Homeless In Hawaii 2/2

   My first night of sleeping on the beach was terrible for two reasons:

Reason #1: I was frigid cold. The wind was blowing the air of the cool water directly onto me. My hammock provided little protection. During the day, with the warmth of the Sun, it was perfect. At night it was a different story. In order to cope I had to layer myself with every single clothing item that I had. This meant I had on approximately 10 shirts, a few pairs of pants, and an exuberant amount of socks. Despite my layers, I remained cold to the bone. I was ill equipped. 

Reason #2: In the small moments where I did manage to fall into a short slumber, I was quickly awakened with surges of adrenaline to fight an imagined intruder. I must have had the same nightmare over and over again. Awakening and reawakening to fight and defend myself from someone who wasn't there. My subconscious was in a state of paranoia, constantly playing tricks on me.

    At that moment, my visions of a Hawaiian paradise were looking grim. I awoke shivering with fear pumping through my body. Questions like, "What had I gotten myself into? What am I doing? Fuck, I'm an idiot" - and many more self critiquing thoughts plagued my mind. Like a zombie searching for life, I half walked half stumbled to the public beach shower that I discovered the day before. I stripped down to my underwear and began to wash the previous nights fear, lack of sleep, and doubt down the drain. Baptized by funky smelling water and the gleaming Hawaiian Sun, I could think clearly again. After one cold shower and some sunlight, I was back to my ignorant optimistic self. Crazy how the simplest of things can transform our state of mind. Anyways.

    I resumed my venture of searching for a job. Instead of trying to explain my life situation to potential employers (the fact that I was soul searching and living on the beach), I instead invented a story that I was living with an estranged aunt whom I'd just reconnected with. I chose a random address off Google to use as my "Home" address. The next few days passed in a similar manner. I'd wake up after a horrible night of sleep and badgering nightmares, go take my beach front shower, then proceed to plot around searching for a job. The more interactions I had with others, the more I realized that I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't explain why I had chosen to be homeless. I just had this feeling that I needed to "suffer" ("Suffer" is in quotes because true suffering, most of the time, isn't a choice). I grew up in a middle class, white, suburban home with a safe family environment. I'd had a privileged childhood. Now, I wanted to see what I was made of. I needed to poke and prod myself with discomfort in order to see the "who" that lies within me. This is a common theme that will play out time and time again in my life. Sometimes I just do things in order to see if I'll come out on the other end. To see who I'll be at the other end and what I learned in the process. When unchecked this can be a bit self destructive, but in general I find it to be useful in the quest for self-knowledge.

    Another day came and went. I still hadn't stumbled into Jack Johnson. Did he even still live on the island? If so, which one? Although my Hawaiian dream was now a reality, in no way was I allowing myself to enjoy it. I was literally steps away from the ocean but I wasn't jumping in. I was surrounded by opportunities to learn how to surf and all the cool people that come along with that, but I wasn't trying to strike up conversations. I was so distraught and anxious that I hadn't even bothered to eat for the few days that I'd been there. Just some bites of chocolate. Fear and anxiety were suppressing any appetite that I had.

    It turns out, it doesn't matter how far you travel, or what type of paradise you find yourself in - you will always have to bring yourself along. A paradise can become Hell and Hell can become...at least manageable. My circumstances were forcing me to confront myself in ways that I hadn't before. Perspective is key and the key to perspective is experimentation. Another message from the road. After some days of stewing in my own anxiety, with litte food and sleep, I had a job interview that I'd set up from one of my first days of job hunting. Little did I know that this seemingly insignificant encounter would change the projection of my life.

    I walked into the interview ready to jump through all the typical hoops that are deployed from interviewer to interviewee. Sleep deprived and wearing a few days of coated dirt, I wasn't ready for what happened next. Within moments of my formal introduction to Doug, my potential boss, I was bombarded with questions like:

"Have you done drugs? Which ones? Can you tell me about any profound experiences you've had on mushrooms? What are you offering to society? What do you think people will remember about you when you die? Do you have a girlfriend? Are you loyal to her? What are your dreams? Biggest fears? What is holding you back from achieving your destiny? What's the very first thing you do in the morning? What music do you listen to?

    Bang, shots fired. Boom, bombs dropped. I was left dumbfounded and speechless. I wasn't prepared for any of this. I sat down, took a drink of water, and jumped into the onslaught of questions. If this guy wanted to go deep, I was going to meet him there. It was moments and conversations like this that I was in search of, though I didn't know it at the time. Our conversation flowed between philosophical inquiries, religions around the world, spiritual practices, books, movies, love, traveling, and all the offshoots of conversation that serendipitously happened along the way. The most memorable part of our conversation was when Doug showed me a live performance of "The Rolling Stones" on Youtube. Specifically their song "Sympathy for the Devil". When we watched the video, the eyes of Doug glazed over as if he were entering into a trance. We both watched in silence. I was confused. Meanwhile Doug was in a state of awe, almost as if he were about to drool. After the video ended he explained that this performance of "The Rolling Stones" is what happens when people reach their potential. This is what happens when someone (or a band) tries to be their very best at something. Only then can such feats of beauty be expressed and brought forth into the world. Cliche, simple, but also very powerful. The look on Dougs face showed that he meant what he was saying whole heartedly. It showed that he had powerful personal experiences with this way of seeing things, with this gem of Truth. Coincidentally, at the time I was reading a book called "The Four Agreements" which just so happens to talk about the powerful idea of "trying your best"...10/10 recommend this book)

    After watching this live performance from decades ago, without pause, Doug looked me in the eyes and said, " What will you be the best at? If you want to ever do or create something that is anywhere near as beautiful as what we just watched, you have to start now. You can't waste your time wandering around living on beaches to avoid paying rent". (I had disclosed the fact that I was homeless). I uncomfortably averted his gaze and looked at the ground, having no answer for him. He prodded me further, "Are you eating?". Again, I remained silent. He wasn't being condescending or harsh, just matter of fact. Straight to the point. He had just met me and it seemed that he'd already correctly psychoanalyzed everything about me. The truth had a sting to it. I didn't know what I was doing, only that I was searching for something. Maybe this interview was that "something". Our one time meeting lasted 4 hours in the back of the store that I was applying to work at. In the end Doug offered me the job. It was mine if I wanted it. However, in the midst of our hours of talking, I had already began to realize something. I stood up, looked him in the eye and said, "No thanks, but thanks for whatever just happened." He smiled. I smiled. I walked out of the shop. I never saw Doug again.

    My talk with Doug left me shook. In the midst of my confusion, certain realizations were surfacing. I then realized that this was the point of my journey to Hawaii. I simply needed to do something off the wall and insane to shake things up. Through the shaking and chaos I could then usurp glimmers of understanding about what was going to be the next step for me. I came to understand that my overall vision, to see and travel the world - was still intact. However, I didn't want to merely take from the places around me. I wanted to be able to offer something in return. In a sense, I wanted to be able to exchange pieces of myself for the eclectic tastes of the world around me. I needed a job that I could do anywhere using just my two hands. I didn't want to rely on anyone but myself. I needed to be self sufficient and free to come and go as I pleased. 

    I returned to my makeshift home deep in thought. Surprisingly, I was able fall into a deep sleep for the first time since being on the island. Not because I knew any answers, but because I felt a shift happening within me. I was beginning to understand the puzzle that I was working on and the necessary pieces that I'd need to acquire in order for my visions of traveling the world to come true. The path that I saw before me was going to be a wild ride. It was going to take all of me. If I wanted to manifest my wanderlustfic (I made this word up) dreams, I had some work to do. What the work was, you will soon come to find out.

- Corey

***In the end I came to find out that Doug was an ex-professional surfer who has contributed to the booming of the surf and lifestyle culture throughout the years. Now he owns a surf shop and makes custom boards. Apparently on the side he sets wandering, totally disconnected pipe dreamers like myself back on track. I don't know if he knew what he was doing, but our meeting changed me.