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

Laos

I'm still digesting all of the beauty and color of this place. I feel privileged to have spent time with a novice monk, learning about his life and leaving with his sincere blessing to have a happy, lucky existence and safe travels. I'm thankful to have made friends who I can visit one day when I see Great Britain. People whose presence I could just fall into and rest in without reservation--sharing belly laughs, stories, and commonality.

The slow boat ride down from upper Laos to Luang Prabang was one of the more reflective times where solitude seemed natural. I didn't care to speak as I kept my eyes glued to the comfort of the unspoiled mountainscape and the currents of the Mekong river. The boat moved with the river's flow, which provided me with even more stillness and stability.The riverfolk went about their daily business and life seemed simple and self-sustained in their huts perched on the mountains along the banks. The locals and their water buffalo seemed to effortlessly navigate their way through the thick jungle and limestone rock formations, down the steep, lush hills of their residences. Children as young as three years, clad in mismatched colorful t-shirts and shorts, already seemed to have the operation of the skinny long boats down--it was in their bones and blood.

The smell of this country is intoxicating--rich, smoky burning wood, the essence of trees, and the aroma of freshly charred meats, herbs and curries. Color is an integral part of the streets, providing a veritable feast for the eyes: shiny jewelry, bright handmade tribal textiles, local golden Buddhist art, fruit packed into plastic cups ready to be made into a smoothie of any combination. A land where French food and pastry are done right, thanks to colonialism. A land where you can make friends on the street, where kindness is godliness. A land where poverty is overshadowed by simplicity, service and charm. This is another country where I've left a piece of my heart, and I will be forever longing to come back.

A word about pain

It is your teacher. You are meant to experience equal potential for pain and joy in this lifetime as a human being. So use your pain to inspire you to practice whatever it is that allows you to put things into perspective and feel whole and balanced again--yoga, cooking, running, writing, meditation--whatever floats your boat and gets you back to an equanimous state. Meet yourself in the middle and stop giving yourself such a hard time about life's details and your subsequent feelings because of them. If for some reason you lose your balance and you find yourself ignoring that thing that makes you feel whole, just come on back and resume your practice. The door is always open, and no one is there giving you a hard time for being away except yourself. 

Instead of letting your pain run your show and being a victim of your own self-imposed suffering, remember that you run things. You're in charge of your reactions to life's happenings and you're also in control of changing your energy in the present moment. So instead of wallowing in sadness, anger, judgment, mistrust, etc--flip the switch and do something different, something that lifts you up instead of thinking that drags you down.

If all else fails, just tell yourself that it's all perfect and trust that you're exactly where you are, feeling exactly what you're supposed to be feeling for a reason that will reveal itself later. Everything always falls into place. 

The heart of the matter

The One Who is at Play Everywhere said,

There is a place in the heart where everything meets.
Go there if you want to find me.
Mind, senses, soul, eternity, all are there.
Are you there?

Enter the bowl of vastness that is the heart.
Give yourself to it with total abandon.

Quiet ecstasy is there -
and a steady, regal sense of resting in a perfect spot.

Once you know the way 
the nature of attention will call you 
to return, again and again,
and be saturated with knowing, 
“I belong here, I am at home here.”

Answer that call.

--The Bhairava Tantra (Radiance Sutras)

The heart space. Anahata--the unstruck sound, the bridge between heaven and earth. Most religious and spiritual traditions point to the heart as the boundless source of unconditional love and thus, a lasting connection with all that is. It is the house of the Divine--the place where you can access everything that you seek. Sounds all warm and fuzzy, but this journey to this place, as you know, is covered by every layer of suffering and negativity imaginable. It's easy for us to love things, ideas, and people outside of ourselves. If you asked yourself what you love in this world, your first answer probably won't be yourself (unless it is, then I admire you for your solid connection). All of us are longing to be home in our hearts, in a big way. It's in our makeup as souls attached to bodies. Our bodies, our minds and our human experience are tools to help us get back home where we are safe and comforted. It's not to say that loving outside of ourselves doesn't feel wonderful--because it does, and is part of our experience. The trouble is that it doesn't last, and then we get attached and keep seeking that transient feeling everywhere and in everything. Unfulfilled. So begins an ugly cycle of disappointment if one is not aware of this misleading disconnect.

The beautiful thing is that you can go home whenever you want, and you know how to get there. Every experience of attachment, grief, heartbreak, shame, anger, fear--you name it--is the starting point to move back to center. All it takes is your own will and time to practice even  just the simple act of watching your breath move for a minute, unrestricted--inhale and exhale, and the union that rests between. 

In the words of the Bhairava Tantra, "Breath flows in and out spontaneously of its own will, thus all breathing beings continually worship the goddess. Be conscious of this unconscious prayer, for she is the most holy place of pilgrimage." 

Whatever it takes for you to get there, do it! Keep it simple. Do it twenty four hours a day, every day, and something will change, I promise. We're in this together.

River

The river has many attitudes--
Ripples, currents, swirls of subcurrents.
When the gaze darts around,
It appears that the water flows in 
Many directions.
But when the gaze relaxes,
Everything is taken into account.
One realizes that the river flows
Strongly in one direction as
Light and dark reflections play 
On the surface.
Boats and vegetation skim across it too.
But the true direction
Underneath the surface never changes.
Permanence and impermanence 
At its finest.

So why are we an exception,
Turning a blind eye to these truths?
It appears that our agony will last forever
And our ecstasy will not last long enough--
Caught up in the subcurrents, ripples and swirls.
Reactionary. Sensitive to all that moves.

We have many attitudes--
But when our gaze relaxes,
Everything is taken into account.
Permanence and impermanence 
At its finest.

Facing East

The steadfast golden orb's light

Kisses the leaves of

Gracious trees and

Pierces through the dewy fog that

Lay sleepy over the lush mountainscape.

A child dressed in his true blue polo and 

Track pants holds onto his mother's waist

As they journey to school.

A wild dog lies dead in the road,

Neck cranked badly to one side.

The Sun has come into its true power.

Now--everything is illuminated,

Brought to its full potential.

A young Thai man dressed in green camouflage

Stands with quiet confidence on the back of a

Song-tao, matte black boots laced up tight,

Close-fitting black beret 

Meaningfully tipped to one side.

Piles of red rambutan and minty green cabbage

Characterize the scene of an early 

Streetside market.

Elders gather around in front of the chedi to

Make their morning offerings of 

Fire, water, flowers and incense.

Burmese women wear iridescent yellow clay

In stripes, squares and dots on their faces

So that they might not bake brown in the 

Approaching afternoon heat.

The river flows through all of it, undisturbed.

Abhyasa Vairagya

Hundreds of tiny ripples replace each other in a small koi pond, and droplets of water bounce back skyward. The sound of rain is soothing, but not enough to smooth the contents my mind that have been stewing for some time now. My fear of the unknown has resurfaced and is put to the test once again in this new bubble of an environment that I'm in. And that is exactly what I came here to do: to go abroad, outside of my comfort zone and test everything that I've learned about myself in the past three years. I swear every day it's a fight inside of my mind and this constant shifting back and forth between present and future is exhausting. One moment, I'm totally fine and really here in my environment, the next I'm tripping about what's going to happen when I get home. Where is my life going? Where is my career going? Where is my relationship going? My patience is being tested all the time, as I'm used to acting on impulse in hopes of instant gratification. It's like I'm forgetting what I've learned about everything just taking care of itself. 

I'm essentially creating the thought construct of having control so that I can relax and feel better about the future. But it's that exact concept of control that creates attachment, and ultimately this attachment leads me to feel  that I have something to lose. So why am I doing this to myself? I guess I have to pin it to the Universe repeatedly trying to teach me the same lesson every moment of my days here in Thailand--a reinforcement of eternal Truth, as it were. How many times do I have to have the same conversation between these two sides of myself? Why do I fight and create this conflict when I can just as easily give all of this bullshit worrying over to God? Why do I doubt, when I have proven to myself that there is absolutely no reason to? 

I can say that what will get me through right now is a commitment to faith in the fact that I have never been led astray, and that all of these conversations and happenings indeed have a deeper purpose in the shaping of my life's course. Ultimately, what will emerge from this faith is an unshakable Knowingness that will get me through anything. This is one instance of the abhyasa (consistent, unbroken practice) vairagya (non-attachment) that bro-sage Patanjali speaks of--two key aspects of leading a life that oozes tranquility. In other words, my everyday practice stands in not mistaking my fears, doubts, and judgments for who I really am (unlimited, Light, spacious, joyous)--and that is where I will look struggle in the face and triumph.

The way home

The word inspired defined: of extraordinary quality--as if arising from some external creative impulse. 

Krishna Das' autobiographical film One Track Heart was finally released on iTunes, and I couldn't wait to watch. It's amazing to witness his incredible journey and to be able to relate with his struggle with attachment and desire on this path to Self. 

I first heard Krishna Das' uplifting Hare Krishna in the very first formal yoga class that I took in college. I didn't know his name at the time, but I knew for sure that his voice was distinct with the characteristics of love and longing for the Divine--because I felt exactly that in my own heart. In an environment where I was learning new ways to move and experience my physical body, I was able to do so with a lightness because of how this man sang. I looked forward to hearing his voice in every class that I took, and most of the time I did get to hear it because my teacher had a great appreciation for his music as well. 

Now, I have watched the previews for this flick over and over and knew a little bit about Krishna Das and his awesome relationship with his teacher, but watching it all play out literally blew me away. My heart broke with him as he told of his endless struggle with his own stuff that held him back from living a life full of peace. His dedication to his practice with the guidance and faith in his teacher--even though many times his faith wavered--was so right on, because the road to peace isn't always an easy one. But with the blessing of the Divine manifesting itself as the many teachers that I encounter all the time, there is no doubt that I am always headed in the right direction. At the very least, it's a comfort when I actually remember that I'm always right where I'm supposed to be, thinking and feeling everything that I'm supposed to--otherwise I'd be doing something else. 

I'm inspired by his faith being absolutely restored when the time presented itself--he literally couldn't look back and live in despair as he was before. It just wasn't an option. He was shown truth and believed it with every cell in his body, and carries on now living in all of that love. The darkness that he held onto for so long was dispelled and all attachment fell away, so he could finally live as he always wanted to--in absolute peace that results from understanding that he was not broken or lacking in any respect. 

Reminders on this path are everywhere, like carefully placed breadcrumbs, so we can always find the way back home.

It's Perfect

It really is. There is always inspiration to be found in moments where I feel like I'm lacking faith. There is always something to remind me that I have no reason to doubt how this life plan is all playing out. And the only reason why I oscillate between having faith and lacking faith in this concept is simply that I am working through my karma from this life and lives past. For every time that I felt I was small and worthless, that created a groove in my mind for those kind of gnarly, Self-destructive seeds to be planted. Now, in this incarnation, it is my mission to create new grooves in my mind, tilling the figurative soil with nourishing practices so that it becomes fertile ground for the shiny seeds of truth to be placed in. It's about burning away the gnarly, Self-destructive seeds with the tapas of devoted practice and turning old, stale ideas about myself into ash that will promptly exit my system, as they are of no use any longer. 

Twenty-four hours a day, my job is to replace old concepts with bright, new concepts that enhance my own worth and purpose in this world through practices that make me feel fearless, light and joyful. These practices can be as simple as reading inspiring poetry, going for a walk, eating at two new restaurants in one day, and so on. Recognizing and breaking patterns that do not serve my happiness. Truly, it is going to take all of the ups and downs that it needs to take for me to really assimilate that I am whole, and not alone in all of this. That no matter what happens, I'm going to be safe, loved and secure, through and through. 

There is too much love in this world to convince me that the latter isn't true.

Human

Elizabeth Gilbert once said:

 If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.

Some serious mental and emotional discomfort has been building up in my system for the past few days. I wasn't able to put a label on exactly what triggered it or what it was, but it literally felt like a storm was coming--the warning signs of thunder and lightning were ringing clear. My heart space has been cloudy, and my jawline and brow have grown tense with the buildup of experiencing this truth-revealing storm, which came to a head tonight.

I was having a conversation with a dear friend from home, who is my mirror in every way. I found myself telling him that I felt stuck. What the hell? How could I be so blind? I have had the privilege to travel to this part of the world and have seen things I never would've dreamed of seeing--and here I am pouting about feeling stuck? Here's the thing: I've been in a pattern of staying extremely close to everyone at home with the bountiful wifi connections over here, which has been a blessing and bane. A blessing to stay connected, a bane for the subsequent feelings of longing for the familiar which I was dying to get away from three months ago. It goes to show that no matter where I go, there I am--a truth that speaks volumes. A truth that I've heard over and over again for many years, but now I'm finally assimilating it. In short, my baggage goes where ever I go, and I ultimately decide when to take inventory of the heavy shit I don't need to take back home with me.

So here's the deal--I have nine weeks left here in Thailand (yes I've been counting). I have to make the most of it and take risks. Try new restaurants instead of habitually sticking to the same ones, for fear of disappointment. Get out of the city center and into the country, or across the river at the very least and explore more of Chiang Mai province. Not getting stuck (there's that word again) on the date that I'm flying back home and getting my head out of the future and into the now. Yes, I had a moment where I wasn't seeing clearly how blessed I am to have gotten here. However, I didn't spend a ton of time wallowing around in that self-loathing that comes with the attachment of facing something difficult about who I am, which I was famous for in my past. There, art thou happy.

Moving forward, then, with all that I know.

Things that come up

I hear the sound of a train in the distance, and instantly I'm taken back to days in Portland where I could hear the train from my bedroom all the time. In savasana today at the end of my practice, I focused on the movement of my breath and then--as is liable to happen--my focus softened and shifted. An image of an eye appeared in the dark space in front of my forehead, known in yoga as chidda kasha (chit--mind and its impressions; akasha--space). All of a sudden I am flooded with images from my old neighborhood--all of the coffee shops, restaurants and stores I frequented. All of these images have the common theme of instant gratification and sensual pleasure running through them. Sensual pleasure dwells in the same space as emotional fluctuations and creativity in the psychic body, in the second chakra specifically. 

The body holds onto the experiences of the past and the body tells the story. My yoga practices of late have had a particular anatomical focus--today the focus was on the side body as a whole unit. So I really got into stretching out my ribs, my IT bands, my shoulders and neck and felt really light afterwards as a consequence, simply because attention, breath and space were mindfully placed there. The intention behind every one of my practices is to heal and alleviate the chronic mental, physical and emotional tension I hold onto which keeps me from being my real Self. The images of my past rushing before my closed eyes is proof of what I have released in practice and therefore what I need to pay attention to, knowing that the past always has a way of reappearing again and again in different ways if I don't learn from it.

Last night I had a moment of fearfulness before I thought about turning off the lights to go to sleep. I felt in that moment how seemingly alone I was in the dark in my big bed. I couldn't find comfort or ease and I knew that I would probably have to cry to release that pent up tension building rapidly in my mind and heart. I didn't want to do that, even though I know the value of letting tears flow. I reached out to a dear friend instead, even though I knew that there was nothing he could do to comfort me. I just needed someone to listen to what I was feeling, and the moment I communicated it I instantly felt better. Either way, the communication occurred with the Divine, and I was heard and comforted.

Little reminders that I'm on the right track and that my practice is working are everywhere. I reflect back on my life thus far and realize that every desire that I've had has either been fulfilled or on its way to becoming fulfilled--and that's an amazing thing. I'm becoming less and less worried about how my future is playing out. I'm growing steadier in the midst of change and potential obstacles, knowing that all I have to do in those challenging moments is just to soften my body and pause the tape loop of ego-driven internal dialogue that insists that I'm going to fuck up and fail. I remind myself that I have a hand in this life, but ultimately it is steered by Divine guidance--and for the acceptance of that fact, I am grateful. 

 

Hip opening

This morning I woke up around 8:30am, having approximately ten hours of sleep. My room faces west, so it remains quite dark all day long, save the small window. I didn't want to get out of bed. Lethargic. Heavy. The only thing that motivated me at all was hunger for a decent breakfast. I realized that this lethargy feels the same, no matter where I am in the world. I reflected back on mornings in Portland where I experienced the same feelings in my body and mind upon waking and not wanting to move--the contemplation of staying in bed for most of the day. I very well could have this morning, given that I don't have any agenda to adhere to. However, I told myself that I didn't come all of this way to lay in bed all day--there's always something to do. I told myself that I needed to shower and eat to change my energy immediately, and so I did. 

After an hour, I was out the door and on the way to breakfast, which there was a bit of a wait for. No matter-- the place was slammed and they were short staffed. I decided to be patient and wait for the creamy avocado omelette and bold, fresh coffee that was to come. After feeding myself, I strolled over to the Mojito Garden for a massage by one of the tiniest, sweetest, strongest Thai ladies I've ever met--again, in an effort to find energetic equanimity. The intention for healing was made, and I emerged afterward on my massage cloud ready for the tiny pink cup and saucer filled with warm ginger tea. 

I came back to the guesthouse and decided to not watch movies on my computer, but instead opened up a Yogaglo account and took my first virtual class with goddess Seane Corn. The class was focused on hip opening, which is something that I can always use to process all the tension that has been stored there for as long as I can remember. I haven't been doing much asana since I left Portland three months ago, and truth be told, my body feels less tense because of it. Weird, eh? Just getting into poses like side angle was a real eye-opener for me--I even got into the elusive bind that has been out of reach for awhile due to tight hips and shoulders. For a moment, I felt invincible. 

When you travel (internally or externally), you have to get used to different ways of physically doing things, seeing and thinking. Something as simple as having to squat to go pee serves to change up the mind's activity and create a new pathway for thinking. A new groove in my mind creates an opportunity to store love-affirming Truth about who I am. More room is made for the possibility of holding less tension in my body and mind, and that is directly proportional to my sense of purpose and happiness in this world. Interesting stuff. 

After seven years of practicing yoga, I have learned that practicing and not practicing asana have equal amounts of power and potency. Sometimes, the asana is necessary to make a change on the physical and energetic level. Sometimes, I need a massage to move the energy around and remind myself of my radiance. Sometimes, it's as simple as feeling the weight of an illusion about myself disappear completely. That is why I continue to practice this all-encompassing yoga for the rest of my days, everywhere that I am.

Mae Sai

Men walking on power lines
like tight ropes.
Wide brown river flowing fast,
Misty mountains overlapping
against a pure blue sky.
White temple, proper 
dwellings and quaint shacks.
Two motos housed
under a dark chocolate 
teak wood gazebo in the most
perfect way.
Relief and congregation 
found at a 7-11 rest stop.
Pigs communicate with foamy mouths,
stuffed in tiny sections of a steel cage on
the back of a provincial truck.
L O V E tattooed on the fingers of
a young man smiling on the back
of a moto caked with rusty red earth.
Tropical flowers in shades of
pink, orange, red and yellow brighten up
an otherwise monochromatic looking

Thailand/Myanmar border

stretch of cement.
The majesty of thousands of trees
draws my gaze consistently.

Episodes of perfect kindness

The golden sun is going down on another day here in Chiang Mai, the land of kindness. I realize that Thailand as a whole is known as the "land of smiles". However, I have not witnessed as many outward, generous expressions of kindness as I have in this city. I went to the dentist today to have the first teeth cleaning that I've had in an awfully long time, and naturally I was white knuckling the chair and squirming because my teeth have become very sensitive of late. The sweet woman dentist was so attentive and even empathized with me about her own sensitive teeth as she held my forearm in a gesture of comfort while turning the teeth cleaner down to the lowest speed. Later on, I went back to the same dentist office to bring in the other portion of my payment. I spoke with a different Thai woman at reception, whose English was a bit limited, but she generally understood what I said when I broke it down. She began to tell me a bit about herself and brought up wanting to learn English, but has no time since she works every day. She had also mentioned that her sister was a Catholic nun and that she goes to visit her at the convent often. I stayed for a few more minutes, both of us laughing as we tried to understand each other. I went to open the door to leave and she says God bless you with a huge smile on her face--I couldn't help but return the sentiment, since she was such a sweetheart and did so well with her English conversation. 

Next, I went to AUM, my beloved vegetarian restaurant, and had the nourishing, creamy avocado maki with the bright carrot, orange and ginger juice. I was craving something a bit sweet after, so I stopped into a nondescript cafe on my stroll home. I crossed the threshold and I greeted the proprietress with the customary "Sawatdee ka" and she answered me immediately in English with a warm "Hello. How are you?". This woman exuded non judgment, warmth, kindness and confidence in herself and her establishment and made me feel right at home. She went on about how much she loved the embroidered cotton tunic that I was wearing, because it looked so lightweight and the blue color matched me. Who doesn't like getting complimented upon meeting someone the first time? She guided me over to the case to see what kind of sweet I would like, and I chose the perfect, delectable almond brownie. I took my cute, baby pink cushioned seat and surveyed the scene, which slightly resembled a British tea house that I used to frequent in San Francisco. The late afternoon light filled the entire place, brightening up even the dark cherry wood of the tables and chairs. It matched the amount of warmth that I was receiving from Yupa, the proprietress. I stayed only for a short time, but the place made such a positive impression on me--I'll definitely be back.

I cannot help but feel so incredibly blessed to be here, having these magical interactions with seemingly complete strangers, which convinces me evermore that there is so much good left in this world. God bless me, indeed.

Yupa <3

A room with a view

I've been residing in Chiang Mai for just over a week now, and decided it was time to move into a new accommodation. I'm now in a guesthouse owned by the sweetest Aussie man and Thai woman, and both of them are making me feel very at ease here--resourceful folks that they are. Let's just say that "tea and a bickie" is my daily afternoon ritual with these lovelies. I'm paying an all-inclusive monthly rate (utilities, A/C, hot water, TV, comfy bed), which is easy on the purse strings. The settings are comfortable, no doubt. I'm on the third floor with a small balcony that has a view of a golden temple complex surrounded by orchid trees and behind it, a view of the lush mountain Doi Suthep. Good stuff. I'm also just about a five minute walk from my favorite place to eat breakfast.

Tonight I ventured out for a more thorough exploration of the Sunday market just a short distance away from the guesthouse. So much color and sparkle, so many knick-knacks and potential gifts, so many tourists walking aimlessly about in every direction, and beautiful Thai folk music filled the space between. On the way back, a cool, soft, comforting breeze was in the air as day quickly crept into night. It was truly a perfect moment in time, after feeding myself a very Japanese meal of gyoza and sushi--pure satisfaction. As excited as I am to know that I'll be returning to the States come November, I was totally enveloped in this entire market experience and not wanting to be anywhere except exactly where I was. It's a good feeling to embrace the experience of being present and yet welcoming the passage of time that is married to change. Again, no state of mind or state of being lasts forever--everything is constantly evolving in its own perfect way. The secret to riding these waves of change smoothly is to remain neutral, present and solidly connected to the part of myself that is changeless, nameless, formless, and timeless. The Self that knows no bounds and is always full, never lacking in any respect.

Life is good, very good indeed.

It's coming down...

The rain, that is. It's literally drowning out the sound of Scissor Sisters playing on my laptop, which I've now opted to turn off to appreciate this impressive sound pounding on the roof of my bungalow. The power behind the sound of hard rain is purely intoxicating and commands attention from everyone, as they stop their conversations and whatever else to observe this phenomenon. Rain--a change in perspective that reminds myself and everyone else that the lesser sounds of egotistical thought that parades around our heads needs to be hushed into stillness every once in awhile. The reminder to just STOP, cut the bullshit incessant drama and really listen to what's important, even if it's only for a minute. 

I'm finally in the place that I've wanted to visit for so long, and I'm no doubt witnessing beautiful people and things. However, my mind quite often gets pulled into that tape loop of future talk, which ultimately leads to me worrying about how my future is going to play out--wanting to control everything. The same worries that I had before I left the States around money, work and relationships have been swirling about my head periodically this entire week. I guess they will always potentially be there in some way, shape or form--but I can change my relationship to this mind pollution. There is equal potential to hold fast or let go of this stuff and letting go always feels better when I'm able. It has to be a matter of me knowing that I can let go, reminding myself of all of the evidence I have that stacks up on the side of joy, love and the Universe taking care of everything that could ever cause angst and pain in my mind. This is the practice I must commit to until a new practice is handed to me. It's always good to remember that nothing lasts forever--even this rain, which has now quieted down to a gentle pitter-patter. Intensity, followed by calm and spaciousness--you cannot have one without the other. Keepin' sunshine on my brain in the meantime.

Getting Acquainted

Last night I went out with the hip young Thai owner of the bungalow complex I'm staying at, along with a handful of his friends who bussed it in from a province four hours away. We all clicked super quickly and just naturally dove into conversation about where we were from and what we were planning to do with our time in Thailand. One of the guys--a fellow Portlander (go figure), said that I had no idea what I was getting myself into by going out with this group. In short, I did not anticipate getting home at 2:30am, my buzz from two Leos having long worn away but the high of dancing still coursing through my veins. Man, those guys can party.

Today was very full, as much as I tried to dub this a "chill out" day. Ventured out around noon to get my hair done--which included the most wonderful, tingly, relaxing scalp massage and a moisturizing mask for my dry hair. After my long stay in the salon, I sought out a song-tao to take me to a restaurant that had been recommended to me by a friend from Portland. After 20 minutes of walking around an amazing outdoor market square trying to figure out where I was, I stumbled upon AUM Vegetarian Restaurant. Kinda one of those hole in the wall places you'd definitely walk past easily on the outside. But once you witness the inner oasis of Thai wood, shelves upon shelves of books for sale, and an upstairs bungalow where you can sit upon a cute little cushion to eat your meal or sip on your freshly pressed juice--you automatically know you're in the right place. I was told that the North is famous for kao soi, a curried noodle dish which I promptly ordered for about $2.25. I'm not kidding when I say that I was utterly absorbed in the absolute goodness of this gem: crunchy fried noodles sprinkled with green onion on top, a rich, creamy red coconut curry base filled with potatoes, oyster mushrooms, marinated fried tofu and egg noodle. Sounds simple, but the flavors were out of this world--nothing needed to be added to it. I definitely could eat there every day, considering that the food is outstanding, simple, and coming from a staff who loves every customer coming into the establishment to be nourished. Indeed, I emerged from this raan aah-haan completely fed.

I couldn't seem to find a song-tao that could take me back to my dwelling, so I decided to take the 25 minute stroll home--which turned out to be so much more entertaining! You can get home faster by song-tao, but the ones up here are far more covered, so the whole "checking out the scenery" thing is out of the question. Walking allowed me to take it all of Old Town in with my eyes, my lens, and my heart. The light is back in my eyes again. I am in love.

A New Beginning

Every moment serves as a new beginning, but sometimes it takes the actual uprooting of oneself to really feel that bright and shiny newness that comes with unfamiliar, yet welcoming surroundings. I jetted over to Chiang Mai today and left Krabi Town--a change that is definitely for the better. I could tell immediately as the plane descended into Chiang Mai that I was in love--there are trees and mountains everywhere, an atmosphere where I feel at ease always. I literally could not control the smiles that sprung up randomly on my face. Good vibes, indeed. I received a mini tour of Old Town when I wasn't prepared to give the address of my bungalow to the driver. So good--fountains, temples, golden buddha statues, ancient architecture, green, lush landscape. And I traveled through heaven to get there. So here it is--the moment I've been waiting for. I shall see what's in store.

It's all right here

It's interesting to watch myself on the precipice of great change. I have one week until I become my jet-setting self once again. Flying to a city full of possibility and leaving a city where I feel physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually stifled. Right now, it's really about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Continuing to breathe through challenging moments when all I want to do is escape, knowing that there is a framework behind all of this. These difficult moments have made me aware of what I think I'm lacking, and what I need to practice more of as a consequence. Adversity builds character, but reminding myself that I don't lack anything and that I have everything I need has proven to be a more powerful statement. 

Coming here was part of my path, and I have been experiencing what it feels like to travel alone. Up until one month ago, I had been travelling with friends and shared beautiful experiences with them. I've always been one to be happy when I'm connecting authentically with others. Solitude has never really been the name of my game. The bizarre thing is that even when I was with friends (and this has always been the case), I found myself drifting off into my own world, separating myself and having my own experience. Introverted. And it seems that all of my life I have been craving the experience of travelling alone--I never really saw myself doing this with anyone else in my vision. I always envied people who had these amazing, life-altering experiences on their own, standing firmly in who they really are, just growing and living to the fullest in a beautiful, foreign land. Now I have the honor and privilege of having this opportunity, hanging out with myself day after day for the last month. The only connection I have is with my little kids at school and some interaction with the Thai teachers for a few short hours. Otherwise, I am on my own with my own thoughts, as there isn't very much to do to distract myself in this small, simple town. 

The self-indulgence of my ego only goes so far, as it reinforces the idea that I am missing out and I am disconnected. I know from practical experience that true contentment comes from connecting (through writing or meditation) with the part of myself that is eternal--the part of myself that lacks nothing. The part of myself that needs no connection or attention from outside sources. The part of myself that doesn't need to run away, because it's all right here. How many times do I have to prove to myself that I am enough? These are the lessons, right here, right now. This is why I am here, to do this work and figure it out. Planting the seeds and carving out time (which I have a lot of) to realize that I am Love and that I am missing nothing. It's all right here.

Momentum

This morning I woke up and felt a momentum behind everything that's about to unfold. Realizing that my time here in Krabi is limited and is going to fly by, just as I've desired. Anything to get me to my destination more quickly. Time is an illusion.  Attachment can be my motivation or imprisonment. Staying with the flow of momentum literally keeps me in the present moment--the only thing that is real. Momentum vibrates in every cell of my body, encouraging me to move forward. There is no resistance in momentum, only ease. So here again, I have a choice of where to put my energy. Do I put my energy into the stress and worry that comes with attachment, or do I go with the faith that is married to momentum? I think I'll go with the latter today, because there is no doubt in my mind, body and heart that it feels better. And I will never deny that which feels better.