Goddess Pele, Gaia, Mother Earth: spiritual encounters in Hawaii
Puna district, Big Island of Hawaii
A book excerpt from the Iconoclast Press online library.
From Kauai my soror- my twin soul- and I decided to fly to the Big Island of Hawaii. We awoke early, the morning of our flight, and decided to head straight to the airport to see if we could get on an earlier flight than the one for which we were scheduled. No doubt this eagerness was being inspired in us, because we did make an earlier flight, and only because of this did we meet, on the plane to the Big Island, a man who befriended us, and who, after my soror had left some weeks later, gave me a small hut in which to live, located near his house, on some land he was looking after in the Puna district. And then, due to my contact with this fellow, all the rest which was to follow played itself out.
What happened is that this fellow, Brendan, was in charge of a number of properties owned by a multimillionaire who was off island, for reasons I shall not go into here. One of the properties was a massive, pristine piece of paradise, containing a large banana patch, various fields, mango trees, and, most importantly, an extinct, forested volcano, inside which there was a magical little lake.
While my soror was still on the Big Island, Brendan took her and I to this unique property for a swim, at which point she instantly recognized the lake as one she had seen in a dream, days earlier, and was told in the dream that I was somehow connected to the lake, but she had not known, until we arrived for the swim, that the lake actually existed. This was a powerful portent, for after my soror had left Hawaii, a few weeks later, and I was staying in the hut which Brendan had offered me, near his house, I began to feel claustrophobic because Brendan was exhibiting a not-so honest approach to our friendship. And so I was thinking of leaving and finding other accommodations. But then one night I had a dream in which I saw the lake in a vision, and, among other things, knew that I was to stay where I was until things played themselves out.
Well, not two weeks later the man who was then caretaking the volcano and lake had to fly to Oahu for a couple of months, and, lo and behold, I became the caretaker of that magical piece of the Mother.
I say this with absolute candor, for though the entire earth is a part of Her body, there are some places in which She is so alive, so conscious, and so available, that to be in those places for any period of time, is to connect with Her so intimately that you feel as if youíre sucking on her very teat.
I assume it was necessary that such a connection take place between myself and the Mother, which is why my soror and I had boarded the plane early from Kauai, which is why we met Brendan, which is why I stayed with him, and was told to stay, and not move, which is how I finally ended up living on, and loving the earth in a way that I could never have imagined.
To bond with the Mother in one of her hotspots is to hit upon an erogenous zone of the world, and to send sparks flying into yourself, and out into the cosmos; it is to send your connection with the Father down into the womb of the Mother, and to become the living act of coitus between them; it is to give yourself to the earth, as much as to the heavens, and in doing so to bring that Christ within you down from the cross, and back into the womb of Bethlehem.
I expect this type of connection is happening in many places around the world, though I doubt it is happening in any great manner any place where the earth is covered in cement and defiled instead of being deified. For, whereas the Father can be reached anywhere, at anytime, by anyone willing and earnest enough, the connection with the Mother is a more specific and demanding event; for, whereas the Father can be reached through the spirit, the Mother must be connected in the flesh. And so it is only in the unspoiled areas of the earth where She can be most easily embraced, interacted with, and adored. One such place is the Big Island of Hawaii, and, more specifically, the Puna district.
Puna is a vast area of natural beauty which is populated by an abundance of hippies, new-agers, drifters, back-to-landers, dope growers, mystics, maniacs, musicians, artisans, dropouts, ex-pats, saints, and infidels. It is Babylon. Though it is not the Babylon separated from the Godhead, but the new Babylon, re-united to the spirit and yet still anchored to the earth. Terra firma, spiritus mundi.
If the Big Island of Hawaii is the epicenter of the Mother Earth, with Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa soaring skyward as Her two bodacious fourteen-thousand-foot breasts, and the lava flow from Kilauea as Her ever-purging menses, then Puna is Her womb. And I am not being facetious.
Indeed She is as alive and accessible in the Puna district of the Big Island of Hawaii, as any other place on Her entire earth body. In fact, I find it no strange coincidence that on Motherís Day of 2002, the largest volcano in the world, Mauna Loa, began to swell, and at the same time Kilauea stepped up its lava output, as if to announce Her true being to the world.
It is in Puna where the orgasm of spirit and soul occurs, in Puna where the Fatherís invisible member enters the warm womb of the visible earth, in Puna where the Mother cums, grows heavy with child, gives birth, and then suckles her children. Puna is the matriarchal stronghold. It is where the Hawaiian Goddess Pele calls the shots.
There are tales of large corporations attempting to create a foothold in the area, with the intention of building a resort and living off the fat of the land, as it were. But only tales remain. Each attempt at corporate or cosmopolitan insurrection has met with disaster, economic ruin, or a strategically placed magma flow, because this is one of the last places on the earth- which is Her body- where the Mother will not be fucked unwillingly.
Pele is known for Her fire, Her anger, and Her love, for She is wild and unbridleable. The offerings most often presented to Her by Hawaiians seeking Her favor are gin and cigarettes, for She is dark and reckless, always ready for a party, and always ready for a fight. Love and fire. To whom She loves She gives the bounty of the earth, to whom She hates She destroys.
There is a well known story told in Puna, of an old woman, said to have been a temporary manifestation of Pele, who wandered around the Kapoho area one day, in the 1960ís, going from house to house and asking at each door for some food and shelter, and being turned away by all until finally being taken in by the lighthouse keeper. Rumor has it that she left his place a few hours later, peacefully, and gratefully, and the next day a lava flow wiped out the entire village- except for the lighthouse keeperís home. To this day you can see where the flow parted to go around his house, and then rejoined so as to leave none of Her compassionless children unpunished. Love and fire. She takes care of some, and wreaks havoc on others. And who can blame Her.
My own mother often said that if ever there was threat of harm to one of her children, she would turn into an unstoppable grizzly in order to rescue us, and I believe her. I believe that her love was so strong, that it could turn, when necessary, into a rage that no human could match. I believe this with all my soul, and as I write this I feel my body filling with shivers, and my eyes growing cloudy with tears, as if I can finally understand the love of a mother for her children.
And now I take this understanding of a motherís love, given to me by my physical mother, and I wish the same for Gaia, Mother Earth, whose children are in danger, just as She is in danger herself. For the earth is now all but a dumping ground onto which we cast our limitless garbage, and I, for one, will be glad on the day She declares ďNo more!Ē
No more. Enough is enough. I look forward to the day when the Motherís wrath, guided by the Fatherís vision, reclaims all that has been stolen from Her. And I believe this is possible, for She is not unaware. In fact, it is well understood on the Big Island that Pele will not let lava be taken off of the island without severe consequences. And there are many tales of tourists scoffing brashly at such local warnings and deciding to fly home with a little chunk of the Mother, and then of these unbelieving heathens mailing the lava back to the island, a few months later, in an attempt to appease the force now ruining their lives.
Oh, She is a dark, ferocious, and unforgiving matriarch at times, this devouring female, Kali, Black Madonna, Green Tara, or Pele, call her what you will. She is your Mother, and She is vicious.
(excerpted from Roots and Wings: adventures of a spirit on earth, by Jack Haas)
Books by Jack Haas. Autobiography, Memoir, Spirituality, Mysticism, Comparative Religion, Poetry, Art, Photography.