Spiritual Growth - Morning Star Institute -- About the Morning Star2

Ancient Voyage
by Steve Sundram

THE BAT AND THE SPIRIT

Calling it a fishing village does not really reveal its true identity. Yes, the village sustained itself through fishing, but the primary purpose of the village was as a gathering place for practitioners, students and teachers of the healing arts. It dated back some 600 years when magic was a way of life. The village was deserted when we arrived and only the sound of the wind and the surf broke the silence that surrounded us.

As we walked the pathways that crisscrossed the ancient village, I could feel the power, the great mana, of the site. Soon we arrived at a ledge that overlooked the ocean, which the Hawaiians refer to as grandmother, and decided that it was a good spot to meditate, to pray.

Time passed; images came and went in my mind as the veil between the worlds became thinner and thinner. After a period of time, I was back in the present hearing the surf and feeling the hot breath of the sun on the side of my face. As my eyes opened slowly, adjusting themselves to the light and to this reality, a sense of peace and happiness settled on me as if a mantle of lehua blossoms was a part of my soul.

A few minutes passed in silence as the wind gently rocked us. Then as I was beginning to explain to our friend the burning that I wanted to perform—a bat flew towards us, circled around us and then disappeared. This was in bright sunshine and during a time of day when bats usually do not appear. Our Hawaiian friend was amazed and excited by the appearance of the bat and said, “This is a great sign Jim. Nothing will stand in our way. We will be able to flow around any obstacles, physical or otherwise just like a bat does!”

What could I say? Little did I realize, however, that this was just the beginning of the magic that was destined to happen.

After this special appearance by the bat, we bid farewell to the village and drove to our last stop of the day. We were headed to one of the sacrificial temples of these isles—Mo’okini Heiau. It was situated not too far from the fishing village, and it as well, over-looked the ocean. Even though it had been built as a temple honoring Io, the creator god of these islands, it had been changed into one that worshipped Ku, the war god. It was here where human sacrifice was practiced.

Mo’okini Heiau
Sacrificial Altar

We parked our car by the ocean cliffs and began walking up-hill towards the ruined temple. Even though it was not yet dusk, there was a dark and foreboding feeling as we walked towards the temple ruins.

The temple had long been deserted, but that did not mean that it was uninhabited. Stones hold memories and destructive spirits may still linger in the inner recesses of such temple ruins. Caution, respect and common sense are important when approaching a heiau. And the proper prayers and offerings are not only necessary, but essential. Stones are never to be taken from a temple; not only out of respect, but also because they may carry memories or vibrations that could adversely affect a human.

Since it was late afternoon we needed to be extra-cautious as it is the time when the spirits begin to awaken. As we approached the heiau, I knew that my friend was doing prayers. No words were spoken as the three of us entered the ruins of the temple. Time suspended. I had an un-easy feeling about this sacred area that at one time had witnessed the sacrifice of humans to ‘feed’ the war god. It was the same feeling that I’ve had a few times before. Once during the summer of 1981, I had a similar feeling in Glastonbury, England. This occurred when Sherry and I had an encounter with a ‘spirit monk.’

After spending time in prayer we left the inner ruins of the heiau. On the way out my friend threw a stone into one of the open enclosures. The reason for this action is still a mystery to me as the immediate events that followed superseded my inquiry into why he threw a stone. I was more concerned with an uneasy feeling that had crept over me as soon as we had left the ruins. I felt that we were being watched by unseen eyes and followed. On the way back to our vehicle, I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see something or someone at any time. I was correct. As it turned out, a ‘spirit’ had followed me, but that is a tale for another time and another book.

The Burning