Templong Anituhan

Reflections from Ewa Beach, Hawai’i on Presence, Guidance, and the Mystery of Diwatang Kanlaon

As I write these words from Ewa Beach in Hawai’i, the sound of the ocean reaches my room. The waves continuously meet the shore while the wind carries the scent of the sea. Sunlight fills the morning sky, and yet my thoughts travel thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean toward the Philippines.

When I left our homeland, I consciously placed my journey under the protection of Bathala. Later, during the New Moon of September 11, 2026, we invoked Diwatang Kanlaon to become our guide and guardian for the lunar cycle. Yet, in the days that followed, I found myself wondering why it seemed more difficult to sense His presence.

Perhaps the answer was simple.

I came to Hawai’i not for retreat alone, but for service. My days became filled with teaching, healing, mentoring students, and engaging with people from many walks of life. My thoughts were constantly moving between languages. Before I could speak, I would first translate what I felt into English. Before I could express a spiritual insight, I would search for words that others could understand.

In this activity and responsibility, I began to wonder if I had somehow drifted away from the presence of Kanlaon.

Then one morning, while listening to the sea, a realization emerged.

Perhaps Diwatang Kanlaon was never absent.

Perhaps I was simply expecting Him to speak in a way that was loud enough for me to notice.

Learning from the Mountain

When we think of Kanlaon, many of us immediately think of the great mountain and volcano that bears His name. Mount Kanlaon does not announce itself every day with fire, thunder, or eruption. Most of the time it simply stands.

Silent.

Steady.

Majestic.

People notice it not because it constantly demands attention but because of its enduring presence. Whether one is looking directly at it or not, the mountain remains there, shaping the landscape and influencing everything around it.

As I reflected on this image, I realized that perhaps the guidance of Kanlaon functions in the same way.

We often expect spiritual guidance to come through dramatic signs, vivid visions, unusual dreams, or powerful emotions. Yet some of the deepest forms of guidance arrive quietly. They appear in the opportunities placed before us, the people we encounter, the lessons we learn, and even in the responsibilities we carry.

The mountain does not need to speak for us to know it is present.

Likewise, Kanlaon does not always need to reveal Himself through extraordinary experiences for His guidance to be active in our lives.

The Wisdom of “Laon”

Within Templong Anituhan, I have reflected deeply on the name Kanlaon.

The word laon may be understood as “ancient,” “old,” or “long existing.” It speaks of age, endurance, and accumulated wisdom. The particle kan may be interpreted as relating to ownership or belonging. Together, these ideas invite contemplation of Kanlaon as the Ancient One, the Elder Presence, the Keeper of deep memory and experience.

An elder who has witnessed countless seasons rarely needs to prove their wisdom through constant speech.

They have already seen the rise and fall of storms.

They have witnessed success and failure.

They understand that not every situation requires immediate action.

Because they know, they wait.

Because they understand, they observe.

Because they are wise, they move only when the proper moment arrives.

This reflection has transformed the way I understand Kanlaon as guide and guardian.

Rather than imagining Him as continuously speaking, I have begun to see Him as a watchful elder whose awareness never leaves those under His care.

He sees.

He remembers.

He observes.

And when truly needed, He responds.

Presence Beyond Distance

One challenge faced by many spiritual practitioners is the feeling of separation when traveling far from sacred places.

We may feel close to a Diwata while standing before a mountain, visiting a shrine, or participating in ritual with a community. Yet when we travel abroad, surrounded by unfamiliar landscapes and cultures, it can seem as though the connection becomes weaker.

But does sacred presence diminish because of geography?

Standing beside the Pacific Ocean in Hawai’i, I began to question this assumption.

The same sun that shines upon Kanlaon shines upon Ewa Beach.

The same wind that moves across the Philippine archipelago eventually travels across the great ocean.

The same waters connect distant shores.

Creation itself is interconnected.

If Kanlaon is merely a mountain, perhaps distance matters.

But if Kanlaon is also a sacred presence, a living spiritual reality associated with wisdom, guardianship, and time itself, then perhaps distance is not the obstacle we imagine it to be.

What may change is not the presence of the Diwata, but our awareness of that presence.

The Quiet Work of a Guardian

Many people imagine a guardian as someone constantly intervening. Yet some of the best guardians are almost invisible.

We may not notice them because they are already performing their role.

A guardian watches.

A guide influences.

A mentor allows growth.

An elder trusts experience to become a teacher.

Looking back at the days I have spent in Hawai’i, I now recognize countless moments where Kanlaon’s presence may have been quietly active: in meaningful conversations, in opportunities to teach, in the healing shared with others, in lessons learned through travel, and in the relationships strengthened through service.

These were not interruptions to my spiritual work.

They were my spiritual work.

The teaching, healing, listening, and learning were themselves part of the path.

Walking with Kanlaon

Today I no longer feel concerned that I cannot always hear the voice of Kanlaon in a direct or dramatic way.

Instead, I am learning to recognize His presence in the rhythm of everyday life.

In each sunrise.

In each conversation.

In each lesson learned.

In each person helped.

In each step taken along the journey.

A mountain does not stop being a mountain simply because clouds hide its summit.

Likewise, a guide does not stop guiding simply because we cannot immediately perceive their presence.

For those of us who have called upon Diwatang Kanlaon as guide and guardian, perhaps the invitation is not to seek louder signs, but to cultivate deeper awareness.

The Ancient One is not absent.

Like the great mountain itself, He stands in quiet strength.

Watching.

Waiting.

Remembering.

And through every second, every minute, every hour, and every day, His presence remains with us, accompanying us upon the path, whether we walk in the Philippines, Hawai’i, or anywhere beneath the same sacred sky.