Aloha, and Mahalo for stopping by. This part of the story takes place over the course of three weeks, in which time I've landed on Maui, achieved some basis of bearing, and begun to soak in the marinade of the chapter; my first WWOOFing experience. Proceeding text may eschew continuity for the sake of adventure - but events are truer than my heart's path to truth, that is to say, redundantly true. Maui has captured my heart, invigorated my mind, set fire to my passions, and allowed me the disconnect from distraction I'd needed as the path to truth unfolds. Each day is a completely new adventure, and there is never a dull moment as I carve my beliefs and character. Moments are decisions.
To begin with, I packed too much. I always do that out of a personality trait to be prepared for all situations (Sun Tzu has noted "when without resources, depend on resourcefulness....") I even brought a hand ax to Maui... I need to get better with that. Packing light is essential to the the vagabond - which I have taken to quite well, I must say. Kerouac would be proud; though my true Gemini showing itself; one part being here now, the other asking if we're there yet and if we'll need a hand ax when we get there.It was a Tuesday when I arrived. I wasn't tired really, nor had the in-flight Jack altered my perception beyond removing the edge of throttled tin can claustrophobia. I was ready, poised and salivating. Put me in the game coach, I need to get my hands on the ball. Marta Greenleaf was at the curb shortly after I got my gear; a rucksack, my Chrome rolltop daybag, my bike in box, and a duffle. In retrospect, too much "stuff," not enough clothes. More on that later, as I digress... Conversational casualties ensued as we drove to Whole Foods for a delivery and some supplies. As we approached the 2 acre family farm (up a very well-to-do "Neighborhood Watch" street), Marta pointed out my new living quarters from the road. It felt somehow comfortable in the sense of a long lost memory returned. The other wwoofers, both named Katie, were done with chores and off the farm, so I spent the rest of the day setting myself up. I'm sorry to report I haven't been able to hang my hammock. Sadly, there is just no viable place for it on the farm... plus, how am I supposed to bring a lady back to the hammock? So I broke down and bought a $30 tent from WalMart.
I'd be sleeping in the fabric fortress, under a kukui nut tree, on a farm overlooking lavender fields. The ocean and sunset would set the background.
That night, we had a group dinner. The two Katies, a visiting friend Gary, Marta, and myself. Bill Greenleaf was on the mainland. We all worked so harmoniously together with ingredients plucked from the backyard. It felt close and intimate, though I'd only just arrived, and we all shared prep, cook, and eventual cleaning duties. A patio setting and the brilliant stars above flavored the meal with imagination. As smoke passed around and we'd all sated our organic tastes, I couldn't think of anything more than, "Wow, this is incredible. I must be dreaming."
Oddly enough I have dreamed less since I've been here, or so I thought initially. I'd always kind of felt gypped that my dreams weren't so surreal, memorable, or lucid. Friends have told me tales of infinity, returning to dream worlds, and interaction within their dreams, but mine were typically bland-ish. Until now. My waking life is so vivid, synced, and interactive that it seems like I'm in a lucid waking dream currently. With humbleness, I'm living a dream, but it didn't come from thin air. Be true, be positive, follow your heart, and good things will happen.Who's to say what is real and what is a dream, anyway? I can't help but to follow signs of opportunity and my path to Love. I'm tapped in, take my hand and we can share The connection.
Farm duties are from 8am until noon, M-F, except for Thursday when Marta and I practice yoga, then we'll start at 9am. Daily chores include taking care of the chickens (feeding, watering, and gathering eggs - my chore specifically), pruning trees, weeding, shoveling manure, composting, laying irrigation, and occasionally in the evening laying seedlings, as the coolness helps a good start. There are somewhere around 50 varieties of fruit, vegetable, bean/grain, and herb combined.
We have an outdoor shower where, I've discovered, a rainbow visits me each journey I take, sometimes double! I haven't showered indoors since I've been here. Creative mosaic stones pave the way to cleanliness, and a steam room adjacent. I'm probably cleaner here than I was back home, (despite the dirt, horseshit, and compost) and have taken to wearing nothing but a salt rub for deodorant. Body pheromones are so real, I love it and so should you. Down with western ideals of cleanliness! Its a facade to sell you chemicals and proliferate social control. You have the power to free your mind.Where was I? Ah yes, farm duties.
Each Friday is Harvest Day, so we search for, pick, and prepare all the goodies for CSA boxes. That's a chill day, and for the most part, in the shade. I have acquired an authentic "farmer's tan," but by the process of naked sunbathing, I'm working on evening it out.
Beyond my obligations of 20 hours work/trade on the farm, I have a plethora of time to do as I please, and while I've only been here 3 weeks, I have seen quite a bit of the island. Each city on Maui has its own vibe and culture. Paia Town is my local hippie beach town (fitting, I know) with new age boutiques, restaurants and cafes, 70s California transplants and their groms, brahs in trucks, a yoga studio, the homeless beach kats, a surf and bike shop, and a very cool bead shop. An interesting social stratus that I feel annica, or transient, through.
Some days I'll don Thoreauian qualities, sitting within the sand, pensive and solitary, staring out unto the vast oceanic horizon, perhaps reading a book or writing with a little snack bindle. One weekend, I rented a white Econo van and drove around sleeping where I adventured. Iao Valley, Kihei, Lahaina, wherever... This weekend I rented an AWD Subaru Impreza and drove northwest, cutting through canyons, searching for the perfect picnic spot. No, not this bluff, a little further. Ya, sunset will be perfect here. 
I pulled the e-brake with a cool grin, and drifted around a pebbly unpaved cliff road with a new friend, Kaitra. Then the next day back to hitch hiking, chillin on the beach with the tanned and dready kats, to chief the pakololo, 
seek out the next hidden waterfall, and ride the wind. Last night I ordered a latte after Woody Harrelson, then minutes later at a local pub, unknowingly asked Owen Wilson what movie he'd just seen as I sipped my Maui brewed Bikini Blond and he a fine glass of red wine... classy. So the social stratus has an interesting flow to it. I feel cleaner and more polished than the beach bums, but I'm not quite one of the normal societal types. And I like it. Even amongst the wwoofing community, I feel bohemian. I'm carving Atom.The weekend prior, three wwoofers and I took a weekend trip out to Hana and O'heo Gorge. Katie, who just left Greenleaf Farm to go onward in travels; Jeremy, a 22 year old who reminds me incredibly of Mr. Dana; and Tristan, an inquisitive Berkeley vagabond type. The views were spectacular, the banana bread was fresh, and the experience was incredible. I have now been around the entire island. We explored caverns via an underwater passage, climbed rock lava, and had lunch on the black sand beach.
more pics on Picasa
How different my Monday through Friday routine is now... yet still a routine. For now, I'm happy learning the basics, and being in the zen of the moment on this small farm, but there will come a time when I'll branch to other opportunities. Portland, Seattle, Santa Fe/Taos, Austin, Mississippi, India, Austrailia, New Zealand, and Northern California are all completely possible, yet when the time comes to pull the trigger, I'll know which gun to aim. Until then, I'm riding the wind with Mercurian strength.
And the story continues. Each day brings new opportunities and experiences. Who knows where or when I'll land. Fears wash away as I gaze into infinity.
