Homeless In Hawaii 1/2
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| Giant bags of "Cheerios" seemed very important in case of a food emergency... |
During my last few months in Alaska I decided that my next adventure location would be in Hawaii. I still remember why. At the time I was constantly listening to music from the "Kokua Festival", a festival that happened every few years in Hawaii. On the album that I was listening to, Jack Johnson played some magical songs. Songs that constantly lifted my spirits. Songs that made me think, "Damn, I wanna meet this guy." I'd heard rumors from a friend of a friend that he helped organize beach clean up events on one of the islands. In my overtly optimistic ignorant head, I thought I'd infiltrate one of these clean up crews and stumble upon a "chance" meeting with Jack Johnson himself. I had no idea what I intended to do if I met him, but that didn't matter to me. Even to just say "Hello" would have been legendary. I know, I know, this was a completely ridiculous notion. However, in my head, I didn't need a justifiable reason to embark on an adventure. I just needed an excuse. We don't need to justify our thirst for the unknown. If you've got the travel bug, if you've got that itch, if you've got that idea that is always finding its way back to you, pestering you - that's the universe tugging at your sleeve. There's only one way to deal with the powerful tugs of the universe. You must reject all things sensical and listen to the messages. If rejecting all things sensical means to honor the feelings that are stirring within you, then that's what must be done. Or you can continue on in your "safe" way, slowly trying to numb the messages with complacency and its many forms. In the end though, the universe always gets our attention. We are always trying to justify our thirst for adventure when in reality the very fact that we are existing is justification enough to jump into the unknown. Life is fragile and most of the time shorter than we'd imagine. We've got no time to waste.
After landing at the airport in Hawaii, I hopped into a taxi and told the driver, "Take me to the nearest beach." He responded with a weary glance, looked me up and down, and laughed to himself - not trying to hide his skepticism. I knew what he was thinking. That I was just another runaway dreamer who wanted to find themselves in Hawaii. Maybe he was right, but I didn't care. My adventure was here. I was writing my story. My plan was to find a beach and to make a temporary home out of a hidden nook amongst the trees that lined the beach. I had minimal clothes, a portable hammock, a first aid kit, two extra extra large bags of "Cheerios", some candy for quick sugar rushes in times of darkness and despair, a tarp that I set up to protect myself from rain, some pre printed resumes, and 100$ to my name. After being dropped off and bidding adieu to the skeptical taxi driver, I began looking for my new home. I didn't know exactly where I was going, only that when I found the place - I'd know. I wandered the outskirts of North Shore beach listening to "Beach in Hawaii" by Ziggy Marley. Eventually I found my cranny. It was perfect. In reality it was only about a twenty minute walk from civilization, but it was twenty minutes of intense forest fighting. I figured that the more difficult it was to get to my temporary home - the better. Less visitors, less worries. Also, it was within walking distance of a public beach shower and bathrooms which I thought was great. In reality it didn't matter. Who needs a shower and bathroom when you have the ocean?
The moment came when I had my camp set up. Hammock hung, tarp tied down, and my belongings elaborately packaged in multiple layers of garbage bags. This was my way of protecting my stuff from the rain, and from thieves. I figured if anyone found my stuff when I was away, it would look like a bag of garbage that was haphazardly thrown into the forest, and it worked.
Finally, after all my dreaming, I was within my own adventure. My story had officially begun. There I was. Lying in a hammock, homeless in Hawaii, with 100$ in my wallet. Having only led with my heart up until this point, my mind finally caught up to the party. It eerily whispered, "What now?" A sense of fear began to course its way through my body like the nicotine from a drag of a cigarette. What am I doing? Without even 10 minutes of resting, I was on high alert. My body went into fight or flight mode. The daunting realization of my circumstances hit me, and they hit me hard. If I wanted my Hawaiian dreams to remain intact, if I wanted my chance of meeting Jack Johnson to happen, I had to first take care of myself and find work. I grabbed my folder of already printed resumes, hid my bag under some leaves, and abruptly left my camp. I was determined to find a job. After all, the hard part (making the decision to be homeless in Hawaii) was already done. In comparison, finding a job would be easy. Off I went. Determined, hopeful, and as always - desperate in some degree.
I've always loved the pursuit of finding jobs. The silly cultural games we play as interviewee and interviewer. Having to jump through all the hoops that come with an interview. Ever since I can remember, I've loved the "game" of it all. I like to try different conversation styles, watching the interviewer react as I use new material. I've learned that having an enjoyable conversation with somebody is an extremely potent tool, especially when applying for jobs. Looking back, it was my way of giving a performance, which would make much more sense to me later on.
Back to the story. In the situation I was in, with minimal money and a heightened anxiety level, I did my classic straight to the point technique. I walk into a store, ask to speak to the manager, and then with eye to eye contact (not too much), say something like: "Hello, I'm Corey Leighton, with a big ole smile (but not too big)... I would like to work here (confident but not arrogant)...Are you hiring (casual but caring)? If so, I'd like to schedule a meeting where we can discuss this possibility (hoping my desperation isn't seeping through)...." Something like that. Straight and to the point. After firing this out to every store that I saw, I was bound to get some bites. Sure enough - I did. After my first round of resume slingin' I managed to secure an interview for a retail position at a surf shop the following day. In my eyes, that first interview represented hope.
I tucked away the rest of my printed resumes and finally allowed myself the simple pleasure of taking in the new place I was in. I began to wander and let serendipity take me where she saw fit. I marveled at the surfers doing their thing, their craft, their art. I watched the ebb and flow of the locals in the midst of their daily routines, wondering if I too will one day have my own rhythm in this very orchestra. As I wandered without any sense of direction, I began to become lost in my thoughts. Just months ago I had been living in a rustic cabin in an Alaskan valley, dreaming of the very moment I had found myself in now. This would be the first of many tremendously powerful realizations that I'd have with myself. To know that you are where you once dreamed of being is insanely empowering. I'd have to hold onto this feeling time and time again. Moments of joy and inspiration can be bottled up and used as fuel during hard times. Acknowledging how far we've come can help us see in times of darkness and fear.
As the evening sun began to drift downwards, I scurried back to my camp making sure not to get caught in the evenings darkness. Otherwise I'd never find my hidden nook. It was difficult to settle in. My nerves were still on high alert and I felt like my adrenal glands were constantly firing. Not being able to sleep, I walked along the beach watching the sky and listening to the rhythmic swish swash of the ocean. I was both scared and excited. Both optimistic and doubtful. Both crazy and calm. I was feeling a duality of conflicting emotions that I hadn't quite experienced before and I was happy about that. After all, this is part of my reasoning for wanting to have experiences such as this. To feel new sensations. To see new perspectives. To be in a circumstance that I'd never imagined myself being. This was the wild ride of life. I was going to try my best to hold on.
Day 1 of being homeless in Hawaii was a rollercoaster. Constant fluctuations between fear and ecstasy. Here is my journal entry from that day all those years ago.
"After being dropped off I immediately went job hunting. It seems everyone was hiring, but not to anyone who doesn't have a proof of address (me). I'm in the dilemma of having to lie about where I'm living if I want a job. I feel lousy. On the plus side, I was approached by a fellow traveler who could tell I was struggling. He gave me his number and offered to help me out. It was a beautiful act of kindness. After job hunting I walked until I found a beach that would take kindly to me. I found one on Waialua Bay. I'm in a discreet location about 40ish yards from the beach. There is a water fountain nearby. After setting up my hammock and tarp, I walked along the beach. I felt lonely, scared, and in over my head. Then I looked up. The sight of the expansive sky overlooking the ocean comforted me. I knew everything was going to be ok and that I can do this. This concludes day #1."
- Corey
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| ...somewhere in Hawaii... |
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