My Cliffside Retreat

by Christopher Lovejoy on September 25, 2011

Not long after I realized that no one was coming to my rescue, I settled into a pattern of daily activity that included a dip in the sea, a quiet meditation, and a jog around the island.

I did what came naturally, allowing a fulfilling daily routine to emerge over a period of months. In my extreme isolation, this routine helped me to stay focused on health, fitness, and vitality.

I reframed my isolation as time alone on an extended vacation in a tropical paradise, which, in many ways, it was – and still is. I used whatever was available to me to have the time of my life.

On this particular day, my life on this island changed in a way that solidified my presence here. While swinging breezily in my hammock one fine afternoon, I began thinking about caves.

I don’t why I started thinking about caves. Nothing in my environment prompted me to think about caves. As I said, I was swinging in my hammock, feeling like I had all the time in the world.

Out of the blue, I thought about what an ideal cave might look like, where a cave could be found, why a cave might be important, and how a cave could offer vital protection from the elements.

And then, for no apparent reason, I felt compelled to go for a swim on my back around the island. As I did so, I kept looking to the various features of the landscape near the shore.

Up to this point, I had explored the island thoroughly. Or at least I thought I had. My swim proved otherwise. As I rounded the westernmost curve of the island, near the highest point on the island, I saw what looked like a small cave inside the cliff, about a dozen feet above the ground. I observed that the face of the cliff was too steep for a rock climb, at least for me, and so I decided to fashion a ladder.

I spent the following day searching for raw materials: thick branches to make a frame, natural twine from the midsections of certain leaves to secure the frame, and resilient leaves for the crosspieces.

I finished building it in late afternoon – on time, as it turned out.

The sky was dark and getting darker. The wet season was announcing its arrival and I wasted no time in getting the ladder secured under the cave with rocks at the bottom and twine at the top.

I gathered everything I owned, except the hammock, and put it in the cave for safekeeping. At the entrance of the cave, I sat and watched the rain fall, listening to waves crash on the rocks below.

Because I was on the leeward side, not much rain entered the cave. I could sit at the entrance on the edge in a meditative state with my feet dangling along the cliff face.

I contemplated the state of this world under a menacing sky above a tumultuous sea.

In large measure, the state of this world is what drove me here.

At one time, I loved this world. I even dared to have high ideals for it. It held a lot of promise for me.

Since near the beginning of this millennium, however, this promise shrank to the size of a withered prune. The ideals evaporated inside vacuums of dark despair. My love for this world slipped away into oblivion under quick flashes of contempt and defiance through long, dark tunnels of apathy.

I came to realize that it wasn’t the world per se that was at fault, but the people who had come to occupy it, or more precisely, the cultural and psychological baggage of those who had allowed themselves to be conditioned to think, feel, behave, and conform in carefully prescribed and proscribed ways, and the compensations that they sought, found, and used unconsciously to relieve themselves of their inner torment.

Clearly, not everyone in this world was in a mad, bad, sad state, but many were, and the carefree among us had seen fit to insulate themselves from the ongoing misery, depravity, and insanity.

I understand that crises never last, that adversity can be met with alacrity, that strong feelings can be weathered with calm, that love is the ultimate answer, and that the world, for the most part, is what you think it is.


Some, perhaps much, of what I see in this world is a projection of my own intentions and expectations, and some, perhaps much, of what I see is a mirror of what I intend and expect, but for me to assume or to believe that this world is solely a projection of my state of mind, or for me to think or to feel that the outer world is merely a mirror of my inner world, is naive at best.

The incidental, the accidental, and the coincidental events that arise in this world have energies all their own. They don’t require my state of mind to exist, nor do they require my input, nor do they require my approval.

The conspiratorial also has energies of its own.

If those who had the most to lose were aware of potentially calamitous events on the horizon, either because of imminent, catastrophic earth changes or because of looming crises related to overpopulation, or both, why wouldn’t they conspire and connive with craft to offset or prevent the damage that might be caused by these events, seeking and moving secretly and with stealth through elaborate schemes to protect themselves and their considerable interests?

I ask this question reflectively, in a pensive tone: why wouldn’t they?

Why wouldn’t they build deep underground military bases? Why wouldn’t they have an agenda to reduce the world’s population? Why wouldn’t they stifle progress on the energy front? Why wouldn’t they control the flow of information in their favor? Why wouldn’t they discredit, imprison, or assassinate those who tried to blow their cover? And why wouldn’t they use questionable means to pay for it all?

Even if this meant cooking up a cover story for the massacre of more than several thousand people. Even if this meant forcing regime change by replacing wealthy dictators who didn’t share their wealth. Even if this meant using scare tactics to enforce multiple bouts of quantitative easing at the expense of taxpayers. Even if this meant relentlessly flooding the entertainment industry with stories steeped in darkness. Even if this meant setting up a deeply invasive control grid of surveillance to offset the inevitable civil unrest caused by a pervasive atmosphere of terror or by a steady descent into austerity and poverty all around the world. Even if this meant manufacturing a phony war on terror as a cover for conducting preparatory drills. Of course, if anyone cared to do the research and connect the dots, this was just the tip of one massive iceberg.

Pesticides and chemicals that compromise fertility. Vaccines for engineered viruses that attack the immune system. Genetically modified food that reduce fertility over the long-term. Chemtrails that make us too tired, weak, or ugly to procreate. Social engineering through mass media manipulations that turn the sexes against each other, with porn and promiscuity as poor substitutes.

Were these the indicators of desperation? Or coldly calculated weapons of mass reduction?

With all of the pressures bearing down on this benighted little world, we were tempted, like prejudiced little fascists with swollen egos, and like easily triggered agents of the law serving as executioners with impunity, to grow colder, darker, meaner, more competitive, less cooperative, more aggressive, and less responsive – naively, stupidly, and ignorantly oblivious to the effects, results, and outcomes.

Or, we were tempted to enter clouds of light and descend into the moment, like perfect little angels, insulating ourselves from the darkness beyond, oblivious to the grief, the anguish, and the misery.

Humanity: a burdened, beleaguered species dancing like angels and demons on the edge of extinction?

Or was it more benign than this? If the alien presence on this planet was in fact abducting us, using us, and grooming us for our eventual replacement with a hybrid species, owing to our collective ineptitude and violent nature, we were clearly on our way out.

It was enough to drive a person into paradise on a deserted island.

And here I was now, a tiny spark of light in a vast cosmos, feeling settled and blessed, even in the midst of a raging storm, away from the chaos and confusion, the tension and the torment.


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