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As the Keala Institute members reconvened, the spirit of aloha infused the group. They were appropriately serious and worried. Jorge Stotter tried to inject a bit of humor to lighten the atmosphere. “If we don’t want to suffer from solastalgia, we better get on the stick. I, for one, don’t want to sit in my own shit.” Ideas from the group started to flow as laughter, good humor, and glimmers of hope prevailed.
Roper’s eager voice spoke out, “I got it. I know it now. Hawaii is more than a place. It’s a way of being in our world.”
Real estate mogul Jo Chu said, “Agreed. The idea of aloha, it’s a way of thinking about life, a philosophy. Made me rethink my own thinking. I’m starting to see my ideas as a subtle putdown—like ‘if they take good care of the house, then I will give it to them.’ That’s pure chutzpah on my part. The land was theirs. Their ancestors revered the land but were bamboozled out of it. And now, they could just take off on us and leave us aloha-less? Is there such a word?”
Bloomer confessed, “I’m a man of few words, but I should have had more to say before now. When I scrutinize how carelessly we’ve treated our own land, I’m embarrassed. And sad to think of the pain inflicted on native Hawaiians. I regret what was done.”
Stotter’s face was crimson as he burst out, “It hit me like a ton of bricks. Damn it, we are 60% water. We ought to understand it. Disrespect for and ignorance of water, or wai, is central to our current problems. Businesses pollute our waters, and we let them get away with it. At worst, they pay a fine, but they stay in business. Food manufacturing, aerospace, defense technologies, energy corporations dump toxic chemicals and poison people in the name of profit. And when confronted, these polluters act as if they are the victims. They scream bloody murder about any regulations that fetter them, as if they have a right to pollute the planet. We can learn from the ancient Hawaiians who dealt with the misuse of public resources. They valued water as essential to individual and community life, and anyone who diverted or poisoned the water paid big time. That is what should happen here to any freakin’ person who threatens the life of the community.”
Hexter shouted, “Let’s put so-called kuleana aside. But we would do well to tap into ancient Hawaiian wisdom. I guess calling it the aloha paradigm makes sense. Such a way of looking at things can stabilize the ecological balance in Hawaii; we’d have a model to follow to conserve the rest of the planet.”
Roper added, “Yeah, I’m with you on that. Stop the snatch! Leave the land alone. The land grabs are growing worse. Too much money in the hands of so few is bad for the land. Very wealthy people are guzzling up shoreline property with lightning speed. These land-hoarding, selfish souls want to hog nature’s bounties.” Roper stared at Martina Scarlet, who squirmed in her seat.
Antonio sensed Scarlet’s discomfort was seeping into the room. A self-affirmed staunch environmentalist, she had invested Scottymart money into a huge real estate holding on Konokoko Island. She had assured everyone at the time that she would generously share her land by improving access roads to miles of beaches. Once the deal was done, her wide-open policy had morphed into the building of a “decorative wall” around her land on the island. The wall prevented direct access to the ocean and kept people out. Every day, disappointed and angry demonstrators met at the gate to protest the rise of the ugly wall. Glancing at Roper, she stuttered, “I am holding the land so it will be in better condition than when I found it.”
A disapproving silence filled the room. Jorge finally broke the uncomfortable hush. “Oh really? How are you upgrading the land? Very few of us have had a bang-up relationship with nature. We’ve paved over the Earth. We’ve built mansions for the rich and slums for the poor. Hawaiians lived in sustainable communities for thousands of years. I am beginning to understand that we haoles have failed quite miserably to improve the environment. We’re hardly the ones to be held up as shining examples to guide the ancients.[53] Would you consider putting this land back in the hands of those it was stolen from and who loved it to life, not death, Scarlet? We need to ask the kahunas for some precise help and follow their lead.”
Scarlet looked uncomfortable. “I’ll consider it...but...”
Scarlet’s unease was interrupted when a flustered Alicia walked up to Antonio and whispered in his ear, “There’s some problem with the dinner that you told everyone about. Chef Reversa is so chagrined that I’m told he’s on his way here with Jean La—And here they are now.”
LaFleur and the chef burst through the door of the meeting room and headed straight for Antonio. Remaining calm and cool, Antonio told the group, “We seem to have a problem. I’ll let our chef and his invited guest, Jean LaFleur, explain.”
Stotter sputtered, “The Jean LaFleur? The renowned marine biologist?”
“Yes, yes,” said Chef Reversa. His rounded shoulders and dejected posture signaled distress as he introduced LaFleur, who roughly grabbed the microphone out of the chef’s hand and bellowed, “The meal you were to be served tonight? It is no more. The lobsters Chef Reversa had flown here especially from Maine are not edible. Do you hear me? They cannot be eaten!”
Roper burst into sarcastic laughter. “Let’s not worry about our bellies. We’re trying to save the planet here. We need to focus on the big stuff. Forget about the goddamn meal. Or get someone to go out and grab some Hawaiian lobsters.” Roper shrugged and laughed again. A few titters would be heard from other members of the group.
LaFleur returned the laughter with a hostile staccato guffaw. Without warning, the biologist vaulted his body into the heart of the group and waved his arms wildly. Clutched tightly in each hand was a dead lobster, claws swinging. His anger was obvious as he cried out, “Fools, let me tell you a lobster tale. Look...look here. Feast your eyes on these lobsters.” LaFleur’s voice reached a crescendo as he glared at the group. “See the limp, green bodies? They are not the lobsters you know. They are corpses, cadavers. Their shells are covered with a disgusting whitish film and mottled with dark yellow spots. They are very sick, filled with disease. Don’t you understand? Your ignorance is maddening to any intelligent human being who loves the wonders of nature. Look at what we have done to the creatures of the Earth, to our food, to our oceans, to the animals, to ourselves!”
The group was stunned into silence.
LaFleur roared on. “Listen and listen carefully. The great chain of life just sent you a personal message. Minimize the meaning of your missing lobster dinner, will you? You clowns. Damn you. You should make your loss of a lobster dish a big, big part of your so-called big, big plan. Don’t you buffoons get it? Your silly minimization of the big problems, your unawareness of their significance, its connection to the extinction of so many species, now the lobsters, and your lack of immediate action are killing us.”
LaFleur was so angry his face was reddening by the minute. “Our climate crisis just fingered your dinner table. All of the combined wealth and power in this room cannot produce the anticipated lobster dinner. Why? Because the Earth’s temperature is heating up so quickly it can no longer sustain this lowly lobster life form—this poor creature that was once disdained as the ‘insect of the ocean.’ They were so plentiful people walked over them on the beach. The lobsters are dying. Dying! Do you get it? The climate is topsy-turvy.”
Dead silence filled the room.
LaFleur went on. “Also, your lobster trouble is your whale trouble. The lobsters are responsible for the last events in the impending extinction of some whale species.”
LaFleur detected Roper rolling his eyes and asking how lobsters could possibly win a fight with a whale.
“Again I see your ill-informed, unenlightened, and ignorant attitude in your comments and oblivious gazes that have brought us to this precipice. You laugh when I say lobsters kill whales. You doubt me? You miserable fuckheads. You show how witless you are. You have no clue how the chain of life works. Use your frontal lobes to grasp the big picture, to understand the interconnectedness of all life. The lobster population is spiraling down quickly. Lobster hunters are desperate to search out their prey because they’re losing income. They don’t respect the lobster. No, they just grieve the loss of the cash brought by the lack of lobsters. The Cape Cod lobsters that you find so delicious are dying out.
“Rising sea temperatures make the lobsters seek colder waters in order to survive. Lobster fishermen who follow their prey into colder, deeper waters must use longer and longer lines to set their traps. The innocent whales, residents of deeper water, get entwined in these longer lobster lines. Once entangled, the whale cannot free itself. It cannot surface in order to breathe and drowns ever so slowly, inch by inch. An agonizingly slow death. Between being harpooned for their commercial value and getting caught in nets that shouldn’t be there, some whale species are near extinction. Greed and heedlessness kill! How many species must be lost before you get the big picture? Is it right for the lobsterman to earn a living at the cost of a species of whale? Is it moral for the lobsterman to lose his livelihood because of the greed of those who pollute the water, who don’t understand, or turn a blind eye, to the warnings about how fossil fuels are impacting the climate? If you understood what acting as stewards of the Earth means, these lethal situations would not be. I have been quietly fighting them through the years, but now I must raise my voice, louder and louder. I must scream and shriek.
“You’d better take this personally,” continued LaFleur, “because soon enough of us here and our families will be dying! It begins with the perishing lobsters, continues with the dying whales, and progresses to you. Yes, you! The ocean is becoming acidic, which destroys the marine ecosystems you depend on for food. Toxic chemicals, oils, pesticides, runoff from farms, mounds of plastic trash all rush into rivers and end up in the oceans. When you reach the point where you lose all that is important and familiar to you, let’s see how much laughter falls from your lips.”
Not a peep could be heard in the room. LaFleur’s penetrating blue eyes scanned the crowd as he continued his rant. “The issue in this moment is simple. When you disrespect nature, when you ignore and discount the slight changes, you show that you do not understand the cycle of life on your planet—your one and only home. Life is like a giant network, and every part of the network is connected to the other parts. What happens to one part of the network affects the whole of the network. Whatever you do to the lobster or the whale or any other creature, you do to yourselves.
“Earth is at the tipping point. And the scales are tilted against you. If you want to destroy Earth for human habitation, congratulations; you are well on your way to doing so. All the money in the world cannot resurrect these lobsters in my hands. All the money in the world cannot buy back the Earth we once knew. A great karmic debt is about to be collected. In the name of ‘progress’ or what is really ‘profit for some,’ humans have paved over nature to build malls, fast food restaurants, economy motels, high rises on sand, golf courses, bike paths, race tracks—anything that will make money. Humans are expert destroyers. They wipe out any species that cannot give them immediate reinforcement. We will go down in history as extinctionists. And nature possesses its own way of extinguishing such groups. You’d be surprised how a tiny creature like a virus can take over an entire out-of-control, badly behaved species and cull or extinguish it. Mother Nature is making the necessary changes to rid herself of those who are abusing her. Humanity will be left behind in the wreckage of its own greed.”
Everyone in the room seemed paralyzed. Finally, one feeble voice meekly asked, “What can we do?”
“This is my message to you, which I can’t repeat enough: There is a solution if you have the will to achieve it.” LaFleur paused. “So why don’t you use all of your wealth and power to do the right thing and save what is left of our home? You are learning about Hawaii? Listen to the wisdom of the ancients without hurting them in any way. They have aloha. Move to the small things. Like using your money and influence to transform lobster hunters into lobster stewards. Pay them to revive and bring back the plentiful lobster before it is too late. Educate, educate, educate. Make them see the connection you do not see between the lobster and the whale until now. Use your wealth to convert consumers to conservers! But will you? You are like monkeys caught in a trap of their own making. The trap is a hollowed-out coconut tethered to a stake and filled with rice. The monkey can fit his open hand into the coconut to grasp the rice. But his clenched fist cannot fit back through the opening. The only way to free his hand is to let go of the rice. But because the monkey won’t let go, he is trapped by his own greed.[54] You are trapped by the huge sums of money you have made from resources stolen from all beings on the planet. Give them back! Transform stolen goods into goodness. Thus is my message to you: Let go and get your hand out of the coconut.”
LaFleur curtly turned his back to the group and marched out of the room, Chef Reversa in tow. LaFleur’s dramatic whirlwind performance left the members of the Keala Institute shell-shocked. Antonio felt a sense of melancholy. LaFleur was on target about loss of species and karmic debt caused by greed. All the money in the world couldn’t buy back the passenger pigeon, the dodo, Steller’s Sea cow, the great auk, and on and on. Antonio seized the opportunity that LaFleur had provided. “This was obviously not on the planned program. Let’s talk about it.”
Cassie and Norah gazed at each other. They both remembered their own anger when they had walked along the beach at Cape Cod and seen the remains of a lobster all covered with the same muck and mire, the whitish, mossy stuff they saw here. They guessed it was diseased. Norah and Cassie both asked once more, What the fuck are we doing to our own environment? The disease reached from lobsters on the East Coast to dinner plates on the West Coast. Could it spread?
Hexter asked, “If we don’t take responsibility, if we don’t stop the spread of pollution, will we accumulate more psychic debt? And how do we pay it? I’m not saying we who are alive today are personally liable for past injustices, but since we’re in the know, is the onus on us to remedy the problematic legacy of our ancestors’ misdeeds? Is that the cost to us? Is this where the so-called curse of solastalgia comes in if we do not act responsibly?”
Flannagan spoke up. “I’m not sure what to make of this cursed-with-solastalgia talk. Sounds outlandish to me. Furthermore, I’m not a climate change denier, but I’m not fully convinced that humans are responsible for climate change or global warming or whatever you call it. I think some scientists exaggerate the consequences. As for karma, I don’t even want to go there.”
Morona broke in, “I disagree. I do feel responsible. I don’t think we can move on until we come to grips with what was. If we don’t understand our past, how can we make a better future? We can’t change the course of history or its past dark deeds. We weren’t born when our ancestors did what they did, but we gained from our ancestors’ transgressions. We need to at least look at the consequences, unintended or not. Even if we’re not to blame, we can take action to end this morbid state of affairs. Solastalgia is real, and maybe it’s a warning about the natural consequences of past and present misbehaviors. I mean, who does not feel bad when a big drought comes along and crops are ruined? I remember two years ago my apple tree bloomed in February. Then it got colder and all the blossoms died. The tree never really bloomed again. We had only two apples on the entire tree last year, and it usually produces a couple of bushels. I’d like to understand more about human reaction to the changing climate regardless of who’s at fault.”
Antonio gazed over at Norah. “We have Dr. Norah Mayer with us. Maybe she can help us understand this idea of solastalgia as a psychological phenomenon.”
Norah nodded and walked over to Antonio. “Solastalgia is a form of depression,” she began. “Simply put, we can become homesick in our own physical, geographic home. If we lose what is most important to us in our living spaces—forests, favorite animals, lakes, oceans and on and on—we can experience terrific stress and eventually this darkens our moods. We don’t think about it consciously, but we have a relationship with our ecosystem. Our bodies are connected to the air, to the nature around us. When our environment changes, we change, too. Most people don’t know that spending time outdoors affects us. There is science in Japan to show that trees emit terpenes. And terpenes help us to be healthy by stimulating our immune systems. We are all part of the ecosystem. How can we not feel dislocated and destabilized if we have dismembered these natural resources that give us a feeling of well-being? As the climate crisis proceeds and we lose so much of our familiar earthly space, it will increasingly affect our mental health, even if only unconsciously.[55] We need to find a way to talk about our reactions to the troubling state our environment is in.”
“Hey, everybody. I get solastalgia!” said Howard Hexter. “I’ve felt it. Up until now, I had no name for this feeling. I know this is just a small example, but when I was a kid, we lived in a six-unit apartment building. It was a real dump with no yard. But in back of the apartment was a huge vacant lot, covered with grass and weeds and trees and bushes. It was green and full of life, and to us poor kids it was an oasis. My sister and I and our friends played in the weeds there every day after school. We picked wildflowers, built cardboard tents, hid behind trees, caught fireflies to see them light up and then let them go. It was glorious for us kids who were so poor we had no spot of nature to relate to and call our own.
“One day, a bunch of machines and trucks moved into the lot. My parents told us the owner was improving the property and forbid us to play there that day. But when my sister and I came back from school the next day and ran out to play, we stopped dead in our tracks. I was horrified. The lot had been bulldozed. Everything green had been cut down. Several days later, black, smelly asphalt covered the space. Our own tiny nature land was now a parking lot. Even though I was standing in the exact same location, what I loved about it had vanished. It sounds crazy, but we never really got over this. So I empathize with others who lose such special spots. We’ll all become even madder and sadder than we are today if we let more of nature be lost to us. If we are cursed with solastalgia, it’s because we earned it. Remorse will be deep and lasting.”
Antonio stepped in. “As LaFleur pointed out, we’re out of balance. We’ve set a complicated ecological process in motion. To shape a new covenant, let’s address our past injustices. Let’s right the wrongs. We are beneficiaries of the deeds and misdeeds of our forebears. The members of this group are a tiny percentage of the world, and yet we own so much of it. So we have to step up to keep the planet going.”
George Bloomer spoke up. “I really think humans will be extinct soon if we don’t do something fast. Some other species will take over. Maybe the cockroaches. I’ve studied the history of the diseases that nearly wiped out the Hawaiians. Amazing that they somehow managed to save themselves from total extinction. They’re on to something. This solastalgia, well, it can be described as an epidemic, maybe a pandemic, of depression and regret for what we did and didn’t do on this Earth. Not to mention COVID.”
“Thanks, George,” said Antonio. “I’ll throw out another idea before we adjourn and each of us goes back to our home to ponder specific proposals and share them with the group. I think in order to have a chance to protect our planet, we must control the birth rate and redistribute the wealth. You’ve met with some of the Hawaiians actively working to restore the wisdom of the ancients—the kahuna. We can hope they’ll teach us how to be honorable stewards of the Earth. We can begin by addressing the Hawaiians’ great loss and then addressing the problems of the planet. Are you with me?”
“You’re right, Antonio. And I’m definitely with you,” said a voice from the audience.
The group cheered and yelled. As Antonio raised his hand to quiet them, Jorge Stotter’s tall figure popped up. “I think you’ve hit pay dirt, Antonio and Alicia. You’ve persuaded me that if Hawaii can be revived, then the planet may have a chance. It can never be restored to its original state, but if revived, who knows? Nature may take pity on all of us. Since we began talking about this project, I’ve tried to study and understand the history of Hawaiians and their society of aloha. And shift to honor their way of life. In their relationship to āina, they were one with the Earth. They understood how the environment nourishes us and the entire ecosystem was related—the oceans, the land, the sky, and all living creatures. They are truly ecotherapists.”
Martina Scarlet exclaimed rather sheepishly, “At least I didn’t take over an entire island. But, yes, I need to find a way to deal with my land ownership. I hope to do the right thing with the land.”
Antonio smiled warmly, sensing her sincerity. “Thanks, Martina. Alicia and I firmly believe that we first have to deal with our own past actions before seeking further counsel from the kahuna.”
Martina spoke up again. “Antonio, I think you’re picking on me. I’m not the only one who purchased land in Hawaii.”
Antonio smiled ruefully. He knew Martina could process his chiding. “Ah, Martina, my friend, you are correct. But we have to shed the ‘neo-colonialist’ label.”
“I’m aware of that contemptuous label hurled at me—and my family. To be truthful, it does get under my skin. But what the hell am I supposed to do? If I don’t buy the land, someone else will. At least if I own it, I’ll take care of it. And stand in the way of a greedier person turning it into more condominium units or another resort. But the Keala group has me thinking about how I can do better. I’m not really buying into the notion of karma. It’s too crazy that negative mental energy from our ancestors’ deeds can still be floating around.”
Antonio replied thoughtfully, “Even if there is no such a thing as karmic debt—which I personally feel is real—it doesn’t hurt to face up to the consequences of past deeds. Karmic debt or no, we could all be dragged down by what we owe to our planet.”
Martina, with a friendly smirk on her face, confronted Antonio. “And what about you? You and Alicia own a pretty piece of property in Kailua, don’t you? Directly on an exquisite beach? That makes you a neocolonialist, too, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, yes, of course, it does,” Antonio admitted. “But did you also know that this property is in a trust for the Kingdom of Hawaii? I am in essence renting it from the true owners. But all the more reason for us to unravel the problems with our particular business dealings so we all can move on to our global problems.”
Roper asked, “Is there a way to get those crazies in the Supreme Individual organization to wake up and get involved? We’ll have to reckon with these guys as a strong ideological force. We can’t ignore them. They do emit a strong energy. Does anyone have any idea about how the gang leader, Dudley Shamus, is doing?”
Added Stotter, “I haven’t heard. But if he’s better, maybe Martina could work on Dudley. While I wish him well after his ordeal, we can’t overlook the fact that his ownership of Nalani is a cruel invasion, a modern takeover that imitates the past. The Supreme Individuals organization is a breeding ground for destructive followers of Dudley’s me-me-me philosophy. These guys lack normal human compassion.”
“We need a way to consider these opposing ideologies—individualism versus collectivism,” said Antonio. “As we work to stabilize our environment, we must help everyone recognize we’re on a collision course with oncoming ecological doom.”
Flannagan mused, “So, as you suggested earlier, Tony, let’s regroup. Go back home. Organize our resources. Do our own housekeeping, so to speak. And formulate our future plans. We can talk with one another online and then meet back in person with the Hawaiians.”
“This is fascinating,” kicked in Omaha, a woman who owned several mansions and acreage on every one of the islands. “To be greedy is to do harm. Now I understand why you picked Hawaii as a base for our mission, Tony. Maybe Martina and I can work together.”
Ripples of agreement were heard as Antonio spoke. “Let’s take George’s advice and adjourn for today, get our acts together, then set up our next meeting. Keep in close touch, everyone. And thanks for coming today. Together we can accomplish a lot. By the way, sorry about the lobster banquet. But there are cocktails and hors d’oeuvres set up in the next room.”