Volcano Gods

by Juliet Hwang

my body is finally warm – after drinking my herbal tea. i am convinced it will heal me. it is running through my veins – clearing it out. chasing the toxins. churning things over.
     upheaval.
          transformation.
               liberation.
i can’t ask for anything more. hace mucho tiempo.

i have been reading bernie siegel’s* book on exceptional survivors – people who cured themselves of cancer. how they have characteristics of survivors.

i am a survivor
i am alive
i am creative
i do not have to live in fear
i have come back from the dead
i am a warrior

i am happiest when i am doing yoga. i love warrior pose. like that greek sculpture we learned in art history 101. poseidon, poised with his trident. perfectly in balance.

i love tree pose. standing tall. arms branching up to the heavens.
     spreading.
          connecting.
               living.
                    breathing.

like that time i felt god.

i had taken the chance and hitched hiked halfway up the side of haleakelah volcano. i met two workers of the park in their beat up truck. the man in cut off khakis and stained t shirt, talked on and on about how much he loved the volcano. he had just returned from a solo backpacking trip for four days to celebrate his 40th birthday. wow. that’s courage – i thought. she had blond, unbrushed hair – for days. her hiking boots screamed, “i’ve been everywhere.” she had a rugged confidence – that made me want to try.

i wasn’t sure how long the hike would be. i knew i didn’t want to take the same trails in and out. i wanted to do the eight hour loop.

the hike went through so many terrains – like each hidden crevice of my mind. misty valley, rocky deserts, sand dunes lined with silversword cacti. with each terrain and each hour, i revisited an old lover, voiced my resentments and converted them into well wishes.

i took a break to eat – in the middle of a circle of boulders. i dedicated a korean folk song – to the lover who clung to me for two years, abused me, threatened to kill himself if i left him and drove around aimlessly for ten hours – so i would stay on the phone with him.

i sang and purged my soul of anger until i was empty.

with each hour, the sun started its trek back home, and i started panicking about my calculations of water, miles, and sunlight.

i approached each wooden sign with increasing worry – and realized – it was me against the rotation of the earth and the path of the sun.

i sped up the last mountain like it was my last task before i was to die. i was listening to my breath and coordinated them with my steps to save energy. i sang to keep myself company – and held on to each rock with each incline – begging for blessings and safety and time.

i watched my hiking boots and how it caressed each step. each step towards life. i didn’t look up – for fear of failure, that the top was too high. i kept my eyes on the shoelaces, the tone of the sunlight on the rocks, and the moss growing.

as i rose higher and higher, the moss grew thicker, plants bore pink flowers and i felt like i was entering somewhere sacred.

before i knew it, i had reached the top – and i took my final step.

i saw the expansiveness of the universe for the first time. i saw the jagged mountain with the countless switchback trails i had just climbed – under my feet – and i could see all the different terrains i had traveled. the crisp sunlight illuminated lovers lost, sites of forgiveness, desires for unconditional love – and i had plateaued – to acceptance.

my fingertips became aware of the where they were, and spread. i heard my breathing rise and fall and love, just expanding my chest, and i rose.

i was eye to eye with ancient oaks with garlands of moss and orchids. and everyone danced with the hummingbirds and pollen and honeysuckles floating in the wind.

and i suddenly knew – i had been lifted, blessed, and cared for all along. i had neglected to look up at the sky – and it was finally here. all laid out. stories in trees, flowers, mosquitoes and mist.

i released my backpack, caked with mud, from my chest and hips.

     and i bowed down,
          to my knees,
               in gratitude.

* Love, Medicine and Miracles by Bernie Siegel