The Collective Aura Of Somber Hopelessness That Plagues Naalehu - No Effulgence Or Light In The People At The Post Office Or Grocery Store - An Existential Shock To My Vibrational State - A Dysfunctional Gravitational Field That Pulls All Higher Faculties Down To The Sexual Organs

Social Criticism - August 17, 2002

2002.8.17. Saturday, 7:05 a.m.

After having spent the summer in the socially dynamic environs of California, returning to Naalehu on the Big Island came as an emotional and existential shock.  

As I stood in line at Naalehu's post office and again at its grocery store I felt a drag on my being.  I was immersed in a collective aura that, energetically, weighed on my head, chest, and stomach.  I felt my higher faculties pulled down to my testicles.  It's hard to describe this feeling of frustrated life force; but emotionally and psychologically, it was most definitely a weight.  In this atmosphere -- under this weight -- the urge to be creative is supplanted by a variety of less desirable behaviors: the urge to orgasm (or finding some other cheap, quick source of pleasure), the desire to "tune-out" via drug use, wife beating, and so forth.  In sum, in such an environment all creativity stalls.

There was nearly no effulgence or light in these people; they exhibited low vibrations and darkened demeanors.  Were these a happy, intellectually curious, self-actualizing people, light would emanate from their faces; there would be a glow, a sense of purpose, an existential momentum radiating from them.  But the majority of the people I encountered shined not at all; they had a sullen and defeated quality. As one past summer school colleague of mine commented, Naalehu gives "third world" a bad name, because at least the poor in these other countries retain a sense of hope.

So there's karmic drag in this backwater town.  If Naalehu could be likened to a body of water, then that water would be choked with mud and refuse and toxic run-off; and I’d be up to my neck as I waded through it’s rottenness, with plastic bags and other trash clinging to my limbs.

I wish there was more spontaneous laughter in this somber, dysfunctional town.  But few people escape being scarred from its epidemic of alcoholism, familial violence, and hopelessness.  Fifteen years ago there was more pride here; but the corporations transferred all the agricultural work that used to be done here to developing nations where few environmental or social safeguards exist -- where collective activism for better work conditions can be crushed, and where huge profits can be made and funneled back to wealthy American stock holders.  My town is the way it is because of the soulless values driving corporate America.

 

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