who moves his bone.  What’s worse is that he masquerades as a genuinely nice guy, and talks the talk of self-awareness, healing, compassion, and balance.  Refer to “Love Will Show You the Way” (date).

After taking  more than her share of his shit, Shari said, “I respect that he’s working on it, but I don’t want to be the person he is working on it with.  Been there, done that, too many times…this wasn’t in the vooollluuuunnnnteeeer agreement.”  My thoughts exactly.  For us, finding a balance between self-preservation and compassion is what we are taking away from this experience.  

I’ve always believed that doing the right thing is important, even at the price of my own needs.  As a middle child I am skilled at seeing other perspectives and seeking compromise to conflict.  But, at some point, you have got to stand up for yourself and say, “No, I’m not the problem here. Actually, dude, you are…and we are outta here in 2 weeks.”  This much notice wasn’t part of the agreement either, there’s that “do the right thing” coming up again.  He can work on it all he wants, and I wish him nothing but love and light.   But, we won’t be heading back that way again anytime soon.  

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to baggage -- got a matching set dragging behind me, every now and again a wheel falls off and throws up sparks.  For us, Mother Kaua’i made us deal with some of that shit, and at the time it felt pretty overwhelming.  I’m not sure that she spat us out, but I’m not sure that she totally embraced us either.  

As the woman sitting behind us on our return flight to the mainland so eloquently said when she heard that we were heading home to North Carolina, “I’ve experienced more aloha in the Carolinas than in Hawaii, and I’ve lived here for nearly 30 years.”