Mystic Island Gathering, Maui, Hawaii

The big bright sun of the Maui coast blazed down on Camp Olowalu as I glide into the Mystic Island Festival. The crowd there has been busy setting up a geodesic dome, preparing food, and setting up the stage. During those first few hours of the festival on Thursday afternoon, I was settling by campsite with no more emotions than the other wanderers who were aimless and uninvolved in setting up the festival.  It wasnt quite time.
I moved on until I found a spot on the beach.  Soon enough people would be singing, and several hundred people uniting to experience the magical activation of the festival. I stop and my head begins to swivel. My internal scanner had found a whale breaching, bristling with water and wrapped in a shimmering aura. It is wonderful to be alive and watching the whales. Alive and amused in the fresh air, between the campsites and the coast of Maui,  with tiger sharks and humpback whales under a sea so blue you could almost call it phosphorescent, and under a sky so blue you could almost call it dark.  
(But way, way up, where the crowd could not see, the sky was darker still; violet-dark, with stars showing.  And in that darkness, a silver green star seed of sorts fell down at lightning speed. ) Just three seconds later, the silver-green star bud blossomed above the festival into a bright magenta flower. The campsites grew brighter and brighter still, with the brightness of the moon. The dome winked reflecting the cooling rays of the moon-flower.  
The crowd around me bloomed too. Their clothes puffed into petals of tropical fruit flowers. Their heads of hair became whorls of petals.  The purple flower grew, stem and blossom.   I slowly scanned a full circle. They all stand on the shore in the tropical shore watching the sun set and hearing birds and insects cry and buzz from the flowering jungle all around.  The silence of the festival was at last broken by an opening ceremony and a few musical acts including the Dharma Bums. The Conjugal Visitors, a bluegrass jug band, with lead singer Gopal surprising everyone with translucent and spiritual lyrics embedded in a thick twang. That night, Jagadisa Prabhu, of Dust of Vraj, held a kirtan revoution at night on the beach. Four or five of us chanted kirtan and went until 2 or 3am, and got to be quite bliss enducing. 
Headliners of the event Jaya Lakshmi and Ananda ji did a Kundalini yoga workshop in the dome in the morning.  During the festival they also did a kirtronica set, a kirtan set, and blissed everyone out with other Altar of Love Immersion workshops.  Afterwards, I stare out over the ocean, sipping on herbal Shakti Chai, and munching on raw blueberry maca cacao balls. As the bright blue ocean verges on its khaki beaches, the water takes on the shocking iridescent hue of a swimming pool. Farther south, Lanai and Molokai Islands are enjoying humpback whale visitations, and covered with foliage over vast 3000ft cliff faces. 
Asha gave a Sacred Geometries workshop and had figured out that everything was much simpler if, like Superman with his X-ray vision, you just stared through the cosmetic distractions and saw the underlying mathematical skeleton of the universe.  It was a meditation in itself to hear about these geometrists.  I stared upon the dome we were sitting in, and only its skeleton: a burst of meridians, curving backwards to cage the inner altar. The perfect geometry was also harnessed by the web tarp covering it. 
The main stage area is the size of a small open air night club. It smells like tropical orchids. A mini-throng of A around 300 or so fill the dance floor, in their eclectic clothes, gemstones, and sandals.  Jaya Lakshmi and Ananda come onstage as mist clouds tumble gracefully out of the surrounding mountains with the momentum of volcanic mudflows, and a light rain falls from a nearly cloudless sky overhead. Cue that kirtronica music. The dancers go straight from their receptive meditations into a freeing whirled movement, each going through some kind of Bollywoodesque transfiguration into a radiant god/goddess.  David Starfire incites the same, featuring Sita Devi on vocals. I orbit the stage again and again, amused, and having eaten nothing but cacao balls all day. The music continues for hours and hours into the night.  Saratone and Earth Gospel play that night. The Gathering of the Tribes music scene again fabricated itself, combining members of different groups, solo artists rooted in the authentic visionary music reality, and reflecting the dreams and aspirations of an audience of an evolutionary group of adults on the same chimera hunt. Most of the music is West Coast style, from California, Oregon, and Hawaii. The dome became a very active space that was designed to take advantage of the harmonics of the instruments: a harmonium, kartals, and guitars. The structure looked like an orb glowing in the firelight. We slept in tents, on the beach, cuddle puddled in the dome, beneath mosquito nets if at all. 
The next day partner yoga and flying yoga workshops fill the dome. Ram Dass gives a long and devotionally mellow spiritual discourse that leaves everyone feeling completed within awareness. Blue flowers bloom and fade in the sky around them. The isle is richly endowed with tall trees and flowering plants. The entire musical festival grew to the size of the Spiral Nebula in Andromeda- the part where we dissect the Universe with music in one elevating ever changing chord. Cosmic and spiritual philosophies began to exchange. The explanations were like a falcons dive through layer after layer of pretense and illusion, thrilling or confusing depending on what you were. The heavens were riven open. Friends glimpsed choirs of angels, ranking off into geometrical infinity, sitting on the Tree of Life overlooking the stage.  Fantuzzi brought out his funky Puerto Rican Kirtan love for everyone to get ecstatic about. Windsong and Diane Patterson both sing soul folk sets, and the arrangement of musicians coupled with deep grace songs touch everyones heart. The vibrations rise above the swelling young coconut palms, while the volcanic rock begins to glow in another mind blowing tropical sunset. Kaminanda brings forward electronic evolutionary dub crunk. Michael Kang and Chris Berry play with a light jam feel comingled with electronic beats.  Freedom fills the done and brings forward his shamanic coyote rhythms. 
In the morning, I pass through one campsite to another, each one a cluster of tents huddled within a tree grove growing within the sandy loam. I swim in the shallow waters of an isolated part of the beach, swimming in water only 2 feet deep. Afterwards, I zig zag around heaps of fresh coconuts piled at the trailside, spilling out and over the edge into the gravel. More cacao balls and raw foods, soups, and large amounts of curry and dal are served.  I check the date and discover that its Sunday morning. I arrive for the Temple of Peace Choir, and I sit down. The heart song call and response choir is singing and Kedar is strumming his guitar. The choir is spectacular and builds to a stirring harmony climax as everyone is called to stand and greet each other with a hug. Each member spreads their wings like eagles embracing each soul. During the service, during the songs and prayers, we are thinking about how we can express our intentions to build a peaceful world beginning with ourselves.  Afterwards, flying yoga. hoola hooping, and bollywood dancing classes take the center dancing area.
Maesyn and her band charge up from the beach accompanied by ovations.  So much happened during the music during the day. Everyone was standing with faraway looks on their faces, concentrating on her. The music begins to pulse, and she begins to sing a tuneless rap with a gradual coalescing pattern of sound. Her violin began to weave a musical line with a bouncy conclusion. Human Revolution brings forward bluegrass folk vibes. Later, Jah Levi's music accompanied by several horns, drummers, flutes, and nearly 10 people. Yet another angel descended from the Tree of Life, dressed in gold, and carrying plumeria leis for all of the dancers. The crowd was amazed, and did obeisance's.  The angel favored Jah Levi with a courly bow. She handed down a package in golden paper, and someone took it and pranced about then delivering it to Jah Levi, who opened the package. Out tumbled a huge pink tropical flower. He raised it up to his lips as it unfurled, and kissed it . The Tree of Life towering above the stage that held the various Angels began groaning, creaking, and they all flew away,  leaving Jah Levi and his band alone on stage to receive ovation from the crowd. For that moment, everything at the Mystic Island Festival was perfect.  Mama Crow and her brazilian funk samba rock band were thrown together onstage to surprise everyone and blast everyone into dance. 
Much more happened at the festival, but it all felt like an afterthought. The ocean lay in peace, a light lapping of waves against soft sand. Acacia trees on the bank next to Camp Olowalu yard out in the gentle surf, and house small crabs who watch me in the morning as I wake up.  The morning sunrise casts a silver blue sheen over the water like something risen out of dream mists. I gather my sleeping bag and tent I think about our previous few days. 
In mid-morning, the closing ceremony began seding up spouts of pipe smoke that swirled through the remaining crowd members. Honoring the four directions we were all praying for each other, for mankind, and for our own immortal souls. The Aina was feeling honored no doubt as the entire crowd lept into the ocean, held hands, and chanted om three times. A drum circle commenced with howling excitement.

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