Thoreau

Thoreau has been my hero and my inspiration for this experiential journey into nature I am on. When he went to Walden Pond for two years, he wrote a book, which would eventually become his philosophies, his own guidebook to life. That is what I want for myself.  His journey into Walden Pond was a journey into his spirit. His comments about society and nature as just as relevant now as they were then, though so much has changed since then: automobiles, plastic, television, telephone, airplanes, rocketships, computers, refrigeration. Those previous items are not destroying the planet per se, but rather the insatiable desire human beings have for comfort.  Our desire for comfort has moved us further away from nature. We have removed most of our natural predators and those annoying bugs. Most people now live in an urban setting.

The human race has never been more interconnected in all of its history. Our communication runs at a rapid speed and we know what is happening around the globe at all times. Its potential is phenomenal.  However, we have never been more disconnected with nature, most people living in an urban setting. Every aspect of life on this planet is profoundly altered by the way our culture has organized its business of its existence.

Feeling frustrated, helpless and confused on exactly how to live my life by my philosophies (most of which are being discovered now) in a culture where every action seems to support the destruction of the Earth, I sought refuge, clarity and answers by living thorough in harmony with nature. Fortunately, I will have many more days and nights here to experience nature’s lessons that will lead to some answers. I want enough answers to get some direction on how to proceed in this world, as we know it. I am lost.

I still want to be a part of society because I love humanity! I know I still have a lot to learn from people, therefore I do not desire to live out all my days of my life here on this island. At the moment however, I do not know how I would live once I return to the civilization.

It seems as if the damage done to the planet has already gone too far and there is no turning back time. The rainforest are disappearing and soon we won’t believe be able to breathe. The landfills are filled with garbage that may never biodegrade.  People are now attempting to recycle their bottles and cans, though large companies neglect their own responsibility of using recycled materials.  On cans of coke, it says, “Please recycle” as if it is the consumer’s responsibility, as if we have the capabilities of melting glass and aluminum in our kitchens, next to our toaster and coffee makers. They killed the electric car and we are using up our oil so fast, soon we will run out and not be able to fly anywhere anymore.

So what is my responsibility? Do I continue to live in harmony with nature, as just one person in a sea of pollution, but living according to my philosophies? Or do I volunteer and dedicate my life to organizations that work to change the direction of the destruction? Or has it gone too far and should I just enjoy my life? Human’s inner-spirit must change in order to have a profound affect on their behavior towards the earth. Do I pray for change? Do I do it all, or I do I do none? Will we just end up like the dinosaurs, our death a mystery to future forms of existence? Or will we completely annihilate the planet and energies will become some other realm? Or will us humans over come this spiritual darkness to save the planet only to read about this time in history as the most important war ever fought? Not for country’s territories or religion, but the war to save the planet? I pray for the latter comment and the wisdom to accept all the different possibilities of perfection.

All these questions have been on my mind for quite some time, long before this journey into nature was a concept, but have consumed my thoughts today. Eddie and I discussed the omnipresent earth crisis. Over population and the earth seems to be headed towards some drastic change. He talked about some theories of politics being evil, but I believe that another human may be able to hurt my body and heart, but never has the capability of touching my soul. For these reasons and many others, I would like to start my own tribe, dedicated to peace and to the earth. I know from my childhood that communal living has many obstacles, but I am still idealistic in the concept of finding a secluded piece of land to live according the groups political and spiritual philosophies.

Eddie and I discussed these dreams of mine and he is interested, but he, “has something he needs to produce”. I must respect his desires, though it is difficult because we are at different places. He desires R&R before he begins a project back in NYC. I am here to explore further and further into myself, and the NYC me has become a blurry remembrance of an old me. I love him, no matter what he does for a living, but I certainly wish he had different goals.

Whilst I contemplate the salvation of mother Gaia and my responsibility, asking the universe for answers and exploring the possibility of developing a new society, Eddie also ponders.  He keeps in touch with his contacts in NYC through a phone at the main camp and involves many large corporations. It is becoming more of a reality and one of the large corporations involved is Mitsubishi. It is flattering and exciting for Eddie, but bewildering to me because the company is the single largest loggers of the Brazilian Rainforest. Eddie doesn’t feel he has the power to eliminate such an economical possibility at this point in his career. I feel that human’s cannot wait until they are in the perceived position to make a difference. You must follow your beliefs NOW!

Although no decisions needed to be made today, the possibility of needing to make this decision weighed heavily on Eddie. I cannot force my beliefs onto him. I want to guide, but never force. I realize it is tough for him and I was compassionate.

Creativity

Feeling somewhat settled in my home, I ventured off to live one of my fantasies and play my saxophone on the beach. Playing the saxophone is one of the things I can say I purely enjoy, but then again, I enjoy so many things. This is so true, that often people tell me that what is holding me back from succeeding. I have so many opinions about success; success according to others and success according to me. My personal philosophy on success is surmised in Jackie Robinson’s famous quote, “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”

I have never been more confused about my career than I am right now. I was always ambitious, but giving up my profession to live here has given me the feeling of freedom too good to not acknowledge as a good thing. My desire to succeed– and I use that term just how the dictionary defines it: 1) achieve attention 2) gain fame, wealth or power 3) make significant progress was so overbearing for most of my life that I believe it clouded my capability for any real joy for what I was doing. I gave up a potential acting career, with a high-powered agent, jobs and connections to come down here. I took myself off the track. I couldn’t be more thrilled. My attraction to acting was so convoluted with feelings of wanting to prove to the whole world that I was ok. Once I began to address these issues of inadequacy, acting was no longer enough. Of course, there wasn’t all bad memories and what I learned as a creative person, I can apply to any art form from music, to dancing to writing.

I know that now I despise acting and am ashamed to say that once I as part of a group that are so riddled with insecurities that they endure great hardships just to prove how wonderful they are. I suppose not everyone is exactly like me and did not have the same motives in acting.

I also know that if I chose, I find my description of success in anything I chose. Everyone can.

Saxophone brings me great joy. It was destiny that I play it from the minute I was given the sax after my other friend Eddie said I could be in his surf band if I learn to play the sax. I was playing by that Friday night! It was magical and makes me feel magical, but does it have to be more than that? Does it need to be my career? Should we hold up anything that we have a gift or love for as our way to make a living? Isn’t it enough to be able to do what we like to do?

I played my saxophone at the other end of the beach and enjoyed myself immeasurably.

Water Baby

I am a water baby, not by definition, but by spirit.  I wasn’t born into the water, though I believe in the benefits of water birth. I did swim before I walked and my first word that I spoke was, “wa-wader”. People either feel comfortable and at home in the water or uncomfortable or downright frightened of the water. I NEED it. I have always been a swimmer and even competed for a time. I have surfed, water-skied, scuba-dived, sailed, rowed, river rafted. You name it, if it’s in the water, I have either done it, or would. I would sail to Tahiti on a cupcake.

I never felt comfortable competing or even counting laps. Swimming is my form of meditation and nourishment for my soul. I feel like I am once again the womb and able to nurture myself maternally as I wasn’t efficiently cared for as a child.  The ocean in particular is a source of energy of a magnitude almost incomprehensible to me, providing me with enlightenment, sustenance, and strength.  Just to be near the source, hearing its rhythmic pulse of the waves is necessary to my soul. To immerse myself in water is submerging my body, my mind and my spirit is going home.

I haven’t truly swum since I have been here. Of course, I have been in the ocean, everyday, several times. I’ve snorkeled, cleansed, surfed and played in the ocean, but I haven’t swum for miles on end. Not a black line to follow like the pools in NYC, but a live coral reef to watch as I swam from one side of the bay to the next. Needless, to say, it was the most extraordinary swim, feeling a part of the underwater world. 

Living in a Tree

We have now made a new home in a treehouse in Brewer’s Bay. Although someone originally built this sweet home in an almond tree, we are going to add to it to make it feel like our home. The pathway is severely overgrown, since the original occupant moved out long ago. It has so much lush foliage surrounding it that it is completely hidden from any other camp on the grounds.  I must admit that (since I was so attached to Rogue’s Bay) it is thoroughly enchanting. So much so that we have named it the Enchanted Jungle.  It is only moments from the sandy beach and warm aqua colored ocean, but has a jungle environment. There are many banana, papayas, coconuts and even avocado trees at our ‘doorstep’. It feels so different to be elevated with my feet dangling over the edge of our ‘porch’ just outside the tent. The perspective is that of another tree and feeling the leafy branches blow around with the trade winds is one of the magical feelings I have ever experienced. One I would not have chosen to sacrifice to live again in Rogue’s Bay.

There were many blessings during our grace before our meal tonight. Even though I have been a vegetarian as long as I could make the decision, I believe in the Native American Indian philosophies of hunting. They do not kill animals gratuitously and they take on the energy of the animal they killed. They kill responsibly.  I will eat meat if it is done this way. Eddie had caught his first fish since we arrived. He had been out spear fishing many times, but could not catch a fish until today. It was a beautiful Rock Hind and he prayed and gave thanks to one of his brothers who gave his life to nourish our bodies. It was a beautiful experience.

Treehouse

I say with mixed emotions that I will be moving again. Most probable we will move into a treehouse that someone built at Brewer’s Bay. I am becoming conscious that as I search for a home in the Caribbean for my experiment, that wherever I am home. I was very attached to Rogue’s Bay and the concept of living there. Because of its beauty and isolation, it represented the idea I had after reading Walden.  However, it really is just an attachment not necessarily true or based in reality. I could be justifying the fact that I am giving up my dream and that is depressing. Unknown.

As fond of as I am about the finer things in life, I always feel relieved when my favorite possessions are lost or stolen. I no longer need that attachment that begins to burden me. I have many belongings still in San Francisco and New York City. It is liberating to have just a few items with me right now.  How nice to be a gypsy, traveling from place to place with what I can carry on my back.  Settling down for the comfort of security sounds like such a compromise that it borders on subjugation. Actually how many belongings would a person truly possess if they had to literally carry them on their back everyday? The more personal effects a person owns, the heavier the burden is. Even if you don’t actually carry them on your back, there is the encumbrance of protecting them from being stolen or time spent cleaning them. We gather and hoard our “treasures” when the most magnificent treasures could never be owned or gathered.

There was an awesome storm today, forcing us to look up into the sky filled with lightening. Look and listened we did. It was the beginning of a hurricane. Combined with the fact that the motor on our boat was not working and the severity of the storm, we were kept at Brewer’s Bay all day and possibly for another day and night. We were not expecting this naturally, how could we? We only have a few belongings with us and all of our possessions are improperly stored at Rogue’s Bay for rain. Momentarily, I worried about my stuff being blown away or destroyed.  I judged myself for having this feeling, for although our property is precious to us, we really didn’t need them. Ultimately, there are no material creations that are essential to my existence.

After I pondered possessions, I decided to cheer Mother Nature on. I ran onto the beach in the rain. I told her to speak with her brilliance, that I am listening to what she has to say. I wanted to see her growth and power. I said aloud, “ show me your magnificence, my eyes are open to see.” I was ready to understand her mysterious ways. I surrendered to the path that was being laid out for me. I was finished with fighting.

Utopia Threatened

The bright sunshine woke me up early this morning promising another glorious day in paradise, or so I chose to believe. Mervin was coming by to pick us up so go into town to get our food supplies. A light quick rain soon followed. Rain MUST always be welcome when you are living off the land and need water to drink. We need to now make sure we store the water in the reservoir properly this time.

The mosquitoes were the last straw for Eddie. He is not happy living here. I came to the conclusion today that to avoid disappointment, I need to not hold too tightly onto plans. Promises are a difficult thing to keep and my disillusionment in promises reached epic proportions today. Eddie’s desire to move has been growing. He would rather live at Brewer’s Bay, the campsite that we started out living in. He doesn’t want to rough it anymore.

After a painful boat trip to Brewer’s Bay, the owner of the campsite, Styles, greeted us. He informed us that where we were living, Rogue’s Bay was illegal and not only did he know about our residence there, but so did fishermen.  He added that before we got any deeper and were deported by the tourist bureau, we should get a place to camp with him. It seemed like a sales pitch to me, but Eddie was taking it as ‘friendly advice’. My reaction was to head back to our bay and stop talking to him. He knows too much about us and his motives aren’t friendly. Everyone else told us it was legal because the British Crown believed that no one can “own” the beach. Even Mervin, who works for conservation for Tortola said it was ok. Mervin told us about the bay when we were looking for a destination. I trust Mervin.

Eddie wanted to move and I was beginning to feel that Tortola was the wrong destination for my dream of living like an Indian.  I blamed Eddie for bringing me to this island, since I originally had reservations about the surfing here and he had talked me into it. He said the most important thing was we were together, but I wanted my dream. Fiercely. Kim (the girlfriend of Dillinger) was moving and selling her car. Eddie wanted to buy the car and sell our boat and move into Brewer’s Bay. My dream was falling apart before my eyes.

Paul, a man who had been living on the campsite for 2 years, who I had met briefly a few days earlier, came to chat with us as we tried to call the boat shop to inform them the motor wasn’t working properly.  When we found out the boat shop was closed for the pending hurricane that was coming down from Texas, Paul invited us to his campsite. I was rattled by all the troubles that were bombarding us. Eddie and I chose to interpret everything the opposite, though I do admit, he was trying to rescue and protect us. We were not getting along. Something ominous did seem to be happening and I didn’t feel like being social.

But arriving at his campsite was what I needed to experience. Paul’s ‘campsite’ was magical. It was unexpected and unlike anything I had ever seen! The long path to his site was lined with conch shells and cultivated shrubbery that looked wild and tropical. He had three tents, one for the master bedroom, one living room and a guest bedroom! Each pathway to each tent had a manicured pathway. The master bedroom had a king size bed with satin sheets. He didn’t actually have a toilet per se, but a bathroom to put our shower to shame. He had an incredible garden in which he grew string beans, tomatoes, spinach, succulents and many exotic flowers that eventually made it into the pathways. It looked like a jungle, but felt like a peaceful zen garden. There was a wicker couch in the living room. The kitchen couldn’t be more deluxe: a dining table with homemade candelabra, a tree that had every imaginable utensil dangling from it and a refrigerator! He had tapped into electricity and had lights, which had lampshades made from gourds/calbasa fruits that were hand painted with hibiscus flowers by his wife. He even had a radio and cable tv! Even though they were modern conveniences, which I have chosen to abandon, what he had created out of normally discarded items was amazing to behold!

Paul is such a crazy dude! He informed me when we first met, that he was a ‘nudist’ too. Did I mention he is about 60 years old? He lived on an island in Clearlake, California for 20 years and had to move to a warm climate for health reasons.  He told us that “just because you don’t want to live in what other people call so-called reality, doesn’t mean you have to live without the comforts of life.”  These words rang in my ears like a sign of some sort. He also told us that Dillinger was a thief (no surprise) crack addict(big surprise)! Paul said he moved all the way to this island to get away from that same problem of a drug-addict neighbor, only to find it next door again!

It was a treat to visit his campsite and gave me a needed break from my drama and an emotional lift. I said to Eddie that it should be in an issue of “Better Homes and Gardens” and he replied, “Better Campsites and Treehouses”.

We got a ride into town to get our supplies and got into a horrible fight. The worst fight we ever had and I decided our relationship was over! How could this be happening? Tears and pushing, hitting and chasing followed! It seemed something terrible was evoked and we were headed to total separation. It was over the concept of living off the land. We wanted different experiences and neither of us wanted to budge or compromise. I also think we adore each other and don’t want to have opposing desires. How tragic!

We hitched a ride back to Brewer’s Bay. (did I ever tell you this was a dirt road?) and we shoved close together by the jostling of the steep and narrow hills on the only road to this side of the island. When we returned, Eddie and I began tot madly kiss each other as it evolved into passionately aggressive sex. Post-coital, we began to talk about our near future. I wanted to return to Rogue’s Bay and he wanted to stay at Brewers. It was a gigantic dilemma and at our climax, the hurricane hit. The rain was unlike anything I had ever seen! I cried in the rain, while Eddie found shelter in a tent.

I felt so lost, not knowing whose voice to trust. I wanted to live off the land. I believe no one can own the land, it being Mother Earth and she is a living entity. If it was illegal to live in Rogue’s Bay, then was willing to practice the Thoreau’s philosophy of Civil Disobedience and accept the consequences?  Was willing to make a political point? Should I live out this journey alone? The journey of completely abandoning society and all that I believe hurts the earth? This is the single most difficult moral predicament I have ever faced. I cried and begged for Heaven’s mercy. Eddie came out of the tent to bring me in with him. We made the most tender love all afternoon. At this crazy moment, we decided to get married! The rain kept us in the tent and we cuddled close. It was extremely romantic and I decided tonight to give my exhausted heart and soul a rest before I decided which direction I would follow. Or should I say, lead?

Mosquitoes

Apparently I haven’t read every survival book, or at least properly. We should have covered the water reservoir because we apparently created the perfect storm of mosquitoes. They have appeared at an alarming rate. They devoured both Eddie and my feet the first few nights in Brewer’s Bay, but we eventually stopped scratching. They didn’t exist on Rogue’s bay until we unknowingly left our water out to create the perfect habitat for them.

This prohibits us from doing anything outside of the ocean or secure tent. They have become an enemy army. First they attack with their whiny little buzz in your ear. Then, I search for them flailing my arms everywhere. I usually end up hitting myself really hard without harming these evil creatures from hell.

Earlier, I tried a different approach that proved catastrophic. I decided to try mind control, using the mind body connection. So many people claim that these beasts do not bite them. It worked very well in the sense that I am now the most bitten person I have ever seen.

The day was spent running from them and the night is spent trying not to grab a fork and beginning scratching with this utensil. The worst part is: I don’t know how to end the agony. I do not want to compromise and use chemicals. Substances like OFF damage the oceans, rivers, forests and our bodies. I wont use it.

These chemicals are against all that I believe in and use of them supports my theories of how people became separated from nature. I understand its all for some comfort. We search to soothe the mosquito bite now and use some chemicals that damage the earth in their making and are carcinogenic to us. We sacrifice nature for our comfort. But if I compromise my philosophy now, then the line will continue to move until I don’t have anything that I believe in or stand for.

There must be some natural substance that can heal these bug bites. There is always a plant for everything.  I wish there was a medicine man on the top of the hill that had all the knowledge of his previous generations to impart all the plant remedies that they had come to know. I would like to compile a book of all these remedies. I wish I knew the lesson to learn from this. Who could have imagined that mosquitoes would be our fiercest enemies?