House of the Sun, that's what Haleakala means. Haleakala National Park is the highest point on Maui (over 10,000 feet). An astounding moonscape of sandy cones inside a volcanic crater. People say the place has the power to excellarate human development and healing. In line with that, scientists have found unexpected bursts of energy with no appearent cause or rhythm. This is the place I found myself last weekend, joining the Friends of Haleakala hiking to the most remote cabin to do upkeep.
Spending extended time in wilderness areas has always been restorative, a time to 'reset'. There's a deep sense of rest in a natural system that will operate without your inputs. Not like your house that needs repairs, relationships that take investment or relentless to-do lists. Nature just is, with or without you, and that's extremely comforting. Without going outside and getting this sensation regularly, many of us would go crazy. We need this sense of release and order and energy beyond ourselves.
Spending extended time in wilderness areas has always been restorative, a time to 'reset'. There's a deep sense of rest in a natural system that will operate without your inputs. Not like your house that needs repairs, relationships that take investment or relentless to-do lists. Nature just is, with or without you, and that's extremely comforting. Without going outside and getting this sensation regularly, many of us would go crazy. We need this sense of release and order and energy beyond ourselves.
Our Haleakala guide showed us remnants of Koa forests, the once abundant trees that circled all the islands and supplied Hawaiians with canoes, weapons and tools. We saw the native flora -- a'ali'i, kaloa, ohia lehua, and native birds -- i'iwi, amakihi, and apapane. It was exhilarating to see these endangered plants and animal, only familiar to me from pictures, living in the wild and going about their daily routines. Their once-natural environment is now carefully managed to prevent their extinction. These delicate species are still alive due to extensive efforts to prevent invasive species (namely feral goats and pigs) from spreading into the National Park. The energy and joy I experienced being in the forest was sharp because of its fragility. It was also tempered by a sense of exhaustion - how long can humans maintain conditions for this ecosystem to survive? How much energy will we need to exert to keep this natural place alive?
The questions disturbed me because they indicated a reverse in energy flow. What if there wasn't any natural places I could go to restore? What if one day I have to invest energy rather than receive it from nature? Normally these questions turn to costs of ecosystem services, which provide us air, drinking water, pollination of crops and raw materials. With the current estimate at $33 trillion annually it deserves attention.
But hiking the 10 miles out the Kaupo Gap toward the coast to the tune of the bright yellow amakiki bird, the costs of maintaining this ecosystem wasn't what concerned me. It was the psychological impact of losing my stablilziing energy source. It won't work if every time I go outside I have to consider what needs to be fixed up, planted, tapped, and feed before I can restore and rest. It also seems that we don't have the information or intelligence to maintain many ecosystem services at a large scale for any length of time. Not only would it be exhausting, it would be futile.
So what's to be done?
Many things but perhaps most personally we can recognize the source of the energy we are drawing on. Bird calls and beautiful trees are subtle sources compared to pulsing urban centers. With constant ideas and excitement offered by other humans and our creations, it can take serious patience to tune in to nature's energy. Of course it all comes from the same source, with humans being part of nature, but we tend to go for the quickest and easiest sources. With highly cerebral and entertaining sources we can become dull to the the energy from natural places. But this in-tuneness can be restored amazingly quickly by stopping to get fresh air, walking outside, or sitting next to a tree.
The picture at the top was taken just after dusk looking down the valley to our lit cabin in the corner. After a tiring day of hiking and tough questions I fall asleep early. The next morning I woke up to grey light. I went outside and watched the same ritual that repeats itself everyday. As the light gets stronger I relax. This is the ultimate energy source. Sitting here in the House of the Sun the energy comes in abundance. I'm restored again and more thankful than usual.