Mauna Kea New Year
January 1, 2010
Summit of Mauna Kea, Hawaii
I awake at 3am with the clear thought, “Get to the summit of Mauna Kea immediately” I turn to see that Carolyn had awakened as well and is fully alert and ready to rise. With only a few hours of sleep after celebrating my 40th birthday the day before, we recognize immediately what to do. We pack our cold-weather clothes, load the 4 wheel drive pickup and leave our warm, tropical Kona cabana for the 3 hour journey to the mountain.
The landscape between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea on the Saddle Road is otherworldly as we drive the narrow, winding and steeply climbing passage in the intense full moonlight of the night’s Blue Moon. Lava cones, rolling hills, military buildings, cattle ranches and barren, black frozen lava flows passed by as we speed toward the road leading to the mountain’s summit.
Stopping at the base of that steep, thin road leading up the mountain’s side, we watch the brilliant engorged moon setting on the western horizon. To the east, the sun is just peeking through the thin fog layer that blanketed the Pacific near Hilo. As the sun rises to reveal its full circumference we laugh and gasp in wonder as these two celestial bodies shone in nearly equal dimension and illumination. Perfectly balanced between the sun and the moon, masculine and feminine in age-old mythology, we celebrate our good fortune at being kissed by both at once! Quietly we offer our Ho’okupu and ask permission in a traditional way to visit this sacred place. While not entirely done according to traditional protocol, our hearts feel expanded and we speak of the energy surging through our bodies. We joyfully make our way forward.
Onward and upward we climb, slowly, past signs warning of the dangers of altitude and terrain. At 9000 feet the pavement ends and becomes a steep and slippery road of volcanic soil, deeply pockmarked and rippling like a washboard. Taking the 4 wheel drive was a good idea. With each rise in elevation and bend comes a new vista. I find myself catching my breath as the moon, still visible turns orange then blue then purple before disappearing at last behind the Pacific to the west. The sun, rising higher, shines its crisp white light over ever bleaker landscapes of volcanic pumice, boulders and older and older eroded landforms worn by millennia of wind, ice and rain.
Carefully passing us on their way down, we are greeted kindly by a caravan of New Year’s Day celebrants who in time-honored Hawaiian tradition had just held ceremony on the sacred summit less than an hour earlier. We exchange smiles, waves and chakas as we carefully pass.
The domes and buildings of the telescopes come into view before the summit. Seated snugly into the mountain and scattered across the high landscape these extraordinary tools help scientists from around the world provide insight into the origins of the universe. We drink in the view of these simple yet profound structures. Knowing that their presence here is controversial because of the sacred nature of the mountain, we honor the opportunity of the most advanced science and one of the most advanced spiritual places on the planet sharing the same place. It is the collaboration of science and spirituality that is helping us advance beyond who we have been as human beings on this planet.
Outside, the thermometer reads 43 degrees Fahrenheit, but my guess is with the wind blowing at perhaps 50-70 miles per hour it will feel even colder. Yikes! As I open the door of the truck the icy wind races in, whipping up a frenzy of anything light enough to fly. Adding a few extra layers of clothing including good windbreaker jackets, we carefully make our way to the trail leading to the true summit, amazingly, a hike of only a few hundred meters.
The wind blowing powerfully at our backs, we step gingerly onto the well-worn path toward the summit hill. The cinders crunch and slip a little under our feet and our eyes drink in the vast expanse of mountain dropping below us. Gently undulating, barren slopes, devoid of any vegetation in this harsh environment, extend for a few hundred meters to the east before plummeting down toward the Pacific only miles away under the cloud layer. The clouds themselves blanket the mountain, their undulating tops perhaps a mile lower than we are from our vantage point. The sun has emerged above the clouds, rising in the deep blue winter sky casting a bright and intense white light over the mountain top. We move our feet slowly, lungs burdened by the lack of oxygen at our 14,000 foot (4300 meter) altitude. The last 100 meters or so steeply rise toward the summit, the wind growing stronger as our bodies are challenged by the terrain, the wind and the height.
As I walk begin to sing, adding my voice to the noise. My body reverberates with the vibrations of my song and begins to tingle with the energy of my full being at once completely present in this moment.
Suddenly, our eyes and ears are directed at the stone ahu sitting directly atop the true summit. Those who came in ceremony before us today have either built anew or repaired a whistling wooden framework of short sticks, lashed closely together with strong twine with enough gaps between the sticks to create a channel through which the wind blows fiercely. Anchored into the meter-high pile of stones forming the ahu, this musical instrument makes a mighty noise, amplifying the wind’s already loud wail. Below it and hanging from it are woven leis, fruit, offerings wrapped in ti leaves and other gifts. Neither Carolyn nor I are trained in Hawaiian culture or ritual, so we are uncertain of the true meanings of these offerings. Perhaps they are for Poli`ahu, the goddess who resides here, or they have another intent. We leave only words of gratitude and prayer, and add those to the items on the ahu.
My body tingling, my mind crystal clear, I circumnavigate the ahu several times before sitting at its base facing east toward the sun. The stones block the force of the wind and Carolyn soon joins me, sitting closely next to me sharing some warmth. We are both glad to have a place of relative warmth and peace. We close our eyes and drop in.
I have seen Mauna Kea in my visioning while at other sacred spots on the planet. I see it connected energetically, with broad white highways of light and information, to every other sacred site on the planet. Only a few places on Earth are as well-connected. Here at this ahu, those highways converge and sitting here, I can feel the surge of energy below my root. I am aware that as long as I am clear and present, I can be active in the exchange of energy and information moving at the speed of light around the planet and both give and receive what is needed to support the positive transformation of myself and all who dwell in our biosphere. Great change is afoot!
