Hovering high in the sky over the island of Karuna (an ancient word that means to ease suffering in Pali, an early Indo-Aryan language of India), I am taking deep breaths and remembering her birth scarcely seven months before. If you think that a virtual island, a place made of pixels, cannot be birthed, then you have a lot to learn about virtual reality. The key word there is "reality." But I digress.
Karuna's birth was as arduous as you might expect, given that we had just over a month to draw up plans, purchase the land, terraform, landscape, and construct all buildings before World AIDS Day was celebrated there. However, it was also, in many respects, incredibly easy.
Karuna began as a conversation between Carolina Keats (a Health Librarian working in Second Life) and I, and ended in a whirlwind race to meet a deadline - to see the island born before the world arrived to count its fingers and toes, peer into its eyes, and marvel at its one-of-a-kind perfection.
In between were conversations that took each of us who oversaw Karuna's gestation* down long, winding, and occasionally painful roads as we talked about the impact of HIV/AIDS, of what it means to heal, and the importance of commitment, friendship, and community to healing. Those conversations led me to realize that an island focused on HIV/AIDS should first and foremost be a celebration of life. And it was out of that awareness that Karuna's spirit began to emerge.
Do you believe that places, like people are imbued with innate qualities, vibrations, sparks of life that make them unique? I do. The day Karuna began to breathe (six days into the process) was the day I realized we had become midwives. I arrived that morning to the scent of dew soaked grass, flowers opening to the sun, and the chuckle of water falling over stones. Karuna not only looked and felt restful, but a palpable sense of presence permeated the scenery. Everywhere I looked I felt the landscape - the mountain, hills, trees, and rivers smiling back.
How can I explain these sensations in a world that is totally visual? How to make sense of the quiet certainity that I knew exactly what to do? One day it was time to carve space for a floating stage. The next an island to house the "Flame of Hope." And always the mountain, dirt brown and weathered, continued to climb into the sky, each sculpted stone balanced deftly into place by the master builder we'd hired.
There were plenty of mishaps and faux pas too. The day, for example, the builder accidentally deleted the entire Community Center, or I spent hours sculpting a section of land only to have to raise, level, and flatten it again. Oh, and did I mention the afternoon all scripts suddenly refused to work and Carolina and I realized that the building we'd chosen to house the Resource Center (and spent a hefty sum acquiring) wouldn't fit on the land allocated to it?
No, it wasn't all magic, fun, and mystical moments, but considering Karuna was conceived, built, and fine-tuned in a little over a month, I admit to feeling that something other than sheer time, talent, and determination was at work.
And then there was no more time to study, reflect, or build. World AIDS Day was upon us, and with it came a rush of media attention, avatars, and the usual hullabaloo that accompanies major events. Karuna was open, turned over to those who had funded the build, and I was left feeling more than a little tired and lost.
Fast forward five months and I find myself flying over the island we brought to life with a new challenge before me. Below me the waterfall sparkles and the Flame of Hope is just visible, flickering through the trees. Major changes are in the air: Carolina is leaving for the job of her dreams, the United States economy has taken a major hit, and funding for work in virtual worlds is not as readily available.
Even more of a surprise is the request I just received to take over as Karuna's caretaker. I am stunned, thrilled, and if truth be told a little shaky. It's not that I don't think I can do the job. It's that I hardly know where to start - can hardly contain the excitement I feel bubbling behind my smile.
And dare I say, dare I admit, I feel Karuna smiling back, ready and willing to emerge into a larger, community centered, and celebratory version of herself - the Self she, like each and every one of us, is working to become?
Stay tuned for the next stage of Karuna's birth.
*A Partial List of Those Who Assisted at Karuna's Birth
Lorlelei Junot
Carolina Keats
Glimmer Gears
Verde Otaared
Syd Straaf
Saxet Uralia