I love coffee shops and everything about them. Everything.
I love fresh coffee with coconut milk and agave in the morning...in a small mason jar.
I love listening to a family of 6 or 7...of grackles...bickering in a palm tree in the morning down by the river.
I love a good book that drifts along beside you like a piece of trusty driftwood in the open ocean as you go about your day.
I love that if I start the next line with a word other than 'love' that your mind will allow it to happen although the "poetic flow" of this thing so far tends to the adherence of a owning a trend.
I love language as a definition, and how powerful communication, not only could still be, but also would potentially, exponentially flourish, if we abandoned our verbal attempts altogether.
that my mind, if I let it, could soar to the limits of reality and forever become one with the Universe. But I am still to scared.
that my best friends whom are sprinkled across the globe would drop at any moment the so-called necessary tasks of their day if I were to call upon the graces of their presence for a better world and life.
I love colors and what they represent to me.
I love women.
I love people.
I love really FEELING nature somehow, as if I'm outside (because hopefully I am)....like the wind beckoning my hair follicles as it gives my skin a lap dance, the change of temperature, or rain, the humidity. Smelling nature somehow....the rain, an open fire, the neighbor's pipe, even the changing of the wind....which inherently means dog poop, these days.
I love that first enthralled and surprised gasp each year when you first notice you're getting a tan.
I love...smoothies from Smoothie King. And the colors of their staffs' shirts.
I love people-watching in busy places, being a fly on the wall and witnessing life happen in rapid-fire mode.
I love coffee shops and the rightfully-expected, and delivered, smell of the place...no matter what it's name or who its owner...that brings my senses to life, guaranteeing no less than the essence of a grin, or otherwise uplifted spirit. guaranteed.
I love unexpectedly getting a face massage...from myself...and then the reassurance afterwards that no one else witnessed it.
I love the sharing of stories and ideas.
I love drum circles and their loyal and wonderful dancers.
I love an unexpected compliment on something you've been mentally striving for, yet didn't THINK, at least, that you were actually working toward it yet...then realizing that you're one step closer to being there and that the hard part is over cuz I you guess someone was kind enough to take the first step for you! Or maybe it really was you but hell, you don't remember it, or maybe you're just too humble to notice or admit it, anyway, but what's it matter anyways because you just got a COMPLIMENT! (not that you expect them to be given you)
I love cutting and moving and pouring and sprinkling and searching and opening and closing and washing and re-using....things..in the kitchen and then somehow later realizing the works of a masterpiece just happened in your kitchen...by your own hands. Bliss.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The tail end in the shell of a nut
LMAO! Too funny! I woulda whooped them all at this...challenge.....of eating my favorite fruit in the world...bahaha. AND the locals too! Good stuff. Yeh, I am going through withdrawals. I begin my days here in San Diego with mild convulsions which intensify throughout the day and occasionally cause me to twitch violently when something I see hear or smell triggers my senses and reminds me of my durian. Other than that, life is grand though. Thanks so much for the wonderful reference you left. You guys are amazing and will always have a warm soft cozy special place in my heart. I had a blast with you guys and wish I could've stayed forever! :) Singapore is def a place rampant with shopping and eating and spending money, as was mentioned to me by previous visitors to the place; however, being on a budget as I was, I successfully managed to have a good time and see lots of things and hardly spend a dime! (That must be a strictly American phrase, for I fear most people from other countries wouldn't understand. Are there dimes in Canada?...I will know soon but not until then...) The Ku de Ta Bar on the top of the Marina Bay Sands (Google image that..MBS...omg incredible view at night!) I did spend money there ..on a beer at that...no wait.. 2 beers! and it was hella expensive but very worth it. Walked around city hall MRT station as a good majority of the downtown sites can be seen from the Esplanade there. good stuff as well. Little india was cool. good food. mustafa plaza...was nuts. 3 buildings of stories and stories of...well, EVERYTHING you can think of. food, books, clothes, pencil sharpeners, appliances..fresh fish...etc. quite a sight. orchard road was lined with mall after mall after mall...begging for what little cash I had on me, and the shops were all thoughtfully adorned, but even that wasn't enough to sucker me into their consumerism trap! muahaha. i may or may not have purchased a carrot, apple, orange juice, though. :) oh btw, my moles officially fell off yesterday after I had them removed with Chinese herbs!! :O the wart on my knee is still working its way off but according to the chinese lady it still technically has 3 more days til the process is officially complete. I had ginger the other day though (supposedly the herbs clash with ginger?) in a drink and i am still here...and still moleless...more updates after 3 days ...possibly with pictures. haha im thinkin she knows her stuff though. their looking pretty good. im not getting funny looks anymore. whew!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The days of our lives
The past 2 months have both raced and dragged on, simultaneoulsy. How this is so, well, it's rather hard to explain. I suppose you either get it or you don't. Much of this post may give a hint toward the possibilities of reason for this statement, though I cannot think of other words to describe the concept of 'time' during the past 60-odd days since departing from Thailand.
We've been surfing almost everyday in places such as in the Banyaks, a world-class wave called Treasure Island off the uninhabited island of Bangkaru, 3 different reef breaks (well, they've all been reef breaks so far) off the southern end of Tuangku in the "Bay of Plenty," and now we're in the Telos, a group of astonishingly ideal islands south of Nias. All these places, for those of you unfamiliar with this part of the world, reside off the northern half of the biggest island in Indonesia, called Sumatra. These waves are unlike any I've ever surfed before, as far as their size, speed, clarity, consistency, bottom composition, atmosphere, location, etc. It took me a minute to soak it all in, but Sumatra is definitely a dream holiday destination for surfers, which is why I've been exposed to so many Australians lately who've consciously dedicated a chunk of their savings to a week-or-so long surf trip on a charter boat or at one of the local surf camps in the area.
Some of these islands come fully equipped with fresh groundwater streams, breath-taking reefs hosting a full spectrum of in-your-face color, more coconut palms than one would know what to do with, white sandy beaches, washed-up shells bigger than your head, dazzling with color and fully intact, and some even come with super-friendly, milk-chocolate skinned locals who are fans of showing off their pearly whites, in return for the sight of your own. They're very helpful, communal beings, mostly Muslim (although many who speak okay-English are Christian), and lovers of life. How could one not be, in such an environment as this? I can only begin to explain the pureness of joy and happiness that pours like wildfire amongst these people, and for one reason in particular. They don't drink. Alcohol is forbidden in the Muslim religion, and without that as a factor, many of you may think life would be horrific, but there's actually a wholesomely refreshing, shameless kind of fun that can be created in its absence, believe it or not. Bahasa Indonesia (the language spoken in these parts) is simple enough, and I must say I'm catching on pretty quickly. It happens to be much easier than Thai, especially since the letters are our usual Latin-symbols, unlike many Asian languages, so that helps. None of this 46 consonants, 12 vowel sounds, and 5 significantly different tones-stuff to learn as in Thai! We've gotten to know several of the surf charter boats and crew in these islands, along with the owners of several other private yachts. It's amazing how small the world is, no matter where you are or where you're from. :)
Another thing that really gets me is how "intimidating" and "scary" many people make ex-patronizing out to be, like it's some crazy idea that only loons and hippies and explorers in history books do or have done, like life is so different "on the other side" or that making that giant committment to step off the known territory of the nation with which they've become so familiar, would break barriers and shake down everything they've ever know. In a way, I guess, this is true. But in defense of such an action, I must say it's no different.
Life is.
No matter where you are.
The only borderline scary thing about it all may be just how much you learn. It's truly amazing the person you realize you can become in a real environment where you can relax, let go of all the BS that you've somehow managed to get wound up in (which mostly ends up being little vices and kinks you weren't even aware you had in the first place). And I don't mean you can only be this person on a laid back island on the other side of the world, although it does make a decent place to start. heh. You begin to see things more clearly, even if you didn't before think things were actually pretty foggy.
I have taken these past few weeks to ponder some things that have been lingering under my skin and desperately seeking to surface, and finally, I've been able to get them down, along with some other thoughts I've come across. Mostly I've written them down to help myself sort them out, so to speak; however, I reckon they're worth a look, and if they intrigue or inspire you in any way, I'd severely enjoy hashing them out with you! Nick's not much of a philosopher, so most of my ideas and thoughts get shuffled and crammed around inside this cyclone of a head of mine and don't get much feedback or counter-thought. Anywho, cheers to all who are reading, aaaaand I love you. haha...no really. :)
-The deepest secret is that life is not a process of discovery, but a process of creation.
-Knowing is a divine state, yet the grandest joy is in being. The evolution is this: knowing, experiencing, being, for you cannot be that which you have not experienced.
-Physicality, or via the senses, is the only way to know experientially what you know conceptually.
-You cannot experience yourself as what you are until you've encountered what you are not (which is one reason why kids are so curious, experimental, and, oftentimes, seemingly rebellious and mischevious). It's 100% in our nature.
-It is by that which you are not that you yourself are defined.
-The truth about you shall ultimately prevail.
-Is it fear that you need in order to be, do, and have what is intrinsically right? Must you be threatened in order to "be good"? And what IS "being good"? Who sets the guidelines, anyway? Who makes the rules?
You are your own rule-maker. YOU set the guidelines. And you decide how well you have done; how well you are doing. For you are the one who has decided Who and What You Really Are--and Who You Want to Be. And you are the only one who can assess how well you're doing. No one else will judge you ever, for why, and how could even God judge God's own creation and call it bad?
-The entire medical profession is trained to keep people alive, rather than keeping people comfortable so that they can die with dignity. To a doctor or nurse, death is failure. To a friend or relative, death is disaster. Only to the soul is death a relief--a release.
-There is no such thing as an incorrect path, for on this journey you cannot "not get" to where you are going. It is a matter of not where, but when you will get there--yet even that is an illusion, for there is no "when," neither is there a "before" or "after." There is only now; an eternal moment of always in which you are experiencing yourself. A stop on one person's path may not be a stop on another's, so follow no one but the direction of your soul.
-The point of life is not to get anywhere--it is to notice that you are, and have always been, already there. You are, always and forever, in the moment of pure creation. The point of life is therefore to create--who and what you are, and then to experience that.
-Events are occurrences in time and space which you produce out of choice--some produced wilfully, and some events you draw to you--more or less unconsciously. Some events, such as natural disasters, are produced by a "collective consciousness", say from thoughts all over the planet. These can be changed by putting these thoughts into action. If enough people everywhere believe something must be done to help the environment, we will save the Earth. However, there has already been so mcuh damage done, that this will require a major attitudinal shift.
-It's all about perspective and outlook. Suffering is not only unnecessary, but also hazardous to your health. It has nothing to do with events, but with one's reaction to them. It is a re-action. What's happening is merely what's happening. How you FEEL about it is another matter. Worry is pointless. It is a wasted mental energy. Hatred is the most severely damaging mental condition. It poisons the body, and its effects are virtually irreversible.
-All illness is first created in the mind.
-You cannot experience your Self as creator unless and until you create; and you cannot create yourself until you uncreate yourself.
-The soul has come to the body, and the body to life, for the purpose of evolution. You are evolving, you are becoming. And you are using your relationhip with EVERYTHING to decide what you are becoming.
-Relationships fail when you see them as life's grandest opportunity to create and produce the experience of your highest conceptualization of another. Let each person in a relationship worry not about the other, but only, only, only about the Self. Your focus upon the other, your obsession with the other, is what causes the relationship to fail. It only matters what you are being in RELATIONSHIP to what the other is being, doing, having, saying, wanting, demanding, etc. Often times, two people literally lose themselves in a relationship. They get into the relationship hoping to find themselves, and they lose themselves instead. This losing of the Self in a relationship is what causes most of the bitterness in such couplings. Two people join together in a partnership hoping that the whole will be greater than the sum of the parts, only to find that it is less. They feel less than when they were single. Less capable, less able, less exciting, less attractive, less joyful, less content. This is because they ARE less. They've given up most of who they are in order to be, and to stay, in their relationship. Relationships were never meant to be this way. Yet this is how they are experienced by more people than you could ever know. Bring forth to the table a solid self, and the companionship of yet another solid self will then create a beautiful duo.
-If you cannot love yourself, you cannot love another. Many people make the mistake of seeking love of Self THROUGH love for another. Of course, this is not a conscious effort. They think: "If I can just love others, they will love me. Then I will be lovable, and I can love me." The reverse of this is that so many people hate themselves because they feel there is not another who loves them. This is a sickness--it's when people are truly "lovesick" because the truth is, other people do love them, but it doesn't matter. No matter how many people profess their love for them, it is not enough.
-You are not fear, you are love. Love that needs no protection, love that cannot be lost. Yet you will never know this in your experience if you continually answer the question "what choice in this situation is the most profitable?" or "How can I lose the least?," rather than "What is the highest choice?" There is nothing to gain or lose. Only those who see life in a different way ask the latter; those who see Self as a higher being; who understands that winning or losing is not the test, but only loving or failing to love. Ask yourself "what would love do?" Think not "I am my body," but "I am my soul".
-And when the absolute highest choice is made, the mystery dissolves itself, the circle completes itself, and the highest good for you becomes the highest good for another. What you do for your Self, you do for another. What you do for another, you do for the Self.
This is because you and the other are one.
And this is because there is naught but You.
-Be now and forever centered on your Self. Look to see what you are being, doing, and having in any given moment, not what's going on with another.
-The most loving person is the person who is Self-centered.
-Cultivate the technique of seeing all problems as opportunities. Opportunities to be, and decide, Who You Really Are.
-There is no "wrong" or "right". "Wrong" is a relative term, indicating the opposite of what you call "right". There's nothing "wrong" with anything. Yet what is "right"? Can you be truly objective in these matters? Or are "right" and "wrong" simply descriptions overlaid on events and circumstances by you, out of your decision about them? And what for the basis of your decision? Your own experience? No. In most cases, you've chosen to accept someone else's decision!
"Someone else decide! I'll go along, I'll go along!" You say. "Someone else just tell me what's right and wrong!"
This is why, by the way, human religions are so popular. It almost doesn't matter what the belief system is, as long as it's firm, consistent, clear in its expectation of the follower, and rigid. Given those characteristics, you can find people who believe in almost anything. The strangest behavior and belief can be--has been--attributed to God. "It's God's way", they say. "God's word". And there are those who will accept that, gladly. Because, you see, it eliminates the need to think.
-Then, when others have told you how you should feel, and it runs directly counter to how you do feel, you experience a deep inner conflict. Something deep inside you tells you that what others have told you is not Who You Are. So you go to your religionists, the people who put you there in the first place. You go to your priests and your rabbis and your ministers and your teachers, and they tell you to stop listening to your Self. The worst of them will try to scare you away from it; scare you away from what you intuitively know. They tell you about the devil, about Satan, about demons and evil spirits and hell and damnation and every frightening thing they can think of to get you to see how what you were intuitively knowing and feeling was wrong, and how the only place you'll find any comfort is in their thought, their idea, their theology, their definitions of right and wrong, and their concept of Who You Are. The seduction here is that all you have to do to get instant approval is to agree. It's an easy way out, a quick fix.
-A choice, a decision, coming from no previous personal knowledge, is called pure creation. Most people are not interested in making such decisions. They'd rather leave the important stuff to others. And so, in turn, most people are not self-created, but creatures of habit: other-created creatures.
-If you want to change a habit, a root thought, you have to act before you think, as opposed to the other way around. New thought is your only chance. It's your only real opportunity to evolve, to grow, to truly become Who You Really Are.
-If you want guarantees in life, then you don't want life. You want rehearsals for a script that's already been written. Life by its nature cannot have guarantees, or its whole purpose is thwarted.
-Opportunity, not obligation, is the cornerstone of religion, the basis of all spirituality.
-We have repressed sex, even as we have repressed life, rather than fully Self expressing, with abandon and joy. We have shamed sex, even as we have shamed life, calling it evil and wicked, rather than the highest gift and the greatest pleasure. The moral codes, religious constrictions, social taboos, and emotional conventions we have placed around sex (and, by the way, around love--and all of life) have made it virtually impossible for us to celebrate our being.
-You are going to be doing what you're doing for the rest of you life, just as you've been doing since birth. The only question is whether you'll be doing it consciously, or unconsciously, as the cause of my experience or the effect of it.
-Your life has no purpose, save the one you give it.
-Who do you think you are, anyway?
-Embarrassment is the response of a person who still has an ego investment in how others see him. Invite yourself to move past that. Try a new response. Try laughter.
-There's nothing to do but to be. "Be what?", you ask. Whatever you want to be. Happy. Sad. Weak. Strong. Joyful. Vengeful. Insightful. Blind. Good. Bad. Male. Female. You name it. Literally.
-Choose to make a life, not make a living. How can you think of wasting a moment doing something for a living you don't like to do? What kind of living is that? That's not a living, that is a dying!
-In the true order of things, one does not do something in order to be happy--one is happy and, hence, does something. The soul's decision precedes the body's action in a highly conscious person. So, just be, and everything else will follow.
-God is the energy you call imagination.
-You cannot be what you do not know your Self to be. That is why you have been given this life--so that you might know yourself in your own experience. Then you can conceive of yourself as Who You Really Are, and create yourself as that in your experience--and the circle is again complete, only bigger. :) And so, you are in the process of growing--or becoming. There is no limit to what you can become.
-You can change form all you wish, but you cannot fail to be. Yet, you can fail to know Who You Are--and in this failing, experience only the half of it.
That would be hell. And there is no hell. What would be the purpose of it?
-Desires change as even larger realities are glimpsed.
-Each to his own, without judgment.
-Be the cause of your experience.
We've been surfing almost everyday in places such as in the Banyaks, a world-class wave called Treasure Island off the uninhabited island of Bangkaru, 3 different reef breaks (well, they've all been reef breaks so far) off the southern end of Tuangku in the "Bay of Plenty," and now we're in the Telos, a group of astonishingly ideal islands south of Nias. All these places, for those of you unfamiliar with this part of the world, reside off the northern half of the biggest island in Indonesia, called Sumatra. These waves are unlike any I've ever surfed before, as far as their size, speed, clarity, consistency, bottom composition, atmosphere, location, etc. It took me a minute to soak it all in, but Sumatra is definitely a dream holiday destination for surfers, which is why I've been exposed to so many Australians lately who've consciously dedicated a chunk of their savings to a week-or-so long surf trip on a charter boat or at one of the local surf camps in the area.
Some of these islands come fully equipped with fresh groundwater streams, breath-taking reefs hosting a full spectrum of in-your-face color, more coconut palms than one would know what to do with, white sandy beaches, washed-up shells bigger than your head, dazzling with color and fully intact, and some even come with super-friendly, milk-chocolate skinned locals who are fans of showing off their pearly whites, in return for the sight of your own. They're very helpful, communal beings, mostly Muslim (although many who speak okay-English are Christian), and lovers of life. How could one not be, in such an environment as this? I can only begin to explain the pureness of joy and happiness that pours like wildfire amongst these people, and for one reason in particular. They don't drink. Alcohol is forbidden in the Muslim religion, and without that as a factor, many of you may think life would be horrific, but there's actually a wholesomely refreshing, shameless kind of fun that can be created in its absence, believe it or not. Bahasa Indonesia (the language spoken in these parts) is simple enough, and I must say I'm catching on pretty quickly. It happens to be much easier than Thai, especially since the letters are our usual Latin-symbols, unlike many Asian languages, so that helps. None of this 46 consonants, 12 vowel sounds, and 5 significantly different tones-stuff to learn as in Thai! We've gotten to know several of the surf charter boats and crew in these islands, along with the owners of several other private yachts. It's amazing how small the world is, no matter where you are or where you're from. :)
Another thing that really gets me is how "intimidating" and "scary" many people make ex-patronizing out to be, like it's some crazy idea that only loons and hippies and explorers in history books do or have done, like life is so different "on the other side" or that making that giant committment to step off the known territory of the nation with which they've become so familiar, would break barriers and shake down everything they've ever know. In a way, I guess, this is true. But in defense of such an action, I must say it's no different.
Life is.
No matter where you are.
The only borderline scary thing about it all may be just how much you learn. It's truly amazing the person you realize you can become in a real environment where you can relax, let go of all the BS that you've somehow managed to get wound up in (which mostly ends up being little vices and kinks you weren't even aware you had in the first place). And I don't mean you can only be this person on a laid back island on the other side of the world, although it does make a decent place to start. heh. You begin to see things more clearly, even if you didn't before think things were actually pretty foggy.
I have taken these past few weeks to ponder some things that have been lingering under my skin and desperately seeking to surface, and finally, I've been able to get them down, along with some other thoughts I've come across. Mostly I've written them down to help myself sort them out, so to speak; however, I reckon they're worth a look, and if they intrigue or inspire you in any way, I'd severely enjoy hashing them out with you! Nick's not much of a philosopher, so most of my ideas and thoughts get shuffled and crammed around inside this cyclone of a head of mine and don't get much feedback or counter-thought. Anywho, cheers to all who are reading, aaaaand I love you. haha...no really. :)
-The deepest secret is that life is not a process of discovery, but a process of creation.
-Knowing is a divine state, yet the grandest joy is in being. The evolution is this: knowing, experiencing, being, for you cannot be that which you have not experienced.
-Physicality, or via the senses, is the only way to know experientially what you know conceptually.
-You cannot experience yourself as what you are until you've encountered what you are not (which is one reason why kids are so curious, experimental, and, oftentimes, seemingly rebellious and mischevious). It's 100% in our nature.
-It is by that which you are not that you yourself are defined.
-The truth about you shall ultimately prevail.
-Is it fear that you need in order to be, do, and have what is intrinsically right? Must you be threatened in order to "be good"? And what IS "being good"? Who sets the guidelines, anyway? Who makes the rules?
You are your own rule-maker. YOU set the guidelines. And you decide how well you have done; how well you are doing. For you are the one who has decided Who and What You Really Are--and Who You Want to Be. And you are the only one who can assess how well you're doing. No one else will judge you ever, for why, and how could even God judge God's own creation and call it bad?
-The entire medical profession is trained to keep people alive, rather than keeping people comfortable so that they can die with dignity. To a doctor or nurse, death is failure. To a friend or relative, death is disaster. Only to the soul is death a relief--a release.
-There is no such thing as an incorrect path, for on this journey you cannot "not get" to where you are going. It is a matter of not where, but when you will get there--yet even that is an illusion, for there is no "when," neither is there a "before" or "after." There is only now; an eternal moment of always in which you are experiencing yourself. A stop on one person's path may not be a stop on another's, so follow no one but the direction of your soul.
-The point of life is not to get anywhere--it is to notice that you are, and have always been, already there. You are, always and forever, in the moment of pure creation. The point of life is therefore to create--who and what you are, and then to experience that.
-Events are occurrences in time and space which you produce out of choice--some produced wilfully, and some events you draw to you--more or less unconsciously. Some events, such as natural disasters, are produced by a "collective consciousness", say from thoughts all over the planet. These can be changed by putting these thoughts into action. If enough people everywhere believe something must be done to help the environment, we will save the Earth. However, there has already been so mcuh damage done, that this will require a major attitudinal shift.
-It's all about perspective and outlook. Suffering is not only unnecessary, but also hazardous to your health. It has nothing to do with events, but with one's reaction to them. It is a re-action. What's happening is merely what's happening. How you FEEL about it is another matter. Worry is pointless. It is a wasted mental energy. Hatred is the most severely damaging mental condition. It poisons the body, and its effects are virtually irreversible.
-All illness is first created in the mind.
-You cannot experience your Self as creator unless and until you create; and you cannot create yourself until you uncreate yourself.
-The soul has come to the body, and the body to life, for the purpose of evolution. You are evolving, you are becoming. And you are using your relationhip with EVERYTHING to decide what you are becoming.
-Relationships fail when you see them as life's grandest opportunity to create and produce the experience of your highest conceptualization of another. Let each person in a relationship worry not about the other, but only, only, only about the Self. Your focus upon the other, your obsession with the other, is what causes the relationship to fail. It only matters what you are being in RELATIONSHIP to what the other is being, doing, having, saying, wanting, demanding, etc. Often times, two people literally lose themselves in a relationship. They get into the relationship hoping to find themselves, and they lose themselves instead. This losing of the Self in a relationship is what causes most of the bitterness in such couplings. Two people join together in a partnership hoping that the whole will be greater than the sum of the parts, only to find that it is less. They feel less than when they were single. Less capable, less able, less exciting, less attractive, less joyful, less content. This is because they ARE less. They've given up most of who they are in order to be, and to stay, in their relationship. Relationships were never meant to be this way. Yet this is how they are experienced by more people than you could ever know. Bring forth to the table a solid self, and the companionship of yet another solid self will then create a beautiful duo.
-If you cannot love yourself, you cannot love another. Many people make the mistake of seeking love of Self THROUGH love for another. Of course, this is not a conscious effort. They think: "If I can just love others, they will love me. Then I will be lovable, and I can love me." The reverse of this is that so many people hate themselves because they feel there is not another who loves them. This is a sickness--it's when people are truly "lovesick" because the truth is, other people do love them, but it doesn't matter. No matter how many people profess their love for them, it is not enough.
-You are not fear, you are love. Love that needs no protection, love that cannot be lost. Yet you will never know this in your experience if you continually answer the question "what choice in this situation is the most profitable?" or "How can I lose the least?," rather than "What is the highest choice?" There is nothing to gain or lose. Only those who see life in a different way ask the latter; those who see Self as a higher being; who understands that winning or losing is not the test, but only loving or failing to love. Ask yourself "what would love do?" Think not "I am my body," but "I am my soul".
-And when the absolute highest choice is made, the mystery dissolves itself, the circle completes itself, and the highest good for you becomes the highest good for another. What you do for your Self, you do for another. What you do for another, you do for the Self.
This is because you and the other are one.
And this is because there is naught but You.
-Be now and forever centered on your Self. Look to see what you are being, doing, and having in any given moment, not what's going on with another.
-The most loving person is the person who is Self-centered.
-Cultivate the technique of seeing all problems as opportunities. Opportunities to be, and decide, Who You Really Are.
-There is no "wrong" or "right". "Wrong" is a relative term, indicating the opposite of what you call "right". There's nothing "wrong" with anything. Yet what is "right"? Can you be truly objective in these matters? Or are "right" and "wrong" simply descriptions overlaid on events and circumstances by you, out of your decision about them? And what for the basis of your decision? Your own experience? No. In most cases, you've chosen to accept someone else's decision!
"Someone else decide! I'll go along, I'll go along!" You say. "Someone else just tell me what's right and wrong!"
This is why, by the way, human religions are so popular. It almost doesn't matter what the belief system is, as long as it's firm, consistent, clear in its expectation of the follower, and rigid. Given those characteristics, you can find people who believe in almost anything. The strangest behavior and belief can be--has been--attributed to God. "It's God's way", they say. "God's word". And there are those who will accept that, gladly. Because, you see, it eliminates the need to think.
-Then, when others have told you how you should feel, and it runs directly counter to how you do feel, you experience a deep inner conflict. Something deep inside you tells you that what others have told you is not Who You Are. So you go to your religionists, the people who put you there in the first place. You go to your priests and your rabbis and your ministers and your teachers, and they tell you to stop listening to your Self. The worst of them will try to scare you away from it; scare you away from what you intuitively know. They tell you about the devil, about Satan, about demons and evil spirits and hell and damnation and every frightening thing they can think of to get you to see how what you were intuitively knowing and feeling was wrong, and how the only place you'll find any comfort is in their thought, their idea, their theology, their definitions of right and wrong, and their concept of Who You Are. The seduction here is that all you have to do to get instant approval is to agree. It's an easy way out, a quick fix.
-A choice, a decision, coming from no previous personal knowledge, is called pure creation. Most people are not interested in making such decisions. They'd rather leave the important stuff to others. And so, in turn, most people are not self-created, but creatures of habit: other-created creatures.
-If you want to change a habit, a root thought, you have to act before you think, as opposed to the other way around. New thought is your only chance. It's your only real opportunity to evolve, to grow, to truly become Who You Really Are.
-If you want guarantees in life, then you don't want life. You want rehearsals for a script that's already been written. Life by its nature cannot have guarantees, or its whole purpose is thwarted.
-Opportunity, not obligation, is the cornerstone of religion, the basis of all spirituality.
-We have repressed sex, even as we have repressed life, rather than fully Self expressing, with abandon and joy. We have shamed sex, even as we have shamed life, calling it evil and wicked, rather than the highest gift and the greatest pleasure. The moral codes, religious constrictions, social taboos, and emotional conventions we have placed around sex (and, by the way, around love--and all of life) have made it virtually impossible for us to celebrate our being.
-You are going to be doing what you're doing for the rest of you life, just as you've been doing since birth. The only question is whether you'll be doing it consciously, or unconsciously, as the cause of my experience or the effect of it.
-Your life has no purpose, save the one you give it.
-Who do you think you are, anyway?
-Embarrassment is the response of a person who still has an ego investment in how others see him. Invite yourself to move past that. Try a new response. Try laughter.
-There's nothing to do but to be. "Be what?", you ask. Whatever you want to be. Happy. Sad. Weak. Strong. Joyful. Vengeful. Insightful. Blind. Good. Bad. Male. Female. You name it. Literally.
-Choose to make a life, not make a living. How can you think of wasting a moment doing something for a living you don't like to do? What kind of living is that? That's not a living, that is a dying!
-In the true order of things, one does not do something in order to be happy--one is happy and, hence, does something. The soul's decision precedes the body's action in a highly conscious person. So, just be, and everything else will follow.
-God is the energy you call imagination.
-You cannot be what you do not know your Self to be. That is why you have been given this life--so that you might know yourself in your own experience. Then you can conceive of yourself as Who You Really Are, and create yourself as that in your experience--and the circle is again complete, only bigger. :) And so, you are in the process of growing--or becoming. There is no limit to what you can become.
-You can change form all you wish, but you cannot fail to be. Yet, you can fail to know Who You Are--and in this failing, experience only the half of it.
That would be hell. And there is no hell. What would be the purpose of it?
-Desires change as even larger realities are glimpsed.
-Each to his own, without judgment.
-Be the cause of your experience.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Aaaand we're off!
The trick is to combine waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilites of your dreams. if you can do that you can do anything. you may call me a dreamer. sell your waking life for minimum wage, but you get your dreams for free.
Seems like everyones sleep walking through their waking dreams or wake walking through their sleeping dreams.
Let two so commence, rather than more, for even two persons in the proper agreement in accord to bring the proper results are not easy to find. The desires for such meetings must be spontaneous and any other motive will barr out the highest thought current for good.
16.5.11
Drifting out of the bay, away from a place I referred to as 'home' for 2.5 months, it's amazing how one can connect with a place in such little time. Each day seems to add months onto the understanding of a given society and network of individuals traveling on such a spectrum of wavelengths of varying speed, color, and direction. I've spent about six months total in Thailand alone, and even after "settling into" various nooks and crannies of the country, ubilding connections and establishing relationships with all walks, there still lies a plethora of stones of culture, sights, and ideas left unturned. Alas, I have not a regret, as my time in this land has been spent wisely, according to the self-guide aspirations and desires frolicking about between my ears.
Guided by the light of a waning gibbous moon, my teeth emerge through clenched cheeks, my eyes squint into crows-feet-embraced globes, and that feeling one gets in that moment when everything seems right washes over my salt-splashed skin. This is the perfect night for sailing, and I am here, living it.
The two-day stratch from Chalong, Phuket, Thailand to Pulau Weh, Sumatra, Indonesia is, to date, the most relaxed journey I've had, and I say that somewhat in advance, with a bit of confidence and faith, or maybe it's insight and prediction, but something in me knows. The pure, at-ease state of mind I've developed over the past few weeks filling my time with open-ended adventures with Curtis, cherishing thoughts aplenty with a few select females in the area, along with the numerous sailors from every corner of this tiny world of which we inhabit, and seriously educating myselfon the unfortunate effects that the few high powers who reign over our nations had had on such a beautiful race of earthly beings and the planet they call home.
17.5.11
I had first watch last night, from 7:45 P.M. until 1 A.M., and I've never been exceptionally good at staying up late, so finding ways to entertain myself was crucial. The first couple hours was no big deal. Mostly, I just stood around different parts of the deck peering off into the night and letting the whirlwind of thoughts take its course through my mind. I opened my notebook and devirginized the first page, started reading a new book, and rediscovered the power that reading has on putting me directly to sleep. Just as I was on the verge of severe shut-eye, I spotted something black in the water in my periferral. I dropped my book and made a dash toward the bow, instantly wide awake and full of awareness. The echoing squeaks reassured my that my tired eyes weren't deceitful. At first there were five, then seven, and soon nine giddy porpoises took the reins and led the way, leaping and maneuvering inches from the bow. I sat as far out in front as my buns would allow, giving the near sensation of swimming amongst the pod. Together we raced the boat, their smooth underwater swagger meeting my gentle rise and fallsuggested by the rolling swells beneath the hull. Outstretched were my arms, yearning for one tender touch of these beautifully moonlit mammals. There was definitely a bond between us, and I felt it, a connection in nature that one can only experience in person, yet a feeling we, as humans, need to feel regularly. Only then will we realize the significance of a full circle of life, rather than a selfish and self-destructing pyramid with man at the top.
It was then that I fell asleep and thank God that Nick's a sailor.
His instincts wake him up so he can see the storm, boat, whale, or
Adjust the sails and score a knot and stumble back to bunk.
I guess a greater power is for some reason not against me. As
Real life things turned into lucid dreams and my night watch
Faded into slumber, I dreamt of beauty in every color,
As the ship glided peacefully over the calm waters.
The entire day, after waking to the calls of my porpoise friends, was a mind-blowing progression of the deep, clear blue water transforming into sea glass. By sunset this evening, I could practically count my lashes in the reflection passing below me. The most incredible setting that the sun has shown me was outrageously duplicated in the mirror beneath it, sending near-blinding rays of fluorescent pink and orange through the air particles and gently caressing the inner layers of my soul. Once again, I was rendered speechless, mesmorized by the splendor and sheer idea that such natural majesty could, in fact, exist. And why me? Why am I the one so fortunate enough to be blessed by this very moment, or rather series or seemingly everlasting moments?
I think if I were to give a brief statement in regards to where I find myself in this life for the time being, I'd be underexaggerating if I were to call it anything less than "tending to infinity," as the mathematical world puts it. Sure, there are certain things that could further enhance these moments I refer to as my life, but then again I'd be hesitant to bring them forth if so given the chance, simply because I cannot fathom a more satisfying state tan the one in which I currently fund myself. Life is good, to say the least.
If you act upon each minute detail of an action that you literally feel guided to carry out and you're mind and body are constantly alert and aware of themselves, your surroundings and the symbiotic relationships between the two, your perfect attendance will then yield reward in every way, and you will then realize true living.
We interpret and respond to the question "Where do you live?" inaccurately. The concept of living, as it is defined, refers to pure existence. Breathing, being, continuing. Many people take this idea too seriously and allow the heavy-hearted definition that first-world society has labeled it to infect their idea of what life really is, distorting the true definiteion so much that living, to them, becomes impossible without a secure set of items, generally speaking, a house, a car, a job, and, in turn, some form or other of debt. This is absurd, since all one needs is breath and a physical encasement for the spirit to inhabit. All else can be discarded as unnecessary material because all it does is create worry, fear, and stress, inhibiting the free and proper form of living to be carried out.
P.S.These are nothing more than my rambling thoughts put to cyber-paper. Disregard any nonsense you may come across. ;)
We made it to Pulau Weh, Sumatra in Western Indonesia. Picked up a mooring behind a small island in a sort of paradise lagoon until we head out in the wee morning hours on the 5-hour sail to Banda Aceh. Turquoise waters as clear as my mental state, keep us afloat. Bliss.
19.5.11
My first attempt at soup-making was a success. Vegetable red curry served elegantly with brown jasmine rice was consumed with a healthy portion of good conversation, soft entrancing ontes seeping through the speakers, and a brilliant breeze swept across the cockpit and off into the darkness. I slept amazingly on deck last night and awakened to the early chirping of tropical birds singing their praises of encouragement to the bright dawning star. Nick chekced the oil, I dropped the mooring, and peacefully we glided out of the anchorage, a citrusy morning glow shimmering off the white foam of our wake. Three energetic dolphins escorted us out into deeper waters and once around the bend, our compass needle shifted from SW to SE.
20.5.11
Down the Western Sumatran coast we make our way. A cool offshore night wind off of Banda Aceh last night soothed us to sleep, thoroughly resting our bodies for an yet another easy glide through the passage toward Lak Sedu. Five-foot long barracudas and a couple huge parrotfish and red snapper dart to and fro hunting for a late morning snack amidst the heavy flow of the current in the pass.
Pulau Raya is the destination of the day, in a small channel between 2 islands, one of larger size and the other being deemed my new acquisition, seeing as I got out the shortboard, paddled the 500 meters to shore, investigated the hidden sandstone caves where the tide wore its path day after day, discovered new (to me) species of snakes and salamander-like critters, spiral shells the size of my face that seemed to have rained down all over the soft white sand from the heavens, found a large piece of driftwood to spin and joust about and carry with me on my Apocolypto-like run through worn palms, driftwood stalagmites, giant, smoothed rocks, and tropical vines that outlined the beach. I even treated myself to an exfoliating body scrub/roll in the sand, which by far beat the normal shower I would've had onboard with a limited amount of collected rainwater to rid my skin of the saltiness. The primitivity was exactly what the doctor ordered, in case you were worried my days were deprived of any sort of excitement and rush.
Nightfall of yet another successful day rains down upon our vessel. I managed to cook up a flavorful tofu-veg stew followed by the remnants of some moist brown rice turned into coconut sticky rice with ripe mango. Nick whipped up some fresh bread which I coated with a generous layer of nutella and then adorned its surface with a slab of softened banana. Oh yeh! The tasty treat was thoroughly enjoyed to the stunning sight of fluorescent blue chunks of phosphorous parading past the hull in the gentle, sweeping current. Above, as if the show were splendid enough, appeared an exact replica of an oil spill in the sky. I'd never seen anything like it, and I had to do a double-take to make sure my eyes weren't failing me. The colors, some of which were new to me, blended and swirled in a bleeding swirl, all while the Muslim man chants his final Friday prayers in the distance from the loudspeakers on the island to the east.
Being this close to the Equator, at about 5 degrees latitude brings us closer to the stars. Orion's belt seems to have gotten a little looser, and his shoulder (or is it his knee?) is glowing and flickering red, green, and white, and another star below him (or above him?) flashes purple, then red, green, and white. I hung the hammock between the mast and forestay earlier today and it's just the place to do, well, just about anything. It evens beats the deck! Constant airflow on all sides, a gentle and occasional thrillingly high swinging from the wind and mild rocking of the boat conjours up yet another giggle from my diaphragm. It's stunning to see a 3-dimensional 360 degree view of the sky, as the sun makes its course from one side to the other and the thousands of clouds dance about overthe course of 12 hours and daylight allows me to witness an array of constant splendor.
Seems like everyones sleep walking through their waking dreams or wake walking through their sleeping dreams.
Let two so commence, rather than more, for even two persons in the proper agreement in accord to bring the proper results are not easy to find. The desires for such meetings must be spontaneous and any other motive will barr out the highest thought current for good.
16.5.11
Drifting out of the bay, away from a place I referred to as 'home' for 2.5 months, it's amazing how one can connect with a place in such little time. Each day seems to add months onto the understanding of a given society and network of individuals traveling on such a spectrum of wavelengths of varying speed, color, and direction. I've spent about six months total in Thailand alone, and even after "settling into" various nooks and crannies of the country, ubilding connections and establishing relationships with all walks, there still lies a plethora of stones of culture, sights, and ideas left unturned. Alas, I have not a regret, as my time in this land has been spent wisely, according to the self-guide aspirations and desires frolicking about between my ears.
Guided by the light of a waning gibbous moon, my teeth emerge through clenched cheeks, my eyes squint into crows-feet-embraced globes, and that feeling one gets in that moment when everything seems right washes over my salt-splashed skin. This is the perfect night for sailing, and I am here, living it.
The two-day stratch from Chalong, Phuket, Thailand to Pulau Weh, Sumatra, Indonesia is, to date, the most relaxed journey I've had, and I say that somewhat in advance, with a bit of confidence and faith, or maybe it's insight and prediction, but something in me knows. The pure, at-ease state of mind I've developed over the past few weeks filling my time with open-ended adventures with Curtis, cherishing thoughts aplenty with a few select females in the area, along with the numerous sailors from every corner of this tiny world of which we inhabit, and seriously educating myselfon the unfortunate effects that the few high powers who reign over our nations had had on such a beautiful race of earthly beings and the planet they call home.
17.5.11
I had first watch last night, from 7:45 P.M. until 1 A.M., and I've never been exceptionally good at staying up late, so finding ways to entertain myself was crucial. The first couple hours was no big deal. Mostly, I just stood around different parts of the deck peering off into the night and letting the whirlwind of thoughts take its course through my mind. I opened my notebook and devirginized the first page, started reading a new book, and rediscovered the power that reading has on putting me directly to sleep. Just as I was on the verge of severe shut-eye, I spotted something black in the water in my periferral. I dropped my book and made a dash toward the bow, instantly wide awake and full of awareness. The echoing squeaks reassured my that my tired eyes weren't deceitful. At first there were five, then seven, and soon nine giddy porpoises took the reins and led the way, leaping and maneuvering inches from the bow. I sat as far out in front as my buns would allow, giving the near sensation of swimming amongst the pod. Together we raced the boat, their smooth underwater swagger meeting my gentle rise and fallsuggested by the rolling swells beneath the hull. Outstretched were my arms, yearning for one tender touch of these beautifully moonlit mammals. There was definitely a bond between us, and I felt it, a connection in nature that one can only experience in person, yet a feeling we, as humans, need to feel regularly. Only then will we realize the significance of a full circle of life, rather than a selfish and self-destructing pyramid with man at the top.
It was then that I fell asleep and thank God that Nick's a sailor.
His instincts wake him up so he can see the storm, boat, whale, or
Adjust the sails and score a knot and stumble back to bunk.
I guess a greater power is for some reason not against me. As
Real life things turned into lucid dreams and my night watch
Faded into slumber, I dreamt of beauty in every color,
As the ship glided peacefully over the calm waters.
The entire day, after waking to the calls of my porpoise friends, was a mind-blowing progression of the deep, clear blue water transforming into sea glass. By sunset this evening, I could practically count my lashes in the reflection passing below me. The most incredible setting that the sun has shown me was outrageously duplicated in the mirror beneath it, sending near-blinding rays of fluorescent pink and orange through the air particles and gently caressing the inner layers of my soul. Once again, I was rendered speechless, mesmorized by the splendor and sheer idea that such natural majesty could, in fact, exist. And why me? Why am I the one so fortunate enough to be blessed by this very moment, or rather series or seemingly everlasting moments?
I think if I were to give a brief statement in regards to where I find myself in this life for the time being, I'd be underexaggerating if I were to call it anything less than "tending to infinity," as the mathematical world puts it. Sure, there are certain things that could further enhance these moments I refer to as my life, but then again I'd be hesitant to bring them forth if so given the chance, simply because I cannot fathom a more satisfying state tan the one in which I currently fund myself. Life is good, to say the least.
If you act upon each minute detail of an action that you literally feel guided to carry out and you're mind and body are constantly alert and aware of themselves, your surroundings and the symbiotic relationships between the two, your perfect attendance will then yield reward in every way, and you will then realize true living.
We interpret and respond to the question "Where do you live?" inaccurately. The concept of living, as it is defined, refers to pure existence. Breathing, being, continuing. Many people take this idea too seriously and allow the heavy-hearted definition that first-world society has labeled it to infect their idea of what life really is, distorting the true definiteion so much that living, to them, becomes impossible without a secure set of items, generally speaking, a house, a car, a job, and, in turn, some form or other of debt. This is absurd, since all one needs is breath and a physical encasement for the spirit to inhabit. All else can be discarded as unnecessary material because all it does is create worry, fear, and stress, inhibiting the free and proper form of living to be carried out.
P.S.These are nothing more than my rambling thoughts put to cyber-paper. Disregard any nonsense you may come across. ;)
We made it to Pulau Weh, Sumatra in Western Indonesia. Picked up a mooring behind a small island in a sort of paradise lagoon until we head out in the wee morning hours on the 5-hour sail to Banda Aceh. Turquoise waters as clear as my mental state, keep us afloat. Bliss.
19.5.11
My first attempt at soup-making was a success. Vegetable red curry served elegantly with brown jasmine rice was consumed with a healthy portion of good conversation, soft entrancing ontes seeping through the speakers, and a brilliant breeze swept across the cockpit and off into the darkness. I slept amazingly on deck last night and awakened to the early chirping of tropical birds singing their praises of encouragement to the bright dawning star. Nick chekced the oil, I dropped the mooring, and peacefully we glided out of the anchorage, a citrusy morning glow shimmering off the white foam of our wake. Three energetic dolphins escorted us out into deeper waters and once around the bend, our compass needle shifted from SW to SE.
20.5.11
Down the Western Sumatran coast we make our way. A cool offshore night wind off of Banda Aceh last night soothed us to sleep, thoroughly resting our bodies for an yet another easy glide through the passage toward Lak Sedu. Five-foot long barracudas and a couple huge parrotfish and red snapper dart to and fro hunting for a late morning snack amidst the heavy flow of the current in the pass.
Pulau Raya is the destination of the day, in a small channel between 2 islands, one of larger size and the other being deemed my new acquisition, seeing as I got out the shortboard, paddled the 500 meters to shore, investigated the hidden sandstone caves where the tide wore its path day after day, discovered new (to me) species of snakes and salamander-like critters, spiral shells the size of my face that seemed to have rained down all over the soft white sand from the heavens, found a large piece of driftwood to spin and joust about and carry with me on my Apocolypto-like run through worn palms, driftwood stalagmites, giant, smoothed rocks, and tropical vines that outlined the beach. I even treated myself to an exfoliating body scrub/roll in the sand, which by far beat the normal shower I would've had onboard with a limited amount of collected rainwater to rid my skin of the saltiness. The primitivity was exactly what the doctor ordered, in case you were worried my days were deprived of any sort of excitement and rush.
Nightfall of yet another successful day rains down upon our vessel. I managed to cook up a flavorful tofu-veg stew followed by the remnants of some moist brown rice turned into coconut sticky rice with ripe mango. Nick whipped up some fresh bread which I coated with a generous layer of nutella and then adorned its surface with a slab of softened banana. Oh yeh! The tasty treat was thoroughly enjoyed to the stunning sight of fluorescent blue chunks of phosphorous parading past the hull in the gentle, sweeping current. Above, as if the show were splendid enough, appeared an exact replica of an oil spill in the sky. I'd never seen anything like it, and I had to do a double-take to make sure my eyes weren't failing me. The colors, some of which were new to me, blended and swirled in a bleeding swirl, all while the Muslim man chants his final Friday prayers in the distance from the loudspeakers on the island to the east.
Being this close to the Equator, at about 5 degrees latitude brings us closer to the stars. Orion's belt seems to have gotten a little looser, and his shoulder (or is it his knee?) is glowing and flickering red, green, and white, and another star below him (or above him?) flashes purple, then red, green, and white. I hung the hammock between the mast and forestay earlier today and it's just the place to do, well, just about anything. It evens beats the deck! Constant airflow on all sides, a gentle and occasional thrillingly high swinging from the wind and mild rocking of the boat conjours up yet another giggle from my diaphragm. It's stunning to see a 3-dimensional 360 degree view of the sky, as the sun makes its course from one side to the other and the thousands of clouds dance about overthe course of 12 hours and daylight allows me to witness an array of constant splendor.
Chalong
Sometimes things change, and I think it's for the better. Always...whether it seems like it at the time or not. I ended up getting dumped off on the beach with no more than a forced 'Take Care' and a split-second side glance, due to a growing butting of heads between myself and the power-hungry cap-ee-TAHN. Needless to say, I was elated to be on my merry way to something bigger and better, although what that was, I had not a clue. Down the beach I walked, the totality of my belongings strapped to my front and back, drawing as much attention as a streaker with a neon-painted body charging down center field during a Superbowl kickoff. Passing a small, open-aired bar overflowing with "falang" (what the Thais call foreigners), I was again noticed and interrogated by a few tables full of men. After reciting my life story, which, after numerous recitations, can be summed up in about 45 seconds or less, depending on my interest in the addressed audience. I was directed just down the beach to "The Sand Bar/ Phuket Cruising Yacht Club," a Thai-style set-up of 3 adjacent rooms over-looking Chalong Bay with an atmosphere so laid back that one would almost pass by the place, assuming it was merely the home of another beach bum..which it is. The Aussie owner and Thai girlfriend live in one room, sell beer, offer showers, chart, map, and notice board usage, and rent out the third, or in my case, offer some paid work on the owner's boat, the rental room, and use of the motorbike. Sometimes I even manage the bar. Similar set up as I had at the Reggae bar, just a few kilometers south a few weeks ago.
Sailors come and go, and there's a pretty regular crowd that comes and goes and treats this little home-away-from-home as just that. A good majority of the crowd happens to be older men with no urgent obligations, a lifestyle that so fittingly resembles that of many Thai people. Books are read, conversations are had, guitars are strummed, and time passes by as the tide works its way into and out of the beach and the sun takes on its daily course in accordance. It's places like these where I find life the most reassuring. The times when there's nothing that beckons my efforts or brain power, yet I feel charged and inspired enough to move mountains. I love it here, 'here' being moments like these where the so-called 'real world' is non-existent, and the only thing that matters is MY world and how I want to go about it for myself. This is how things should be. In my opinion, of course. For the moment, I am content with thoughts of my future and a clear head in which to toss them about.
Sailors come and go, and there's a pretty regular crowd that comes and goes and treats this little home-away-from-home as just that. A good majority of the crowd happens to be older men with no urgent obligations, a lifestyle that so fittingly resembles that of many Thai people. Books are read, conversations are had, guitars are strummed, and time passes by as the tide works its way into and out of the beach and the sun takes on its daily course in accordance. It's places like these where I find life the most reassuring. The times when there's nothing that beckons my efforts or brain power, yet I feel charged and inspired enough to move mountains. I love it here, 'here' being moments like these where the so-called 'real world' is non-existent, and the only thing that matters is MY world and how I want to go about it for myself. This is how things should be. In my opinion, of course. For the moment, I am content with thoughts of my future and a clear head in which to toss them about.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Here we are. We are here. Here and now.
10.2.11
I finally made it to the beach (Koh Tao, a.k.a. Turtle Island) and my soul has brightened. I think i can feel it radiating from within. I treated myself to a coconut bath today after an intensely invigorating hike to the highest peak in Koh Tao. I picked it up from the side of the dirt road, smashed it open on a rock, and panting ever-so-excitedly with both delight and exhaustion, I stretched my smackers open as wide as my face would allow, attempting to collect both streams of naturally purified water into my mouth, and yet a significant amount must've found another way out of the nut, by the looks and feeling of the sopping wet heaviness of my shirt afterward. I was able to ring it out a bit, but with coconut shreds and sand stuck to my face, hands, and clothing, there's no doubt a curious onlooker would have questioned my general hygiene or at least my recent whereabouts. Replenished and rehydrated and unconcerned about the opinions of others, I continued on my way down the slippery gravel path, skipping and running, when possible, and hopping meticulously, remaining as low as possible on the steeper, more eroded bits.
5.3.11
It almost stormed yesterday. I took a break from editing in the studio, walked down to the pier to get a
pancake (banana, chocolate, peanut butter), and brought it down to the beach where I sat on the rocks and watched what I hoped was an angry storm brewing overhead. The wind picked up and tried to steal my pancake plate, but onto it I held with forceful greed. It reminded me of the wicked black clouds filled with vengeance and rage that used to come plundering into the harbor back in the days when i worked on the boats in St. Augustine. The sun would suddenly disappear, the wind would somehow grow spiteful, and as the darkness in the distance quickly drew nearer, the shroud lines and rigging on all the sailboats masts would create an uproarious symphony of frightened emotion. The smell of a nearing rain storm, a bone-chilling dampness in the air, and a deep whistling of the wind weaving around the towering masts and pilings will forever broaden my mischevious grin.
18/3/11
I don't know where I'm going. I only know I've set out on a long journey. Only when I'm at
my way's end will I discover why I made that great journey, even though it may have stretched over many generations.
I haven't been able to completely reach that state called "asleep" in four nights. I'm a little confused as to why this may be, since I am generally really good at reaching this point with great ease. My head is beginning to throb, I am acquiring a temper, or maybe just a shortened fuse (or this may simply be a result of repetitive, annoying situations I've found myself in where I am the customer who may not always be right, but in these circumstances, without a doubt, have been, and yet I get taken advantage of anyway because this is Thailand that's how things roll here. I don't think they have ever considered bad service as being an option, much less, a Better Business Bureau. And I'm not typically one to complain, either. Anyway...it's a good thing that these ever-increasing hours of ...awakeness?... have somehow been filled with pure mental bliss, despite the periods of absurdity and frustration, which still weren't enough to shake my delicious metaphysical state. Don't ask me why,for it's something I have been trying to put words to ever since the overwhelming state of mind came into play several months ago, as has done nothing but grown and practailly spread to every unknown cranny of my mind since then. I'm attempting to describe a mentality that is a constant, well, mindgasm, if you will. Honestly, this is the only word that has has come the closest to fitting the bill. Fathom if you can a mental massage..the best massage you've ever experienced; the most breathtaking moment you've ever encountered
or even dreamt of encountering, and then let that feeling take over your soul. This sounds a little weird, I know, but like I said, it's not easy to describe, and so far, I can only portray it with closed eyes, a smile, and a satisfied sigh. If I could bottle and sell this sense of life, I'd no doubt be the most popular person in the universe. I hope everyone can somehow and someday feel this level of satisfaction and contentness.
My last night on Koh Tao was the best one I've had in a while. It was the premiere of my showreel, the final compilation pf all my video work I've captured since the beginning of my underwater videography course. Crystal dive resort bar was the venue for the event, and all the friends I'd acquired in my 2 months on the island were in attendance. Needless to say, I was rather excited. Approxiamtely 100 people gathered in the bar area when the first scene faded onto the big screen and the loud speakers began revealing the queue of sounds and tunes I'd been toying with and tweaking to my liking for hours upon end during the weeks prior.
Twenty-three minutes later, just as the final credits had dipped to black, a touching round of applause and cheers, nods, and smiles showered the moment. Numerous viewers approached me thereafter with, not only extended hands and compliments, but also words of thanks and appreciation for helping them to see things underwater in a whole new way, inspiring them to create underwater movies of their own, and bringing others who had been out of the water for over a week due to unwanted circumstances, back to the one place they love the most. I felt proud. That's a good feeling that everyone should experience at some point in their life.
Although it was no Hollywood production, the fact that my first self-made film had actually moved people was extremely rewarding. The best part wasn't the limelight, but knowing I had painted authentic smiles on faces and warmed hearts. As if that weren't already enough to make my week, I was able to spend the next few hours into the morning with my two favorite brother-like boys. The fact that the 3 of us are able to completely and naturally express ourselves has been such a blessing added to my travels. It's so difficult to find people with whom you can completely connect and be yourself in your own hometown, much less traveling alone on the other side of the globe. I was almost beginning to think I'd never be able to use and enjoy my wit, sarcasm, and intellectualism with another soul again until I met these two. Together, the 3 of us are unstoppable, and though it may seem discriminatory the fact that they are American and Canadian, I am proud to say that they helped make my time on Koh Tao more exciting!
If I haven't yet given an example of the frequent ridiculousness and lack of sense-making in this country, let me do so now. There's usually at least one or two good examples that come about daily, but I'll just give a quick example or two to paint the picture for you. I had purchased a joint boat/bus ticket the day before my departure from Koh Tao to Phuket. This trip should, in theory take about 8 hours in total. The ferry boat from Koh Tao to Surat Thani (on the mainland) is scheduled to leave the pier at 10AM, and so check-in is at 9:30AM.
I stuffed the last of my belongings in my oversized military pack and proceeded downstairs to the guesthouse office/mobile phone sales and sevice shop/motorcycle rental shop that is run by a few young Thai "kids". (Again, keep in mind that these are all typical things here).
So, since it was early, you know, 9:15 A.M., the kids were still sleeping in the back of the office, so I had to wake them. With sleepy eyes, disheveled hair, and wrinkly boxers, one of the boys came out and proceeded to find my paperwork. Another one, about 18, ran upstairs to my room to make sure it was acceptable and I hadn't taken the towel or oversized towel (aka sheet to sleep with) that was provided for my convenience. Upon returning, I was questioned as to where the pillow was. Once I translated his broken English in my head and figured out what he meant, I replied there was no pillow in the room to begin with (2 months ago). He informed me that I should've told him that the pillow was missing, although he personally showed me the room on the day I moved in, and never said anything about a pillow not being on the mattress, so after also not being supplied a pillow in my first apartment in Bangkok, I assumed (my mistake) that the room simply did not come with one. After all, there was nothing but a towel, a "sheet," a mattress, and a floor mat in the room.
By this point, it's 9:33 and though I am learning "Thai time," I have a hard time with not being punctual and prepared, especially when traveling, so I am beginning to get figity. After 15 more minutes of the boys discussing things and making phone calls in Thai, I am prompted to fork out 300 baht ($10) for the pillow. For some more minutes, I attempted (my second mistake) to reiterate the fact that I had had to sleep for 2 months without a pillow, and that I should not have to pay money because I think I already suffered enough. Ha! Well, they "can not sell the room now without a pillow" of course, so they were kind enough to give me a special price, 200 baht. How sweet of them. At 9:56 A.M. I ran with 55 pounds of what's left of my material life, on my back, downhill on a horrible road in the pouring rain, 200 baht lighter than before.
I arrive at the pier and a line of other weighed-down foreigners stand, dripping wet, under the tin awning of the check-in window. The Thai man behind the window informs me that the departure time has been delayed until 11:00. Ok, I expected that. Happy to not have missed the boat, I scamper off in the downpour with my load to find some much-deserved brunch. By 12:45 P.M., our boat has arrived and its previous passengers, pale-faced and agitated, warn us not to get on that boat due to extremely rough conditions, people puking everywhere, gorwn men crying, and an overall horrible experience. Twenty-five minutes later, I am the first of 80 or so to make my way in the rain down the decrepit dock to the ferry boat. Just as the boat was pulling away from the dock, the bow of another boat comes plowing through one of the large windows on the bottom deck where we are all seated and crammed in like sardines. The captain, upstairs, is unaware of the mishap and continues to pull out of the harbor and into the rough seas ahead. The Thai kid selling snacks inside the lower deck with us, doesn't seem to be bothered by the broken window, so people move away from it as best they can, as their increasing regret levels begin to appear on their faces. Once out of the safety of the harbor, the winds pick up and the 20-foot swells rock the boat, sometimes nearly enough so that anyone on the upper deck could almost reach out and touch the water. I wasn't liking the tightly-packed quarters, and crawled over damp travelers to get to the upper deck, to the bow. The sky was fierce-looking and the wind packed a blow, but an obvious smirk spread across my face and I began to come to life again. Thirty minutes flew by, and I fancied a different view, so I climbed back down to the pool of people, which now about blinded me with its fluorescent orange color. Every passenger aboard the ship had securely fastened himself into a neon life jacket. Many had terror-stricken facades, and I thought the floor had been flooded with all the tears streaming from their eyes. As it turned out, the biggest swell we'd encountered had sent loads of water in through the busted window, so glass and sea water now owned the floorboards. Still, somehow, I struggled to keep a straight face.
This sensation that I can't seem to shake, whether I'm trying or not, is so good that it's almost bad. And I don't know what to do with it.
Although the actual tune of this song by The Format doesn't much appeal to my senses, I can appreciate the lyrics quite a bit:
Swans
At least come join me
Within the belly of the big blue beast.
Set asail, catch a breeze,
And come on
Don't forget to fill your suitcase.
Now watch it sink,
Cause where we're going we don't need a thing.
Not a map, or a seed,
Cause where we've been is who we used to be.
We started wrapping our regrets in cloth
Are you defined by all the things you want...
Or did you get caught
Up in the things that we are not?
You were born to believe you can't get lost,
So when you run, you always get too far.
Now there's nothing you haven't seen.
But where we're headed we have never been,
Past the pavement that we used to walk,
Past the people that we used to know.
Now come on, go
Past the people that had broke our hearts.
We started laughing at them from afar.
But now we've climbed too far without a rope.
Now come on, go
No we're not swans,
Nor are we as ugly as we think we are.
We don't take to compliments but please don't stop
Now come on, come on,
We are not swans
We fit into eachother, we are russian dolls,
Where somewhere in the centre sits a beating heart.
But come on, come on,
We are not swans.
Now do you feel we've gone too far
Or do you feel we've reached the top
Or do you feel like letting go
Now come on, hold on,
We are not swans,
Nor are we as ugly as we think we are.
We have fallen fast, but we aren't falling far
Now come on, come on,
We are not swans,
Our fathers gave us features that we didn't want,
Our mothers claim those features made them fall in love,
But come on, come on,
We are swans.
We are flying higher than our counterparts.
We have got eachother I'd say that's enough.
Now come on,
come on,
come on.
21.3.11
Phuket
So leaving Koh Tao was an adventure. We established that. After finally reaching the edge of the mainland in Surat Thani at 12:30 A.M. and having missed the last bus to Phuket by about 9.5 hours, the four of us who were continuing on (to Phuket or Krabi) ended up having to stay overnight in a hotel at our own expense. Oh, and there was only one room with one big bed and a twin bed in it. That's another story in itself, but after causing me a scene on the bus, failing to get my way, and having to pay again for the bus ride from SUrat Thani to Phuket because the ticket taker on the boat had taken my bus ticket as well, I arrived in PHuket town. My original intention was to come to Phuket and find some work on a boat as crew, and hopefully get the chance to travel simultaneoulsly; however, after the recent shenanigans and severe sleep deprivation, I decided to camp out on a secluded beach on the northwestern part of my new island for a night to clear my head. I found the line of taxi buses that run all around the large island and asked which one was going to Nai Yang. I set my hefty bag aboard, confirmed with the driver we'd be leaving in 10 minutes, and hustled across the street to see what cheap snacks I could find to munch on at the glorified convenient store, found nothing appetizing, and ran back, hoping he'd not left without me and that my bad remained untouched. Fifty minutes later, we took off, heading south. This seemed a bit odd to me, but I was enjoying the sites from the rear bumper, regardless. The sun began to set and I was the last passenger remaining. Signs pointed to the next (and southernmost) beach called Nai Haan. "Of course," I laughed to myself. When the taxi came to a halt and the driver's eyes met mine in the rear view mirror, I reminded him that I'd said "Nai YANG, not Nai HAAN!" Well, here we go again. I'll tell ya if traveling doesn't give you patience, I don't know what will. He told me it was the nicest beach (with a price to go with it) on the island and that I should have a look. If I don't like it I can come back and catch the last bus going back to Phuket town that leaves in 5 minutes. Right. I had wanted to camp on the beach anyway, right, and although they didn't rent out tents on this beach, it wouldn't be the first time (even in the last 2 weeks) that I'd passed out in the sand. So, I shook it off, and started down toward the beach, found a toilet stall with a broken light, changed in the dark, sweaty stall into my bikini, and soon found a large rock down on the crowded beach by which I set my pack. Just as I pulled out my book and began to settle down, an old German guy approached me and began questioning about my luggage on the beach and inquire as to where I'd be staying for the night. Shocked by my answer, he switched over to German and informed another older German man in a Speedo as to what my current accomodation plans were. His friend wouldn't have it and offered to take me on his motorbike to a place he knew I could stay for the night. The Reggae Bar, why not? I spent the following 5 nights sleeping in random places in the bar, hanging out with Thai, Bob Marley-look-a-likes, watching soft hair being transformed into tight dreadlocks, making belts, bags and shoes out of leather and snakeskin (well, I, myself made a fancy bracelet), watching the foreigner transplants race around the salt lake on motorbikes or in BMW's or tennis shoes, helping prepare community dishes for whoever happened to be there at the time, hand-washing clothes and draping them on the john-boat to dry in the sun, and grabbing overpriced beers from the fridge for the sporatic patron. I was a Reggae Bar resident. And an unpaid employee. And a part of this beautiful potpourri of a mostly male, Thai-Rasta family.
Life is hard. ha. I'm tempted to start dreading my hair now. An Australian boy with
hair a few centimeters shorter than mine is getting his done now by a Thai lady with dreads that southwardly surpass her tail end. The air is warm and there's a soothing breeze that creeps its way amongst the paintings, leather products, geckos, cobwebs, and other so-called "art" creations that adorn the surface of the tree-trunk floor posts. This place reminds me of an old garage/shop in a retired, Rastafarian hippie-mechanic's backyard. Rusting metal bunk beds, old-fashioned sewing contraptions, and intricate wood carvings and furniture are camouflaged amidst the spontaneous display of color that is dispersed about the place. "Walls" are formed by hanging leather bags, old pieces of drift wood, and sheets of extra metal roofing material. The bar bathroom is a typical Thai-style "wet room," as I refer to them, with a toilet, bum gun hose, industrial size garbage can containing water and a floating bowl (used for showering), a sink, and a pivoting plastic mirror, with a small, matching shelf beneath it that struggles to maintain its grasp of the wall. The times I am usually ready for a shower generally tend to be the time the bar customers are needing to break the seal and sometimes form a small queue of anxiously-hopping-from-side-to-side women outside my "shower" door.
26.3.11
I had rented a motorbike for a day and took it for a spin around the island to see about a job in some of Phuket's numerous marinas. After filling out applications and picking the brains of many a "yachtie," I came upon 2 Australian men chatting inbeween their boats. They told me that they only knew of one guy who was leaving Thailand who may be in need of some help, but who requires a "ticket" for insurance purposes, which I don't have. I scampered down the dock in search of this guy's boat and stopped to ask the only foreign sailor-type in sight if he knew the whereabouts of this boat. I ended up climbing aboard and listening to magic happen. This was not the boat I was looking for, but he was always in need of a deckhand, was planning to leave Thailand 3 days before my visa expired (in 2 weeks...the perfect amount of time to prepare and get acquiainted with the boat), was going to all the dream-like places I'd envisioned, offered me the use of his dive gear and cameras, both video (with underwater housing) and still, was willing to teach me anything I wanted to know, and seemed to be a genuinely kind guy. His Thai girlfriend, a young married couple from the UK (though Jamaican) and Columbia, his son and son's girlfriend (a few years younger than I), and a close friend from the UK who is a fairly well-known artist would be accompanying us. Until departure, I could stay in his spare bedroom with my own bathroom, and have unlimited use of their motorbike. Expenses paid. All it takes is a little patience.
I can't wait to head off into the open ocean. The route isn't yet set in stone, due to the monsoon changing early, but Langkawi, Malaysia and Singapore are pretty definite starting points. I love my life. Have I said that?
The first song I ever remember hearing on the radio as a child has crossed the path of my eardrums a few times lately and struck me as rather appropriate for my life. It's one by Rod Stewart and the chorus goes a little something like this:
Oh, the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
With the words 'I love you" rolling off my tongue
No never will I roam for I know my place is home
Where the ocean meets the sky, I'll be sailin'
I finally made it to the beach (Koh Tao, a.k.a. Turtle Island) and my soul has brightened. I think i can feel it radiating from within. I treated myself to a coconut bath today after an intensely invigorating hike to the highest peak in Koh Tao. I picked it up from the side of the dirt road, smashed it open on a rock, and panting ever-so-excitedly with both delight and exhaustion, I stretched my smackers open as wide as my face would allow, attempting to collect both streams of naturally purified water into my mouth, and yet a significant amount must've found another way out of the nut, by the looks and feeling of the sopping wet heaviness of my shirt afterward. I was able to ring it out a bit, but with coconut shreds and sand stuck to my face, hands, and clothing, there's no doubt a curious onlooker would have questioned my general hygiene or at least my recent whereabouts. Replenished and rehydrated and unconcerned about the opinions of others, I continued on my way down the slippery gravel path, skipping and running, when possible, and hopping meticulously, remaining as low as possible on the steeper, more eroded bits.
5.3.11
It almost stormed yesterday. I took a break from editing in the studio, walked down to the pier to get a
pancake (banana, chocolate, peanut butter), and brought it down to the beach where I sat on the rocks and watched what I hoped was an angry storm brewing overhead. The wind picked up and tried to steal my pancake plate, but onto it I held with forceful greed. It reminded me of the wicked black clouds filled with vengeance and rage that used to come plundering into the harbor back in the days when i worked on the boats in St. Augustine. The sun would suddenly disappear, the wind would somehow grow spiteful, and as the darkness in the distance quickly drew nearer, the shroud lines and rigging on all the sailboats masts would create an uproarious symphony of frightened emotion. The smell of a nearing rain storm, a bone-chilling dampness in the air, and a deep whistling of the wind weaving around the towering masts and pilings will forever broaden my mischevious grin.
18/3/11
I don't know where I'm going. I only know I've set out on a long journey. Only when I'm at
my way's end will I discover why I made that great journey, even though it may have stretched over many generations.
I haven't been able to completely reach that state called "asleep" in four nights. I'm a little confused as to why this may be, since I am generally really good at reaching this point with great ease. My head is beginning to throb, I am acquiring a temper, or maybe just a shortened fuse (or this may simply be a result of repetitive, annoying situations I've found myself in where I am the customer who may not always be right, but in these circumstances, without a doubt, have been, and yet I get taken advantage of anyway because this is Thailand that's how things roll here. I don't think they have ever considered bad service as being an option, much less, a Better Business Bureau. And I'm not typically one to complain, either. Anyway...it's a good thing that these ever-increasing hours of ...awakeness?... have somehow been filled with pure mental bliss, despite the periods of absurdity and frustration, which still weren't enough to shake my delicious metaphysical state. Don't ask me why,for it's something I have been trying to put words to ever since the overwhelming state of mind came into play several months ago, as has done nothing but grown and practailly spread to every unknown cranny of my mind since then. I'm attempting to describe a mentality that is a constant, well, mindgasm, if you will. Honestly, this is the only word that has has come the closest to fitting the bill. Fathom if you can a mental massage..the best massage you've ever experienced; the most breathtaking moment you've ever encountered
or even dreamt of encountering, and then let that feeling take over your soul. This sounds a little weird, I know, but like I said, it's not easy to describe, and so far, I can only portray it with closed eyes, a smile, and a satisfied sigh. If I could bottle and sell this sense of life, I'd no doubt be the most popular person in the universe. I hope everyone can somehow and someday feel this level of satisfaction and contentness.
My last night on Koh Tao was the best one I've had in a while. It was the premiere of my showreel, the final compilation pf all my video work I've captured since the beginning of my underwater videography course. Crystal dive resort bar was the venue for the event, and all the friends I'd acquired in my 2 months on the island were in attendance. Needless to say, I was rather excited. Approxiamtely 100 people gathered in the bar area when the first scene faded onto the big screen and the loud speakers began revealing the queue of sounds and tunes I'd been toying with and tweaking to my liking for hours upon end during the weeks prior.
Twenty-three minutes later, just as the final credits had dipped to black, a touching round of applause and cheers, nods, and smiles showered the moment. Numerous viewers approached me thereafter with, not only extended hands and compliments, but also words of thanks and appreciation for helping them to see things underwater in a whole new way, inspiring them to create underwater movies of their own, and bringing others who had been out of the water for over a week due to unwanted circumstances, back to the one place they love the most. I felt proud. That's a good feeling that everyone should experience at some point in their life.
Although it was no Hollywood production, the fact that my first self-made film had actually moved people was extremely rewarding. The best part wasn't the limelight, but knowing I had painted authentic smiles on faces and warmed hearts. As if that weren't already enough to make my week, I was able to spend the next few hours into the morning with my two favorite brother-like boys. The fact that the 3 of us are able to completely and naturally express ourselves has been such a blessing added to my travels. It's so difficult to find people with whom you can completely connect and be yourself in your own hometown, much less traveling alone on the other side of the globe. I was almost beginning to think I'd never be able to use and enjoy my wit, sarcasm, and intellectualism with another soul again until I met these two. Together, the 3 of us are unstoppable, and though it may seem discriminatory the fact that they are American and Canadian, I am proud to say that they helped make my time on Koh Tao more exciting!
If I haven't yet given an example of the frequent ridiculousness and lack of sense-making in this country, let me do so now. There's usually at least one or two good examples that come about daily, but I'll just give a quick example or two to paint the picture for you. I had purchased a joint boat/bus ticket the day before my departure from Koh Tao to Phuket. This trip should, in theory take about 8 hours in total. The ferry boat from Koh Tao to Surat Thani (on the mainland) is scheduled to leave the pier at 10AM, and so check-in is at 9:30AM.
I stuffed the last of my belongings in my oversized military pack and proceeded downstairs to the guesthouse office/mobile phone sales and sevice shop/motorcycle rental shop that is run by a few young Thai "kids". (Again, keep in mind that these are all typical things here).
So, since it was early, you know, 9:15 A.M., the kids were still sleeping in the back of the office, so I had to wake them. With sleepy eyes, disheveled hair, and wrinkly boxers, one of the boys came out and proceeded to find my paperwork. Another one, about 18, ran upstairs to my room to make sure it was acceptable and I hadn't taken the towel or oversized towel (aka sheet to sleep with) that was provided for my convenience. Upon returning, I was questioned as to where the pillow was. Once I translated his broken English in my head and figured out what he meant, I replied there was no pillow in the room to begin with (2 months ago). He informed me that I should've told him that the pillow was missing, although he personally showed me the room on the day I moved in, and never said anything about a pillow not being on the mattress, so after also not being supplied a pillow in my first apartment in Bangkok, I assumed (my mistake) that the room simply did not come with one. After all, there was nothing but a towel, a "sheet," a mattress, and a floor mat in the room.
By this point, it's 9:33 and though I am learning "Thai time," I have a hard time with not being punctual and prepared, especially when traveling, so I am beginning to get figity. After 15 more minutes of the boys discussing things and making phone calls in Thai, I am prompted to fork out 300 baht ($10) for the pillow. For some more minutes, I attempted (my second mistake) to reiterate the fact that I had had to sleep for 2 months without a pillow, and that I should not have to pay money because I think I already suffered enough. Ha! Well, they "can not sell the room now without a pillow" of course, so they were kind enough to give me a special price, 200 baht. How sweet of them. At 9:56 A.M. I ran with 55 pounds of what's left of my material life, on my back, downhill on a horrible road in the pouring rain, 200 baht lighter than before.
I arrive at the pier and a line of other weighed-down foreigners stand, dripping wet, under the tin awning of the check-in window. The Thai man behind the window informs me that the departure time has been delayed until 11:00. Ok, I expected that. Happy to not have missed the boat, I scamper off in the downpour with my load to find some much-deserved brunch. By 12:45 P.M., our boat has arrived and its previous passengers, pale-faced and agitated, warn us not to get on that boat due to extremely rough conditions, people puking everywhere, gorwn men crying, and an overall horrible experience. Twenty-five minutes later, I am the first of 80 or so to make my way in the rain down the decrepit dock to the ferry boat. Just as the boat was pulling away from the dock, the bow of another boat comes plowing through one of the large windows on the bottom deck where we are all seated and crammed in like sardines. The captain, upstairs, is unaware of the mishap and continues to pull out of the harbor and into the rough seas ahead. The Thai kid selling snacks inside the lower deck with us, doesn't seem to be bothered by the broken window, so people move away from it as best they can, as their increasing regret levels begin to appear on their faces. Once out of the safety of the harbor, the winds pick up and the 20-foot swells rock the boat, sometimes nearly enough so that anyone on the upper deck could almost reach out and touch the water. I wasn't liking the tightly-packed quarters, and crawled over damp travelers to get to the upper deck, to the bow. The sky was fierce-looking and the wind packed a blow, but an obvious smirk spread across my face and I began to come to life again. Thirty minutes flew by, and I fancied a different view, so I climbed back down to the pool of people, which now about blinded me with its fluorescent orange color. Every passenger aboard the ship had securely fastened himself into a neon life jacket. Many had terror-stricken facades, and I thought the floor had been flooded with all the tears streaming from their eyes. As it turned out, the biggest swell we'd encountered had sent loads of water in through the busted window, so glass and sea water now owned the floorboards. Still, somehow, I struggled to keep a straight face.
This sensation that I can't seem to shake, whether I'm trying or not, is so good that it's almost bad. And I don't know what to do with it.
Although the actual tune of this song by The Format doesn't much appeal to my senses, I can appreciate the lyrics quite a bit:
Swans
At least come join me
Within the belly of the big blue beast.
Set asail, catch a breeze,
And come on
Don't forget to fill your suitcase.
Now watch it sink,
Cause where we're going we don't need a thing.
Not a map, or a seed,
Cause where we've been is who we used to be.
We started wrapping our regrets in cloth
Are you defined by all the things you want...
Or did you get caught
Up in the things that we are not?
You were born to believe you can't get lost,
So when you run, you always get too far.
Now there's nothing you haven't seen.
But where we're headed we have never been,
Past the pavement that we used to walk,
Past the people that we used to know.
Now come on, go
Past the people that had broke our hearts.
We started laughing at them from afar.
But now we've climbed too far without a rope.
Now come on, go
No we're not swans,
Nor are we as ugly as we think we are.
We don't take to compliments but please don't stop
Now come on, come on,
We are not swans
We fit into eachother, we are russian dolls,
Where somewhere in the centre sits a beating heart.
But come on, come on,
We are not swans.
Now do you feel we've gone too far
Or do you feel we've reached the top
Or do you feel like letting go
Now come on, hold on,
We are not swans,
Nor are we as ugly as we think we are.
We have fallen fast, but we aren't falling far
Now come on, come on,
We are not swans,
Our fathers gave us features that we didn't want,
Our mothers claim those features made them fall in love,
But come on, come on,
We are swans.
We are flying higher than our counterparts.
We have got eachother I'd say that's enough.
Now come on,
come on,
come on.
21.3.11
Phuket
So leaving Koh Tao was an adventure. We established that. After finally reaching the edge of the mainland in Surat Thani at 12:30 A.M. and having missed the last bus to Phuket by about 9.5 hours, the four of us who were continuing on (to Phuket or Krabi) ended up having to stay overnight in a hotel at our own expense. Oh, and there was only one room with one big bed and a twin bed in it. That's another story in itself, but after causing me a scene on the bus, failing to get my way, and having to pay again for the bus ride from SUrat Thani to Phuket because the ticket taker on the boat had taken my bus ticket as well, I arrived in PHuket town. My original intention was to come to Phuket and find some work on a boat as crew, and hopefully get the chance to travel simultaneoulsly; however, after the recent shenanigans and severe sleep deprivation, I decided to camp out on a secluded beach on the northwestern part of my new island for a night to clear my head. I found the line of taxi buses that run all around the large island and asked which one was going to Nai Yang. I set my hefty bag aboard, confirmed with the driver we'd be leaving in 10 minutes, and hustled across the street to see what cheap snacks I could find to munch on at the glorified convenient store, found nothing appetizing, and ran back, hoping he'd not left without me and that my bad remained untouched. Fifty minutes later, we took off, heading south. This seemed a bit odd to me, but I was enjoying the sites from the rear bumper, regardless. The sun began to set and I was the last passenger remaining. Signs pointed to the next (and southernmost) beach called Nai Haan. "Of course," I laughed to myself. When the taxi came to a halt and the driver's eyes met mine in the rear view mirror, I reminded him that I'd said "Nai YANG, not Nai HAAN!" Well, here we go again. I'll tell ya if traveling doesn't give you patience, I don't know what will. He told me it was the nicest beach (with a price to go with it) on the island and that I should have a look. If I don't like it I can come back and catch the last bus going back to Phuket town that leaves in 5 minutes. Right. I had wanted to camp on the beach anyway, right, and although they didn't rent out tents on this beach, it wouldn't be the first time (even in the last 2 weeks) that I'd passed out in the sand. So, I shook it off, and started down toward the beach, found a toilet stall with a broken light, changed in the dark, sweaty stall into my bikini, and soon found a large rock down on the crowded beach by which I set my pack. Just as I pulled out my book and began to settle down, an old German guy approached me and began questioning about my luggage on the beach and inquire as to where I'd be staying for the night. Shocked by my answer, he switched over to German and informed another older German man in a Speedo as to what my current accomodation plans were. His friend wouldn't have it and offered to take me on his motorbike to a place he knew I could stay for the night. The Reggae Bar, why not? I spent the following 5 nights sleeping in random places in the bar, hanging out with Thai, Bob Marley-look-a-likes, watching soft hair being transformed into tight dreadlocks, making belts, bags and shoes out of leather and snakeskin (well, I, myself made a fancy bracelet), watching the foreigner transplants race around the salt lake on motorbikes or in BMW's or tennis shoes, helping prepare community dishes for whoever happened to be there at the time, hand-washing clothes and draping them on the john-boat to dry in the sun, and grabbing overpriced beers from the fridge for the sporatic patron. I was a Reggae Bar resident. And an unpaid employee. And a part of this beautiful potpourri of a mostly male, Thai-Rasta family.
Life is hard. ha. I'm tempted to start dreading my hair now. An Australian boy with
hair a few centimeters shorter than mine is getting his done now by a Thai lady with dreads that southwardly surpass her tail end. The air is warm and there's a soothing breeze that creeps its way amongst the paintings, leather products, geckos, cobwebs, and other so-called "art" creations that adorn the surface of the tree-trunk floor posts. This place reminds me of an old garage/shop in a retired, Rastafarian hippie-mechanic's backyard. Rusting metal bunk beds, old-fashioned sewing contraptions, and intricate wood carvings and furniture are camouflaged amidst the spontaneous display of color that is dispersed about the place. "Walls" are formed by hanging leather bags, old pieces of drift wood, and sheets of extra metal roofing material. The bar bathroom is a typical Thai-style "wet room," as I refer to them, with a toilet, bum gun hose, industrial size garbage can containing water and a floating bowl (used for showering), a sink, and a pivoting plastic mirror, with a small, matching shelf beneath it that struggles to maintain its grasp of the wall. The times I am usually ready for a shower generally tend to be the time the bar customers are needing to break the seal and sometimes form a small queue of anxiously-hopping-from-side-to-side women outside my "shower" door.
26.3.11
I had rented a motorbike for a day and took it for a spin around the island to see about a job in some of Phuket's numerous marinas. After filling out applications and picking the brains of many a "yachtie," I came upon 2 Australian men chatting inbeween their boats. They told me that they only knew of one guy who was leaving Thailand who may be in need of some help, but who requires a "ticket" for insurance purposes, which I don't have. I scampered down the dock in search of this guy's boat and stopped to ask the only foreign sailor-type in sight if he knew the whereabouts of this boat. I ended up climbing aboard and listening to magic happen. This was not the boat I was looking for, but he was always in need of a deckhand, was planning to leave Thailand 3 days before my visa expired (in 2 weeks...the perfect amount of time to prepare and get acquiainted with the boat), was going to all the dream-like places I'd envisioned, offered me the use of his dive gear and cameras, both video (with underwater housing) and still, was willing to teach me anything I wanted to know, and seemed to be a genuinely kind guy. His Thai girlfriend, a young married couple from the UK (though Jamaican) and Columbia, his son and son's girlfriend (a few years younger than I), and a close friend from the UK who is a fairly well-known artist would be accompanying us. Until departure, I could stay in his spare bedroom with my own bathroom, and have unlimited use of their motorbike. Expenses paid. All it takes is a little patience.
I can't wait to head off into the open ocean. The route isn't yet set in stone, due to the monsoon changing early, but Langkawi, Malaysia and Singapore are pretty definite starting points. I love my life. Have I said that?
The first song I ever remember hearing on the radio as a child has crossed the path of my eardrums a few times lately and struck me as rather appropriate for my life. It's one by Rod Stewart and the chorus goes a little something like this:
Oh, the rhythm of my heart is beating like a drum
With the words 'I love you" rolling off my tongue
No never will I roam for I know my place is home
Where the ocean meets the sky, I'll be sailin'
Friday, January 21, 2011
Foreign Territories as Newly Acquired Domesticities
Romping around in the jungle decked out in camo, surrounded by a natural wall of giant bamboo clusters, as a pleasant breeze dancing with the heat of the day maintains the peace in this small Karen village base camp just across the Burma border, I find myself mingling with a handful of boys and men, guns and dirt. The hours of the day pass as we box, do pullups and pushups, and dismantle and clean deadly weapons used to defend these peaceful, Christian people from the unruly Burmese government. Out here in the jungle, life is simple and beautiful, aside from the ongoing tension and violence imposed by the Burmese as they burn villages and steal innocent lives for no reason other than to claim power. Bird songs intertwine with the sounds of shuffling leaves on giant bamboo stalks as they sway in the wind to make for an exceptionally serene soundtrack. I wake up with the sun as a breakfast of fried eggs, Ma-Ma noodles, fish, and rice awaits me with a thermos of hot water and instant 3-in-1 coffee packets. Lunch and dinner are usually the same, although canned sardines or freshly killed and dried mystery meat that hung from the tree have been known to replace the fresh fish. This may not seem like a 5-star meal to you, but I'll have you know I looked forward to these meals everyday. The random mini bananas, pomelo, and fresh sugar cane personally prepared with a machete also add to the excitement.
One would assume the Karen language is similar to that of the Thais, but this would be a false assumption. Even the lifestyle and culture is very different, often times almost opposite. Unlike the Buddhist Thai people, the Karen religion is generally Christian. Not dissimilar from Thais, however, they are extremely resourceful and ingenuitive when it comes to creating something out of nothing. The technology in the jungle may not be as sophisticated as that of the Western world, but the level of happiness and the number of smiles proves the unnecessity of such technology. This is not to say these villagers aren't intrigued and even fascinated by iPhones and notebook computers, but what they don't know definitely doesn't hurt them in that regard.
We have created a monster in the West, where the days can't provide us with enough hours and because of this we are constantly burdened with the pressures of time constraints and having to always have or want the latest advancements and upgrades in technology.
Our walls become thicker, cities more concrete, and our hearts colder and more difficult to share with others. I think this is one reason, among several, why our relationships seem so disposable. We are beginning to live disposable lives, and it's extremely humbling to witness this first-hand, living in a world that seems so natural and purely human. A couple men here in the camp walk around with one bamboo leg after stepping on landmines near their villages, and some are unschooled refugees who miraculously speak 3 languages, are strong as an ox, and house souls so beautiful you can't help but stare in awe.
I believe in technological advancement and constantly bettering ourselves and our lives; however, when it turns into a completely different world that is foreign to our roots, when we forget the way nature smells, when we contract ailments simply because our immune systems have been babied our entire lives, when we become incapable of communicating with people who are different from us and instead expect them to speak our language without us trying to learn from them, I think we are failing to appreciate life for what it is and how it's been given to us. I loved my time in the jungle with these people. As I make my way back to Bangkok to collect the rest of my belongings and then to venture on down to the islands, I plan to keep these memories in the forefront of my mind and hopefully come back to spend with them some more time.
One would assume the Karen language is similar to that of the Thais, but this would be a false assumption. Even the lifestyle and culture is very different, often times almost opposite. Unlike the Buddhist Thai people, the Karen religion is generally Christian. Not dissimilar from Thais, however, they are extremely resourceful and ingenuitive when it comes to creating something out of nothing. The technology in the jungle may not be as sophisticated as that of the Western world, but the level of happiness and the number of smiles proves the unnecessity of such technology. This is not to say these villagers aren't intrigued and even fascinated by iPhones and notebook computers, but what they don't know definitely doesn't hurt them in that regard.
We have created a monster in the West, where the days can't provide us with enough hours and because of this we are constantly burdened with the pressures of time constraints and having to always have or want the latest advancements and upgrades in technology.
Our walls become thicker, cities more concrete, and our hearts colder and more difficult to share with others. I think this is one reason, among several, why our relationships seem so disposable. We are beginning to live disposable lives, and it's extremely humbling to witness this first-hand, living in a world that seems so natural and purely human. A couple men here in the camp walk around with one bamboo leg after stepping on landmines near their villages, and some are unschooled refugees who miraculously speak 3 languages, are strong as an ox, and house souls so beautiful you can't help but stare in awe.
I believe in technological advancement and constantly bettering ourselves and our lives; however, when it turns into a completely different world that is foreign to our roots, when we forget the way nature smells, when we contract ailments simply because our immune systems have been babied our entire lives, when we become incapable of communicating with people who are different from us and instead expect them to speak our language without us trying to learn from them, I think we are failing to appreciate life for what it is and how it's been given to us. I loved my time in the jungle with these people. As I make my way back to Bangkok to collect the rest of my belongings and then to venture on down to the islands, I plan to keep these memories in the forefront of my mind and hopefully come back to spend with them some more time.
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