Expect nothing, assume nothing

In a mere three days, this blog is coming to a close. This particular adventure is coming to a close. Life as I have known it for the past five months is coming to a close. I am on the cusp of great change once again, and I'm okay with trading the familiarity I've come to know with the comforts of home. I'm mostly okay with the fact that there are a lot of unknowns when I come back to familiar turf. Luckily, I have a month with family to be able to restore and recalibrate my relationship to the pace that characterizes my life on the west coast, knowing that my relationship to time and everything else will be perhaps permanently altered. How could it not be, after being gone for five months? 

Expect nothing, assume nothing--a key phrase to remember when I feel tempted to compare my life to how things used to be. I'll have to do my absolute best to kindly place the past on the shelf and welcome the happenings as they come. Coming home is a whole new adventure in and of itself: a lot of elements will remain unchanged, but my new perspective and experience will be what changes the game and saves me from getting restless and wishing I were somewhere else. 

In a mere three days, I'm claiming a new lease on life in San Bruno and then Portland shortly after. I have a feeling inside telling me that everything is going to be more than okay and that I'll be pointed in all of the right directions. In short, I'm feeling super positive even though I have no solid logistics in place as far as work and a living situation goes. These things always take care of themselves and the effort will be put into place in due course. Don't get me wrong, I could have a completely different take on this whole trust thing tomorrow or sometime in the future when my fear of the unknown tendency rears its ugly head. But for now, I have my mind set on sowing the positive, trust-filled seeds to bring forth plenty of abundance for the future. 

Loy Krathong

Lanterns are released,

Suffering is released.

Commonality is found

By the milky light of the full moon.

Suffering becomes lighter, 

Weight is lifted--

The lanterns go higher 

Because our suffering is fuel.

Suffering feeds the fire.

Collective intentions to release 

Suffering are on display by 

The thousands tonight.

The whole sky is made that much

More beautiful and bright because of

The pain of the people in

This blessed city.

Fire is our element tonight:

Lanterns, candles, fireworks, incense.

Fire transforms everything it touches--
It is never the same again.
Everything unnecessary is burnt.
A new pathway becomes more clear.
We have more space to work with.

We pay homage to ourselves,

As we acknowledge and accept

All of ourselves.

Karma shifts, and the new beginning arrives
Full of the most encouraging possibility.

Putting it together

In her memoir Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert at one point comes to the realization that all three of the countries she had visited begin with the letter I: Italy, India and Indonesia. Pretty fitting, considering that her journey had revolutionized her sense of I-ness. I thought it would be fun to look at the first letters of the countries that I've visited and make an acronym for each one, consisting of the qualities of the place and things I experienced there.

Cambodia: compassion, confusion, celebration, carefree

Thailand:  truth, tenderness, trials, transient

Laos: love, loyalty, longing

As this transcontinental journey extraordinaire slowly comes to its close in the next two weeks, I'm naturally taking some time to reflect and begin the process of digesting exactly what happened to me here. I know that waves of perspective will wash over me once I'm back on familiar soil, but it's good now to pat myself on the back for the brave thing I've done, according to my friends. My original expectation was that I'd be gone for a year at least. About two months into it, a force greater than I stepped in and repeatedly let me know that I'd be going home in November to be with my family for the holidays, and I listened, knowing in my heart that I truly wanted to be back. The big thing I've learned here in Southeast Asia is that nothing is ever what you expect it to be; I was taught to go with the flow real quick, lest I be needlessly suffering over petty shit utterly out of my control.

Before I left the U.S., I had no real expectation of what I was in for and I had no solid goals in sight--I knew I just needed to broaden my scope and lead a different life for awhile. I wouldn't necessarily say that I came here for an inner revolution, but rather a confirmation of the inner revolution that has been happening over the past few years. Somehow I felt like I needed to test the practices that have nurtured my transformation at home in a completely unfamiliar environment. Well, it was more like I needed to test myself and see how I would do with the practices that have been given to me when I effectively changed up the circumstances. I took it upon myself as the next stage in my development (and man, was I in for it!).

That's the thing about being on your own and voluntarily removing yourself from everything that you once found solace in--all that is left is you and all of those lovely thoughts circulating furiously about your head. In essence, the journey now became a kind of retreat where self-study was at the top of the priority list, simply because I couldn't ignore it. This was the task that had been appointed to me, and only me because nobody knows me better than I. I took on solitude for the first time in my life, and only because I was prepared for it. Not going to lie, every day was a bit of a battle as layers of pent-up discomfort, attachment and desire came up to the surface. That's the thing about self-study--you have to be ready to meet and defeat (if only temporarily) whatever shows up with the ferocity of any warrior defending their honor. I think I finally understand now why everyone has been telling me that what I've done has been an act of sheer bravery.

The grass is always greener

I was taking the usual route to my guesthouse after dinner, when I paused and looked up at the soft pink and blue hues and the toenail-shaped moon in the sunset sky. I looked up at Doi Suthep, whose mountain peaks captivated my attention and gave me comfort when I landed here over two months ago. Two months. Time flies, truly. At that moment I realized how much I'm going to miss it here in Chiang Mai. I also took into account my many moments of longing for the comforts of home. But that's how desire always is, isn't it? Wanting what you can't have and subsequently coming to terms with not being so sure about wanting it in the first place when it's actually within reach. Fickle and whimsical, desire is. 

Over four months ago when I left the States, I was hungry to challenge myself and embrace a completely different lifestyle. When I actually started to settle into that different lifestyle, which included many hours of spending time alone, I began to want my old life where I was surrounded by familiarity and my loved ones. Classic--when I had to face my own self-imposed discomfort and fear, I chose to cling to my past and what I held dear. So began the battle between my past and present states of being, which still occurs periodically.

The tricky part is that I'm aware of what's going on mentally and emotionally with this whole desire thing, but I cannot control it. To make matters worse, I sometimes harp on myself for struggling with longing for what I can't have and not embracing the present moment. But the lesson is there, and in that lesson is power. I am present in that I can actually recognize that desire is eternal, showing up in its many forms. I am present in that I can distinguish when my mind is consumed with memories of the past and then give myself the choice to suffer at the expense of that, or make the effort to devote myself to anything that will help me become immersed in the essence of wherever I am. More often than not, sensual pleasure derived from conscious eating, fresh air and unparalleled scenic beauty have been my anchors in helping me stay present. Of course, those moments are fleeting--so it goes. 

I've spent months fondly thinking about being in a place far from where I am. Now I've found a groove here in Thailand, being a bit more comfortable with so much time alone, and now I'm going to have to uproot myself again. Granted, I will be headed for familiar ground--but I'm in for reverse culture shock, bills, finding work, and lots of other circumstances unbeknownst to me. In short, a potential breeding ground for a whole lot of discomfort. If I've learned anything from this entire journey, it is that everything will turn out all right as long as I keep my equanimity.

The Observer

The river glitters
Like hundreds of shining diamonds.
The sun is kind.
Birds dart about overhead
And leave as quickly as they came.

I have come here to be soothed
By the simplicity of nature,
Apart from the hustle of the city.
Tucked away in a shady 
Outdoor seating area.
I drink my latte slowly,
As I am accustomed to the opposite.

There is nothing to do,
Nothing to accomplish,
Nowhere to be.
I am left with the contents of my mind.
Distraction. Desire. Expectation.
The three old hags that never seem
To rest in their art of seducing the ego.

Shift gears and turn inward. Ask the questions. 
Reflect.
Turn the game around. 
I am my thoughts.

I am, I am, I am.

Taking Fear to Lunch

Here is what that looks like:

-Actually eating alone in a restaurant that doesn't have WiFi, and therefore nothing to distract me from my boredom, a constant babble of thoughts and subsequent loneliness; I've also found that the distraction of anything external has an extremely short shelf life. Soon enough, I'm back at square one, dealing with what I was unsuccessfully trying to distract myself from in the first place.

-Realizing that I don't know it all, therefore making my bruised ego get fired up and then submit.

-Making new acquaintances when I could just as easily be isolated and bog myself down with judgment.

-Doing something or going someplace new, which stirs up the pot of normality and routine that the mind gets comfortable with very quickly; creating new pathways for the brain.

-Letting go of future plans that I treat as my life raft; bypassing the present is not where it's at.

-Growing accustomed to the darkness that seems oppressive right when I turn off my bedside lamp to go to sleep; all of distractions stop and I'm left with myself and that sinking feeling in my heart and stomach that tends to happen; in short, learning how to self-soothe, just as I did when I was an infant.

-Actually exposing my fear to anyone reading this, which allows me to further release my grip on it and provide a basis for people to relate and find solace where they would normally feel anything but that when confronting these beasts.

Good luck, friends.

Intention

This word will forever remind me of The Pretenders song, "Brass in Pocket". I began listening to this song in junior high school, upon the recommendation from my very hip algebra teacher. The lyrics read, "I am gonna use it...intention, I feel inventive. Gonna make you, make you, make you notice." 

From a more superficial perspective, this is a song about getting attention and validation from the world. Going a little bit deeper, it's about embracing one's originality and special gift that one has to offer the world, and it all starts with this intention. The Sanskrit word for this is sankalpa, or a desire born of the heart, existing in harmony with our real Self. Another translation is "the one that must be followed without exception above all else". Today I've been thinking back on my emotionally supercharged time in Krabi, where my thoughts were running amok and all that seemed tangible was the devotion to my intention of getting out and envisioning happier times ahead. During that time, I rededicated myself to a practice of stream of consciousness journaling and also writing down my intentions for how I wanted to see my future unfold as a thriving being. 

Looking back now, I've realized that every intention I created and held on to during that time has already come to pass: I've come to Chiang Mai and I'm happily settled in, I made a visit to Pai to see what the buzz was about, I've just come back from an eye-opening adventure in Laos, in a mere 28 days I will be heading home to be reunited with my family for the holidays, and then I'll resume life in beautiful Portland as a yoga instructor and spend some long overdue time with my Love, dear friends and fellow yoga instructors. What a fruitful, amazing existence! How could I ever have mistrust in the workings of my life, when a big part of it is fully in my hands and mind (directed by Divine guidance)? 

Perhaps another interpretation of the aforementioned song lyrics is that the "I" who is speaking is the One who is watching my life, thoughts and dreams. The One who reports back with the word change when I'm at a loss, confused and caught up with the drama. The One who knows what's best. The One who brings my attention to the intention in the first place. The One who makes me, makes me, makes me notice where I am lacking and where I can make my life more full and vibrant as a consequence. 

Chrissy Hynde