I feel like people tell me all the time that they think I'm brave.
I don't actually know if this is true.
Sometimes I definitely feel like a total wuss in disguise or something.
I think I'm just stubborn and when I think I'm right about something... I pretty much insist that I KNOW I'm right!
So when I get a gut reaction or an impulse, I become instantly beyond certain that it must be.
I am definitely spontaneous and impulsive.
But brave?
Maybe.
I get scared.
If you've ever been surfing with me, you've seen it. I laugh and paddle back to the boat insisting that I take pictures or that I am tired or something.
In reality- riddled to the bone with irrational fear that is shaking me to the core.
If you've ever flown on a plane with me and we hit gnarly turbulence, you might have just noticed me talking extra fast and holding my rose quartz travel amulet a little tighter... But trust me... There are butterflies tossling around with the turbulent plane.
...When I am showing up for a date or a romantic meeting, it might look like I'm cool, calm and composed, but in reality I am so far lost in a daydream world of what if's and hypotheticals I am basically detatched from reality- but that's just the way I deal with nerves I guess.
Chit chatter away, distracting my friends from their fear and appeasing my own.
But for some reason when I'm in fear, it seems to come off to others as bravery.
Bravery to me is something bold, strong, no conditions, no second thoughts... It's my father.
When my dad says something is so, you just don't argue... Not just because he's huge and loud and intimidating (unless you're his doting daughter and know the secret inside scoop that he's a Teddy bear/gay hairdresser named Renee disguised as an enormous opera singing giant)....
You don't argue with big daddy because he's right... Like... Always.
It's actually slightly annoying.
Always.
And when he leads the way, you don't question... You just follow.
And he literally always gets you where you're going.
In a car, in a conversation, in a crisis... He is the ultimate guide AND he spent his life standing on stage in front of thousands and thousands of people singing and sharing his soul to strangers.
He is the epitome of bravery to me.
Me?
I'm just little and defiant and try to stand tall and take big steps like my daddy... I walk with conviction... I lead the way even when I have no idea where I'm going and when me and the trail of lost souls following in my wake hit the dead end I just shrug and admit I have no clue where I am or why anyone followed me in the first place.
People always remember me as much taller then I am.
I just learned to hold myself like a tall person coming from a family of amazons.
But bravery....
Bravery is courage... And sometimes I feel like i am merely the cowardly lioness from wizard of Oz... I know I have the courage and bravery everyone sees within me and comments on somewhere deep (or perhaps not so deep at all) inside of me... But I gotta get to the emerald city to see it for myself I guess.
Once I see my reflection in that cosmic mirror and hear it from The wizard behind the curtain... Then I will believe that all this jet setting, cruising Asia alone and going on crazy adventures for a year is actually sprung out of bravery and not just impulsive Aries energy and craziness.
So where is the wizard?
So where is my emerald city?
I have visited the gorgeous emerald green rolling hills up and down the west coast of America... From washington state to big sur and lake tahoe... The highlands and malibu canyons... I've swum through emerald green seaweed floating in the Cyprus sea.. The turquoise waters that glisten like tiny emerald chips in Indonesia and Thailand.... Mexico and Greece.... Italy, France, Belgium, Scotland, Spain, Singapore, Wales, Japan... England and Holland... everywhere shone like emeralds in one way or another...
But I haven't found my emerald city...
The place that holds the wizards message and makes me see how brave I am...
Recognizing my strength and standing in my true power... Knowing that I am my father's daughter.
This place I have not found yet.
This morning I sat by the pool on the roof of the Dang Derm hotel in Bangkok with two girls who had just returned from India... We talked at length while lying in the spotty sun that peeked through heavy grey monsoon rain clouds. I felt my words spill out faster, my skin get hotter... I was excited and enthralled... Writing down suggestions... Picking their brains.
They saw bravery and a solo woman with an insatiable spiritual appetite ready to take on everything and anything...
I think it was all masking my fear.
I haven't booked anything yet in India... Not even my visa.
Partly because I am my mother's daughter- a believer... A truster... A flower.... A dancer... I want my India experience to unfold like the thousand petalled lotus on the crown of my head.
And also because I am I'm ex-husband's ex-wife.
Because I'm divorced.
And Because I'm scared.
I'm scared of commitment.
I'm scared of saying yes I'll jump before I'm on the ledge.
I'm the girl who can't say no... So yes of course I'll go. I'll jump before you even have to ask... But to commit ahead of time makes my palms sweat.
I guess that's why all my flights are 10 times more expensive then they should be.
They are all booked absolutely last minute.
Once I'm on the plane I shake my head and smack my thigh and scream inside my head "duhhhhh! Zani. You were always going to be here. Why didn't you just plan ahead and trust a little more."
I think maybe because I haven't found my emerald city.
But whoa- just realized... I won't find it without a flight to get there.
I gotta GO FIND my emerald city.
Bam.
Gotta go book some flights.
More on this later...
----
After writing this I flew from Bangkok to Malaysia.
I sat beside a Malaysian car salesman and landed in KL at 11pm... Bought myself a chamomile tea at starbucks and found a cozy seat to rest in for the next four hours. Thanks to free wi-fi, my i-thing and modern miracles that interconnect all my friends and i around the world at all hours... I chatted with Aussie mike who was in london and various friends on their way to burning man... Colin and josh on their way to Kansas, my sister setting to move from Boston to michigan to work for steel mine reform or something amazing like that.
Around 4:30 am I jolted awake realizing i'd dozed off for a few minutes and jumped up looking for Cary and Laura-sure they'd gone to find a bathroom.
It took me a solid five minutes to realize I was alone and half asleep in a Starbucks in Malaysia.
I staggered into the departures terminal and checked into my flight to Padang which would be taking off at 7:50am.
I wandered through the duty free stalls and stores that were open and found a seat with a bottle of water and earbuds playing me the sweet sounds of the notorious xx (a mash up of the xx and biggie)... Real good.
I got tapped on the shoulder by the two Muslim girls sitting to my right outside gate T15.
They signaled me to take out my earphones and talk to them.
They asked my name in broken English and where I was from.
They told me their names and I realized they were Indonesian so I started speaking indo to them which they loved. It actually didn't take me long at all to kick back into gear with the language.
We chatted for about a half hour- their eyes lit up- two sisters full of love and energy.
Then they asked if my parents were still alive. I said yes and told them a little about my mom and dad.
(my eyes I'm sure lighting up too... I love to talk about my family if you hadn't noticed)
Then they both swallowed a little harder and told me that their father died last night.
That's why they were flying home to Medan.
He was sitting in his chair after dinner and his head just tilted back and he was gone.
Never sick.
His spirit just decided it was time to fly the coop.
My first thought was how brave these girls were.
So strong and stable knowing they were flying home to find the shell their father once lived in.
To them it was just part of life.
I yawned and apologized.
They asked me where I slept and I laughed. I told them I closed my eyes at starbucks.
They excitedly insisted I come to Their house next time I was in KL (which will be soon and often)
They drew me a map- gave me both their phone numbers and said I never have to pay for a hotel in KL ever. Not even a taxi. They told me the city bus that goes right to their house.
I honestly think I will go stay with them next time I come to KL.
Beautiful brave goddess girls who are now without a father... But you can tell their father loved them and raised them well while he was alive.
Rest in peace father of Wanie & Sue...
Next stop for zani.... Padang and some SLEEP!
Next mission: find the emerald city and my badge of bravery
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
TonsAI YAI YAI I love this place!!!!
I am on an airplane again...
I realized that since I arrived in southeast asia nearly 7 months ago I have been on somewhere around 15 planes, well over 100 longboats, canoes and ferry boats... And of course the hundreds of nautical miles I clocked on brentie's dearly departed speedboat "nyangnyang hujan"... Which means 'singing in the rain'
I was singing in the rain this morning as Laura, Cary and I departed the magical village we has literally stumbled into yesterday.. It's called Tonsai.
Before we knew it we were very unwillingly departing after not nearly enough time in this hippie vibe Venice-esque secret rock climbing haven you literally have to scale a gnarly cliff and rock climb (which I later did barefoot of course)... To find this little gem of a village.
We had arrived in Krabi by ferry and upon meeting a French guy with a blue scarf, bright eyes and a fortuitous name.. I made an executive decision that we'd follow the frenchies and dive into their longboat heading wherever they were going.
I was exhilarated!
I yelped over the hum of the loud motor and smacked my hand on the wood planks of the buzzing thai canoe "this!!!! This is adventure!!! This is traveling!"
Laura and Cary laughed and looked slightly terrified and excited at the same time.
By some synchronistic twist of luck, we ended up in Raily Beach, which Captain Gina had scribbled a map in the back of my weMoon diary back in Phuket.
It said "Tonsai- steep climb"
We walked to the other side of Railey beach, past howling monkeys and beautiful cliff faces, and found it. Steep climb indeed.
Together with all our stuff (and mind you Laura and I share a problem called overpacking like whoa)... So ya.
Lightpacker/athlete of the century Cary carried half my stuff and seemed to skip over the cliff.
I gotta say it was seriously one of the more challenging physical experiences of my entire life.... Or at least in a very long time.
When Laura and I finally crossed the threshold out of the jungle and slippery rocks and started our descent towards this Mecca which we could now wee below us... We all immediately understood why we were here as we felt the familiar recognizable energy....
It felt like a big sur topanga canyon air.
We checked into our little rugged hut that reminded us all of sleep-away camp.
The Rastafarian Thai bartender named Tafee bubbled with joy when he talked and answered each and every question "why not!?"
I approached the Open air bar and asked if it would be alright to get three tequila soda limes to take back across the footpath to where the three of us were sitting devouring the most delicious green curry and the essence of one another....
"why not!?" tafee cried turning his hands upwards towards the incredible woven vines and pieces of gnarled branches hanging from the ceiling and down in front g the giant bob marley tapestry.
"I don't know!" I replied playing along joyfully.
"why not!?" he howled again.
"I deliver to you! American beauty and friends!"
"really!?" I exclaimed!
"why not!?" we both said and laughed.
Ten minutes later tafee came dancing up to our dinner table with beautiful glasses garnished with sweet pineapple slices and lotus flowers.
After we ate and drank under the light of the moon which was bouncing off the cliff face that hung able our heads resembling petrified dripcastles I used to make as a child on Carmel beach as my mother would twirl through the tidepools and tell us for the ten thousanth time how she almost became a marine biologist but chose to dance instead.
The fog seemed to twirl and dance around the dramatic cliffs and bays of Tonsai as our longtail boat pulled out and back towards Krabi far far far too soon.
That morning a rock climber who walked as though it was a second home, sported a shirt that said
"I'm leaving Tonsai TOMMORROW!!!"
And on the back it said sheepishly smaller
... Maybe
I can see how this place swallows you and makes you never want to leave... That is... If YOU are one of US....
In Krabi, I checked my email and found a letter from my mother telling me about an artist she met in San Diego by chance.
He's an eccentric, wonderful, creative soul who not only offers to mentor my mom (a fairly new but phenomenally talented water color painter)... But she also has agreed to work with him in an altruistic endeavor to paint at the hospital with sick children.
I wrote her back, my heart nearly heaving with joy. How beautiful my mom found one of her people so quickly.
My parents spent the last few years in Moraga, Calfornia- on the 6th fairway of a private golf course county club. The air was thick with conservative, balding rich white republicans and my mom was literally short of breath the entire time. Her blood pressure rose.. Her sinuses shut down...
She lost her balance.
I know what that's like.
I too, need MY people... The people who go to Tonsai and rock climb and sit in tafee's bar and then retire to a rustic cabin early so they can be up for the magic of dawn.
Not the twenty somethings that invade Ko phangang and drunkenly dance to lady gaga with a bucket of vodka redbull in hand and wake up and noon in agony with the taste of vomit on their lips.
I say this and make it sound awful- but trust me it is fun. I recognize it. Partying is fun!
Just like my mom recognized that her golf course pear orchard valley home was beautiful... But at the end of the day... We are not able to balance the world when we are the only ones awake on the other side feeling suffocated by sleeping souls...
I need hippies.
I need awake, conscious, digging for deeper meaning in everything, yogis.
I need rock climbers and adventurers and shell collectors.
I need creators and writers.... Painters and poets...
I need witty, intelligent thinkers...
I need datenights that include raw foods and macadamia nut milk chai lathes and barefoot beach walks under the full moon.
I need deep breathers so that I can breathe deep too.
I need my breath to be deep so my thoughts can be light.
-------------
Bangkok
We checked into the Dang Derm Hotel on Khaosahn Road. The same place Jessica and I stayed earlier in the month.
It's reasonable, central, clean, big comfy beds, hot showers and has a rooftop pool.
All 3 of us slept in the king sized bed like we did in Bali too (me in the middle of course)
I love sitting 'bitch' in the car... I love being squished between love- for as long as I candelabra I've loved being squeezed between the mattress and a wall or in the crack of couch cushions.
I like being held.
I'm also the middle child.
This is also my friend nick's theory on why I wear so many bracelets and heavy necklaces and anklets... I'm apparently binding myself inside my skin. Otherwise I might float away into the ether.
I woke up safely in my ski. Wedged between two goddesses and we set off on another adventure.
We got in a tuktuk and I sat in the middle.
We tools longboat cruise down the the river- through the floating market- feeding the zillions of catfish with loaves of bread which made me nearly vomit it was so gross.
Finally our longtail boat dropped us at The Temple of Dawn... My favorite temple by far at this point.
We wandered and then returned to Khaosahn where I started gettin sick... Yet again.
Maybe this time it was a defense mechanism so I could sleep through Cary and Laura's departure and not have to deal with the ripping, tearing pain of parting ways with them.
Either that or the antibiotics and various medicines I have been on this month have wiped my immune system out.
I slept for 2 days in Bangkok, waking up to eat provoking yogurt and bananas....
I made it up to the pool for an hour and closed my eyes only to open them and find hundreds of dragon flies hovering above me.
I erupted into Uncontrollable laughter as I always do when I see dragonflies.
I came back to my room and took 108 conscious breaths... Deep, full, healing, conscious, cleansing breaths with my feet up the wall following my mala I just bought at the temple of dawn.
I kept thinking about burning man and how in just a few days my PEOPLE would be joining at the playa temple to celebrate life and love and art.
Why am I here? I thought....
'Because you have to be somewhere.' a little voice inside me replied.
That was a good enough answer for me for some reason.
Tomorrow night I fly to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a night and then back on to Padang and I'll be back in the Mentawais in less then a week.
I can hardly wait to feel that air... The water... The essence of those magical islands.
I plan to detox my body with lots of clear clean ocean air, healthy foods, yoga, meditation, breathing & resting.
And then I go to Australia. Soul sister Liz is totally my people.
Without a doubt she and I will explore the Tonsai/Big Sur/Topanga//Venice/Santa Cruz sides of Sydney....
Woo hoo
I realized that since I arrived in southeast asia nearly 7 months ago I have been on somewhere around 15 planes, well over 100 longboats, canoes and ferry boats... And of course the hundreds of nautical miles I clocked on brentie's dearly departed speedboat "nyangnyang hujan"... Which means 'singing in the rain'
I was singing in the rain this morning as Laura, Cary and I departed the magical village we has literally stumbled into yesterday.. It's called Tonsai.
Before we knew it we were very unwillingly departing after not nearly enough time in this hippie vibe Venice-esque secret rock climbing haven you literally have to scale a gnarly cliff and rock climb (which I later did barefoot of course)... To find this little gem of a village.
We had arrived in Krabi by ferry and upon meeting a French guy with a blue scarf, bright eyes and a fortuitous name.. I made an executive decision that we'd follow the frenchies and dive into their longboat heading wherever they were going.
I was exhilarated!
I yelped over the hum of the loud motor and smacked my hand on the wood planks of the buzzing thai canoe "this!!!! This is adventure!!! This is traveling!"
Laura and Cary laughed and looked slightly terrified and excited at the same time.
By some synchronistic twist of luck, we ended up in Raily Beach, which Captain Gina had scribbled a map in the back of my weMoon diary back in Phuket.
It said "Tonsai- steep climb"
We walked to the other side of Railey beach, past howling monkeys and beautiful cliff faces, and found it. Steep climb indeed.
Together with all our stuff (and mind you Laura and I share a problem called overpacking like whoa)... So ya.
Lightpacker/athlete of the century Cary carried half my stuff and seemed to skip over the cliff.
I gotta say it was seriously one of the more challenging physical experiences of my entire life.... Or at least in a very long time.
When Laura and I finally crossed the threshold out of the jungle and slippery rocks and started our descent towards this Mecca which we could now wee below us... We all immediately understood why we were here as we felt the familiar recognizable energy....
It felt like a big sur topanga canyon air.
We checked into our little rugged hut that reminded us all of sleep-away camp.
The Rastafarian Thai bartender named Tafee bubbled with joy when he talked and answered each and every question "why not!?"
I approached the Open air bar and asked if it would be alright to get three tequila soda limes to take back across the footpath to where the three of us were sitting devouring the most delicious green curry and the essence of one another....
"why not!?" tafee cried turning his hands upwards towards the incredible woven vines and pieces of gnarled branches hanging from the ceiling and down in front g the giant bob marley tapestry.
"I don't know!" I replied playing along joyfully.
"why not!?" he howled again.
"I deliver to you! American beauty and friends!"
"really!?" I exclaimed!
"why not!?" we both said and laughed.
Ten minutes later tafee came dancing up to our dinner table with beautiful glasses garnished with sweet pineapple slices and lotus flowers.
After we ate and drank under the light of the moon which was bouncing off the cliff face that hung able our heads resembling petrified dripcastles I used to make as a child on Carmel beach as my mother would twirl through the tidepools and tell us for the ten thousanth time how she almost became a marine biologist but chose to dance instead.
The fog seemed to twirl and dance around the dramatic cliffs and bays of Tonsai as our longtail boat pulled out and back towards Krabi far far far too soon.
That morning a rock climber who walked as though it was a second home, sported a shirt that said
"I'm leaving Tonsai TOMMORROW!!!"
And on the back it said sheepishly smaller
... Maybe
I can see how this place swallows you and makes you never want to leave... That is... If YOU are one of US....
In Krabi, I checked my email and found a letter from my mother telling me about an artist she met in San Diego by chance.
He's an eccentric, wonderful, creative soul who not only offers to mentor my mom (a fairly new but phenomenally talented water color painter)... But she also has agreed to work with him in an altruistic endeavor to paint at the hospital with sick children.
I wrote her back, my heart nearly heaving with joy. How beautiful my mom found one of her people so quickly.
My parents spent the last few years in Moraga, Calfornia- on the 6th fairway of a private golf course county club. The air was thick with conservative, balding rich white republicans and my mom was literally short of breath the entire time. Her blood pressure rose.. Her sinuses shut down...
She lost her balance.
I know what that's like.
I too, need MY people... The people who go to Tonsai and rock climb and sit in tafee's bar and then retire to a rustic cabin early so they can be up for the magic of dawn.
Not the twenty somethings that invade Ko phangang and drunkenly dance to lady gaga with a bucket of vodka redbull in hand and wake up and noon in agony with the taste of vomit on their lips.
I say this and make it sound awful- but trust me it is fun. I recognize it. Partying is fun!
Just like my mom recognized that her golf course pear orchard valley home was beautiful... But at the end of the day... We are not able to balance the world when we are the only ones awake on the other side feeling suffocated by sleeping souls...
I need hippies.
I need awake, conscious, digging for deeper meaning in everything, yogis.
I need rock climbers and adventurers and shell collectors.
I need creators and writers.... Painters and poets...
I need witty, intelligent thinkers...
I need datenights that include raw foods and macadamia nut milk chai lathes and barefoot beach walks under the full moon.
I need deep breathers so that I can breathe deep too.
I need my breath to be deep so my thoughts can be light.
-------------
Bangkok
We checked into the Dang Derm Hotel on Khaosahn Road. The same place Jessica and I stayed earlier in the month.
It's reasonable, central, clean, big comfy beds, hot showers and has a rooftop pool.
All 3 of us slept in the king sized bed like we did in Bali too (me in the middle of course)
I love sitting 'bitch' in the car... I love being squished between love- for as long as I candelabra I've loved being squeezed between the mattress and a wall or in the crack of couch cushions.
I like being held.
I'm also the middle child.
This is also my friend nick's theory on why I wear so many bracelets and heavy necklaces and anklets... I'm apparently binding myself inside my skin. Otherwise I might float away into the ether.
I woke up safely in my ski. Wedged between two goddesses and we set off on another adventure.
We got in a tuktuk and I sat in the middle.
We tools longboat cruise down the the river- through the floating market- feeding the zillions of catfish with loaves of bread which made me nearly vomit it was so gross.
Finally our longtail boat dropped us at The Temple of Dawn... My favorite temple by far at this point.
We wandered and then returned to Khaosahn where I started gettin sick... Yet again.
Maybe this time it was a defense mechanism so I could sleep through Cary and Laura's departure and not have to deal with the ripping, tearing pain of parting ways with them.
Either that or the antibiotics and various medicines I have been on this month have wiped my immune system out.
I slept for 2 days in Bangkok, waking up to eat provoking yogurt and bananas....
I made it up to the pool for an hour and closed my eyes only to open them and find hundreds of dragon flies hovering above me.
I erupted into Uncontrollable laughter as I always do when I see dragonflies.
I came back to my room and took 108 conscious breaths... Deep, full, healing, conscious, cleansing breaths with my feet up the wall following my mala I just bought at the temple of dawn.
I kept thinking about burning man and how in just a few days my PEOPLE would be joining at the playa temple to celebrate life and love and art.
Why am I here? I thought....
'Because you have to be somewhere.' a little voice inside me replied.
That was a good enough answer for me for some reason.
Tomorrow night I fly to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a night and then back on to Padang and I'll be back in the Mentawais in less then a week.
I can hardly wait to feel that air... The water... The essence of those magical islands.
I plan to detox my body with lots of clear clean ocean air, healthy foods, yoga, meditation, breathing & resting.
And then I go to Australia. Soul sister Liz is totally my people.
Without a doubt she and I will explore the Tonsai/Big Sur/Topanga//Venice/Santa Cruz sides of Sydney....
Woo hoo
Monday, August 22, 2011
a quick trip to bali
The smell of the seafood fried rice being eaten by the new zealander in 28C permeated our air Asia flight and stung my nostrils...
A younger, less travelled version of zani might have thrown a fit and quite possibly thrown up...
But breathing through my mouth I just smiled and said ahhh-- how I love the aroma of southeast Asia. It stiiings the nostrils like champ's panther perfume that 65% of the time works every time...
And I laugh off the nausea bubbling in my stomach and look to my left and right, loosing myself in gratitude that my golden goddesses are here with me flying from Phuket to Bali after nearly 20 years of friendship and sisterhood.
Saying that, last night as cary, laura, our fairy godmother in thailand captain yogina and i sat at dinner in nai yang, Phuket - i found little dried shrimp in my green papaya salad and almost had a meltdown....
Almost.
Captain yogina was actually on the island earlier in the season as a surfing yogi guest at Togat Nusa retreat and just happened to be there the night I grandly and dramatically decided to become an aquatarian... (a fish eater)..
Back on the island (which feels like just yesterday and also a lifetime ago)... Caveman Cahn spearfished every day right in front of our island and we would sit out on the benches and talk about it-- the magic of diving and spearfishing.. He said he often preferred it to surfing as his personal religious church-like experience and daily communion within the tides... and THIS was coming from the caveman 'i break a surfboard a month and surf like it's my job' Cahn...
Shayno the pirate has recently said the same thing about spearfishing.
I, personally have never dived like this but from everything I hear, it's very much like yoga.. Pranayama, conscious breathing and centered single pointed focus dhyana... Like an underwater meditation.
I am planning to go watch and just practice being under water with Shayno when I come out in his boat next month... But no promises I will eat the fish he spears...
Cahn promised me he said blessings and gave thanks to the life of the fish before he would spear them-- and would only actually kill the fish if it was big enough and of eating quality... It was not a game or a sport- it was a meditation and an art and it was for a purpose.
And in all honesty, I enjoyed the garlic tuna or trevali Ruli would prepare with the freshly caught fish on the island...
But these little salted dried (perhaps canned) shrimp are worlds away from that and make my stomach turn... I can't help it....
Even between Captain yogina's giggles and taunts about my aquatarianism, I haven't been able to eat seafood since leaving the mentawais...
I am really excited to go back...
Cary, Laura and I are on this seafood smelling plane headed to Bali and I must say, filling out my immigrassi form I am already getting butterflies to return to this country I have fallen so in love with.
----
We arrived in Bali and were greeted outside the arrivals hall by a driver who whisked us away to Ubud.
We made our way up the island while I babbled on and on to our driver 'Made' becoming fast friends...
Pulling up a series of typical indonesian alleyways- floored by tarps of rice and various other drying goods, roosters wandering about... By Temple after magical Hindu temple tucked into every home and property... We finally pulled on to a manicured driveway an arrived at one of the most spectacular villas I've been to.
(and I've been to some epic ones)....
This open air chic Indonesian style villa unfolded out into an infinity pool that seemed to glisten as it poured itself out towards the sweeping panoramic view of ubud rice paddies and jungle...
A young looking blonde man emerged from the pool rather merman-like and grabbed a pool towel that was elegantly rolled on a brass platter next to the stairs.
He greeted us with warmth and kindness and I was introduced to Jamie, the son of our hostess, Jane.
Jane is a longlonglongtime family friend of the McCormicks... In fact, she introduced cary's parents. Another moment of realization that we wouldn't be here in this moment had it not been for....
Everything in life is showing itself to me in this way...
The giant cosmic reminders to be present and patient in moments of stress and irritation, because those moments will be stepping stones towards something we can't yet see in the future...
When we live in the city and work towards an end... A promotion, a paycheck, a bigger house, a "future"... This evolving growth is obvious and blatant, but when you float and drift... Live as a gypsy... Sometimes it's too hard to see a destination... Or find a means to an end before the end.
Why am I living the way I do?
Laura mentioned that she explained me to her new boyfriend as someone who doesn't really live anywhere... Just everywhere...
I like this. I really am living everywhere.
I am LIVING in each moment, each breath... Each swing of te pendulum from darkness to light, from adventure to adventure... Allowing myself to fall into destructive silly behavior to find myself returning to peace and light and yoga...
This makes me remember learning to rollerblade in the 2nd grade in Long Beach.
My dad took my sister and i to Lowell Elementary school (undoubtedly packed head to toe in protective gear at my sMother's demand)... Helmets, elbow pads, knee pads.
She was always scared we'd get hurt but my father would brush it off and "comeon son!" us daughters... Reminding us that we are Lebherz girls... The strongest and most resilient superhero humans on earth.
We practiced and fell.. And I can remember finding the asphalt of the playground so rough it rattled my brain in the helmet as my wheels rolled along the harsh ground.
It was like a machine gun shooting out from my in-line wheels.
...and then we hit the soft stuff... That poured concrete section of the playground that was like cruising across butter. I felt like an ice skater gliding along the road with ease.
But I knew that the road would get bumpy again up ahead so I just slowed down and smiled and enjoyed when it was soft.
It was worth the bumpy asphalt to get to this other section....
It hurt to fall on the rough part and was pretty okay when it was soft.
My dad taught us to dive into grass If it was nearby.
Slowly we were able to start ditching the elbow pads and had the competence to go rollerblading alone and unpaddes.
Now adays I am gliding around Asia on my metaphorical blades of bravery... I no longer wear a helmet (though my mother would probably be much happier if I was literally walking around bali in body armor)...
And sometimes I fall and sometimes it's bumpy but I always seem to find that soft patch of ground and keep my eyes open and a patch of grass nearby if I need to bail.
My parents taught me so well.
So did Laura's parents and so did Cary's...
One of the houseguests at Jane's villa, a wonderfully reflective upside down mirror of me, named Victoria... Said "wait! All three of you girls... All your parents are still married? How strange!"
It's true.
All three of us come from amazing stock, incredible breeding, strong values and Very close knit families who all love one another.
All 3 of us LOVE eccentric people and dinner parties with strangers and that's exactly what we experienced that night.
Jane came back from a two week dive trip and the entire boat (about 15 people) came for a dinner party our second night in Ubud.
I spent time talking to all of the guests- Jane's fabulous friends- who were truly "fabulous" in every sense of the word... All highly creative, very well to do, often "rah rah" world traveling adventurers with grand magical life stories to share.
Spending so much time with surfers, pirates, and gypsies over the last six months, It was a welcome change of pace to stay in this palace and shmooze and laugh and share stories with this group of people over vodka drinks. The jingle of Ice cubes clinking in glasses made a sort of harmony with the sound of wood bangles and bracelets dancing on the wrists of gesticulating story teller's.
(something we all know I'm a pro at)
At one point Jane asked us for help in the kitchen as her help had to leave early for the night. The three of us of course jumped up- well versed in the ways of assisting the parent's party!
Jane took my hand and led me right out of the kitchen and said "oh no darling. You're needed out here. You're an entertainer"
I was flattered and also slightly sad to not be in the kitchen with cary and Laura laughing and cleaning dishes, sipping cabernet with sudsy hands as we have done together so many times over the last few decades.
Laura said Later that night as we were cuddled on a chaise lounge next to an almost fully melted candle and arsenal of empty wine glasses, lounging together in the exhale of the dinnerparty... "nobody works a crowd like zani"
And again I felt this acknowledgment of who I am... Realizing how my path and past have carved out stepping stones to bring me to this current reality.
I am a gypsy hostess... A people person and an entertainer...
I truly love people. I love meeting and talking to and getting to know just about everyone on earth.
I think of myself a bit as a multifaceted crystal that can match a side of myself against almost anyone.
I'm an energetic chameleon.
And I'm trying to be an aquatarian.
This week has been phenomenal- standing in front of Cary and Laura- looking at myself in the non-threatening mirror and actually liking what I see...
I see the good and the bad and I love the all.
We made friends with elephants and rode through the sacred monkey forest--- we sipped wine and woke up at dawn to practice yoga over picturesque panoramas...
And then we loaded back up on to a seafood smelling plane and headed back to Thailand.
I am so happy my sisters got to see me in my country-- the place I feel so at home in- and in my element- entertaining in Indonesia and shrugging off the smell of canned dried shrimp and other unpleasant aromas.
I feel like I've grown up a lot in the last year- and so have Laura and Cary... We all understand life from a different and yet very similar perspective...
Next stop paradise for some goddess beach time in Ko phi phi.
A younger, less travelled version of zani might have thrown a fit and quite possibly thrown up...
But breathing through my mouth I just smiled and said ahhh-- how I love the aroma of southeast Asia. It stiiings the nostrils like champ's panther perfume that 65% of the time works every time...
And I laugh off the nausea bubbling in my stomach and look to my left and right, loosing myself in gratitude that my golden goddesses are here with me flying from Phuket to Bali after nearly 20 years of friendship and sisterhood.
Saying that, last night as cary, laura, our fairy godmother in thailand captain yogina and i sat at dinner in nai yang, Phuket - i found little dried shrimp in my green papaya salad and almost had a meltdown....
Almost.
Captain yogina was actually on the island earlier in the season as a surfing yogi guest at Togat Nusa retreat and just happened to be there the night I grandly and dramatically decided to become an aquatarian... (a fish eater)..
Back on the island (which feels like just yesterday and also a lifetime ago)... Caveman Cahn spearfished every day right in front of our island and we would sit out on the benches and talk about it-- the magic of diving and spearfishing.. He said he often preferred it to surfing as his personal religious church-like experience and daily communion within the tides... and THIS was coming from the caveman 'i break a surfboard a month and surf like it's my job' Cahn...
Shayno the pirate has recently said the same thing about spearfishing.
I, personally have never dived like this but from everything I hear, it's very much like yoga.. Pranayama, conscious breathing and centered single pointed focus dhyana... Like an underwater meditation.
I am planning to go watch and just practice being under water with Shayno when I come out in his boat next month... But no promises I will eat the fish he spears...
Cahn promised me he said blessings and gave thanks to the life of the fish before he would spear them-- and would only actually kill the fish if it was big enough and of eating quality... It was not a game or a sport- it was a meditation and an art and it was for a purpose.
And in all honesty, I enjoyed the garlic tuna or trevali Ruli would prepare with the freshly caught fish on the island...
But these little salted dried (perhaps canned) shrimp are worlds away from that and make my stomach turn... I can't help it....
Even between Captain yogina's giggles and taunts about my aquatarianism, I haven't been able to eat seafood since leaving the mentawais...
I am really excited to go back...
Cary, Laura and I are on this seafood smelling plane headed to Bali and I must say, filling out my immigrassi form I am already getting butterflies to return to this country I have fallen so in love with.
----
We arrived in Bali and were greeted outside the arrivals hall by a driver who whisked us away to Ubud.
We made our way up the island while I babbled on and on to our driver 'Made' becoming fast friends...
Pulling up a series of typical indonesian alleyways- floored by tarps of rice and various other drying goods, roosters wandering about... By Temple after magical Hindu temple tucked into every home and property... We finally pulled on to a manicured driveway an arrived at one of the most spectacular villas I've been to.
(and I've been to some epic ones)....
This open air chic Indonesian style villa unfolded out into an infinity pool that seemed to glisten as it poured itself out towards the sweeping panoramic view of ubud rice paddies and jungle...
A young looking blonde man emerged from the pool rather merman-like and grabbed a pool towel that was elegantly rolled on a brass platter next to the stairs.
He greeted us with warmth and kindness and I was introduced to Jamie, the son of our hostess, Jane.
Jane is a longlonglongtime family friend of the McCormicks... In fact, she introduced cary's parents. Another moment of realization that we wouldn't be here in this moment had it not been for....
Everything in life is showing itself to me in this way...
The giant cosmic reminders to be present and patient in moments of stress and irritation, because those moments will be stepping stones towards something we can't yet see in the future...
When we live in the city and work towards an end... A promotion, a paycheck, a bigger house, a "future"... This evolving growth is obvious and blatant, but when you float and drift... Live as a gypsy... Sometimes it's too hard to see a destination... Or find a means to an end before the end.
Why am I living the way I do?
Laura mentioned that she explained me to her new boyfriend as someone who doesn't really live anywhere... Just everywhere...
I like this. I really am living everywhere.
I am LIVING in each moment, each breath... Each swing of te pendulum from darkness to light, from adventure to adventure... Allowing myself to fall into destructive silly behavior to find myself returning to peace and light and yoga...
This makes me remember learning to rollerblade in the 2nd grade in Long Beach.
My dad took my sister and i to Lowell Elementary school (undoubtedly packed head to toe in protective gear at my sMother's demand)... Helmets, elbow pads, knee pads.
She was always scared we'd get hurt but my father would brush it off and "comeon son!" us daughters... Reminding us that we are Lebherz girls... The strongest and most resilient superhero humans on earth.
We practiced and fell.. And I can remember finding the asphalt of the playground so rough it rattled my brain in the helmet as my wheels rolled along the harsh ground.
It was like a machine gun shooting out from my in-line wheels.
...and then we hit the soft stuff... That poured concrete section of the playground that was like cruising across butter. I felt like an ice skater gliding along the road with ease.
But I knew that the road would get bumpy again up ahead so I just slowed down and smiled and enjoyed when it was soft.
It was worth the bumpy asphalt to get to this other section....
It hurt to fall on the rough part and was pretty okay when it was soft.
My dad taught us to dive into grass If it was nearby.
Slowly we were able to start ditching the elbow pads and had the competence to go rollerblading alone and unpaddes.
Now adays I am gliding around Asia on my metaphorical blades of bravery... I no longer wear a helmet (though my mother would probably be much happier if I was literally walking around bali in body armor)...
And sometimes I fall and sometimes it's bumpy but I always seem to find that soft patch of ground and keep my eyes open and a patch of grass nearby if I need to bail.
My parents taught me so well.
So did Laura's parents and so did Cary's...
One of the houseguests at Jane's villa, a wonderfully reflective upside down mirror of me, named Victoria... Said "wait! All three of you girls... All your parents are still married? How strange!"
It's true.
All three of us come from amazing stock, incredible breeding, strong values and Very close knit families who all love one another.
All 3 of us LOVE eccentric people and dinner parties with strangers and that's exactly what we experienced that night.
Jane came back from a two week dive trip and the entire boat (about 15 people) came for a dinner party our second night in Ubud.
I spent time talking to all of the guests- Jane's fabulous friends- who were truly "fabulous" in every sense of the word... All highly creative, very well to do, often "rah rah" world traveling adventurers with grand magical life stories to share.
Spending so much time with surfers, pirates, and gypsies over the last six months, It was a welcome change of pace to stay in this palace and shmooze and laugh and share stories with this group of people over vodka drinks. The jingle of Ice cubes clinking in glasses made a sort of harmony with the sound of wood bangles and bracelets dancing on the wrists of gesticulating story teller's.
(something we all know I'm a pro at)
At one point Jane asked us for help in the kitchen as her help had to leave early for the night. The three of us of course jumped up- well versed in the ways of assisting the parent's party!
Jane took my hand and led me right out of the kitchen and said "oh no darling. You're needed out here. You're an entertainer"
I was flattered and also slightly sad to not be in the kitchen with cary and Laura laughing and cleaning dishes, sipping cabernet with sudsy hands as we have done together so many times over the last few decades.
Laura said Later that night as we were cuddled on a chaise lounge next to an almost fully melted candle and arsenal of empty wine glasses, lounging together in the exhale of the dinnerparty... "nobody works a crowd like zani"
And again I felt this acknowledgment of who I am... Realizing how my path and past have carved out stepping stones to bring me to this current reality.
I am a gypsy hostess... A people person and an entertainer...
I truly love people. I love meeting and talking to and getting to know just about everyone on earth.
I think of myself a bit as a multifaceted crystal that can match a side of myself against almost anyone.
I'm an energetic chameleon.
And I'm trying to be an aquatarian.
This week has been phenomenal- standing in front of Cary and Laura- looking at myself in the non-threatening mirror and actually liking what I see...
I see the good and the bad and I love the all.
We made friends with elephants and rode through the sacred monkey forest--- we sipped wine and woke up at dawn to practice yoga over picturesque panoramas...
And then we loaded back up on to a seafood smelling plane and headed back to Thailand.
I am so happy my sisters got to see me in my country-- the place I feel so at home in- and in my element- entertaining in Indonesia and shrugging off the smell of canned dried shrimp and other unpleasant aromas.
I feel like I've grown up a lot in the last year- and so have Laura and Cary... We all understand life from a different and yet very similar perspective...
Next stop paradise for some goddess beach time in Ko phi phi.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
happening.
today i met sister spirit melanie, the south african gypsy goddess i know without the shadow of a doubt i will meet again.
we sat and talked for hours about yoga and teaching and traveling... she shared stories about India and her last six months there alone as a solo yogi woman.
I was filled with fortuitous flutters and realized that i will be in rishikesh for 11.11.11 which is blowing my mind.
A huge kundalini festival with many teachers & kirtanwallas i know or have studied from will be there celebrating this magical date.
this afternoon in shanti lodge on my favorite little couch spot, spirit sister melanie said the words "eleven eleven eleven" just as i turned my wrist to stretch my fingers back (relieving the cramps from the 9,000 arm balances i did at Yoga Elements this morning)... my wrist proudly displaying my burnt sienna tattoo of an OM inside a fish capped by 11: 11 as she said thos words.
I could hear Josh Hogan's voice in my inner monolouge saying "pshh. well THAT's happening. You gotta go there Zani."
things are seriously happening right now.
maybe it's that i have thrown myself back into a strong asana practice... maybe it's being alone again... maybe its the magic elephant with its trunk up carved in silver on my new thumb ring jecca bought me her last night in bangkok... maybe its just the power of the full moon that just passed as the infection in my kidneys died off and my health began to blossom again as i detox myself with raw foods and juices and hot chilis.
...but things are definitely happening. shifting. preparing.
holy shit. holy shit. i am actually really and truly GOING to India. I am meeting Aaron Glass and friends. ha. (that's his band name)... after he comes back out of Nepal and finds me in the North of India.
Finally clear intentions from this fantasy we created on the front porch of the red house in Santa Cruz the very first night we met in these bodies last year.
it just makes so much sense and seems like such a no brainer that aaron would be there by my side as i explore the country that has called me the loudest my entire life.
aaron is that way... he's a soul parter to everyone. i cannot wait for this adventure
Last night after my adventure in lesson land with the Japanese yogi ninja Tommy... i found myself back in my couch at Shanti Lodge hanging out with Julien, my new Swiss/French friend.
I had just emailed Birdie, my island brother moments before Julien walked into my existance...
Birdie is in Zurich right now raving in the streets - he sends me the odd update on his european mayhem adventure and we continue our brother sister witty banter across the continents. i <3 him so hard.
i really hope we will get to see each other when i go through australia next month, if he's back from Switzerland.
Swiss-born Julien has also just arrived in Bangkok from India, like Melanie. He bought a motorcycle and cruised all over the country for months. He shared photos and stories... giving me names and numbers of his family of awesome people out in India...
Then we swapped music.
(a big thing for both of us, i could tell.)
He gave me a ton of German house and beats that i could only see David Block's face melting over...
I returned the gift with David Block's own music "The Human Experience" and various other whompy songs i thought he would get into.
I talked to Brent about 15 times throughout the night... twice after i was completely fully asleep. He was wasted in Padang... making his plans to head back to America after his boat sunk... twice.
I can hardly believe that the Nyangnyang Hujan is dead.
I loved that boat.
It brought me to the Mentawais for the very first time last May with Erin... and was my chariot as we departed with Jessica and Shayno, exiting the islands for the season this year, two weeks ago.
Brent is such a good friend to me and always has been. He is truly my big brother.
I used to say he is "like my brother" now i just say he IS my brother.
I heard him garbling Indonesian to people at Fella's on the other end of the phone all night and again, it made me miss Indo so much.
When i was talking to my yoga teacher from yesterday, Cerissa... she talked about Thailand and her connection there in the same way that i feel about Indonesia.
I had no idea that this was going to happen... this love affair with the country... but its there and i can't imagine living my life at very least part-time in Indo forever.
This morning, my arm balance mania Hanuman inspired yoga class i took (that KICKED my ass by the way)... taught by a wonderful teacher named Shayne... ended with this incredible guided meditation in Savasana...
She talked about the tantric belief that there is a space in the heart that holds a wishing tree.
As she said those words i immediately transported to the secret beachie break we go to with special guests... There is this incredible magnificent tree that is covered in moss and plants and looks like something out of a sci-fi movie...
Birdie told me the first time we went there together that it was a wishing tree, and every time i have sat up in those branches i have made a wish.
This morning as i lay there with eyes closed on the 23rd floor in Bangkok in corpse pose, letting the effects of the intensely challanging practice sink in, my soul seemed to linger lightly inside my body & i felt a powerful transportation to the wishing tree on Sipura Island. I saw it clearly in my third eye and i felt exactly what the moment felt like... smelled like... tasted like...
and i wrapped myself around the tree...
and i wished.
I wished for something that i didn't really know i wanted...
I wished for true love.
HA.
Here i am this totally insanely independant mermaid woman charging around the world with my entire life on my back and hanging off my arms... insisting to go it alone... a total commitment-phobe divorcee that runs in the oposite direction when a wave comes... (literally and metaphorically... surfing and in relationships)...
and then...
i wished for a wave.
maybe i am ready to catch a wave and commit to it.
ya.
whoa.
i talked to joshie about this recently by email.
He has overcome the fears and phobias and fallen into a relationship after divorcing his wife and figuring out how to let himself be vulnerable again... so i'm inspired and i really do think maybe i'm ready too.
i can DO this. i can open my heart (like Hanuman) and reveal whats inside... the fears, the baggage and the enormous amount of love and light too.
like the tracy chapman song i fell asleep to for the last month on the island...
"i'm ready... i'm ready... to let the rivers wash over me.... if it's love... flowin freely... i'm ready."
well.. i think, anyways.
i climbed aboard the overnight train to Surat Thani on platform 11 and found my seat beside a european couple - Boris and Raul from France and Spain, though they live Little India in Paris. At first i couldn't tell if they were just effeminate europeans or a couple - but as the night went on i determined that they were certainly lovers.
We talked in an english/french/spanish campur mix up and laughed for a few hours and then the incredibly pissed-off-looking train attendant came by and converted our seats into beds.
This was so amazing i can't even tell you.
The train was fully converted into bunk beds with curtains... and COMFY beds - i mean... better then some i've slept on in hotels out here... clean, pressed white linens and pillows and blankets. Everything was imaculate and wonderful.
I slept really well despite the head cold i have picked up.
My new friend Boris gave me a french decongestant but it was to no avail. (We were hoping it was just allergies and not a full-on head cold)... but i think that because i am still on antibiotics from the kidney infection, i have no antibodies to fight off little stuff like this cold.
it's okay. i haven't sniffled in a long time, so i don't mind too much.
I thought about how healthy i have been out in the islands of Indonesia... out there in the ring of fire where there is every kind of weird infection and disease ever... and i stayed SO well. I think this was a sign that it was supposed to be my home. it's this city garbage that will kill you.
I lay in my bed on the train and smiled the biggest smile in the dark of the night, like a giddy little kid.
i just L.O.V.E. trains. they are so... romantic.
I started to fantasize romance and epic love tales to come... i thought about how i can make manifest whatever i want at this point, since i have proved it to myself to be possible already.
LOOK! I am in Thailand!
I wrote on a post-it several years ago my top 5 places i wanted to go... Thailand was #1. Here i am. I just DID it.
NO FEAR.
So, i know that i can do this in all aspects of life... just make it real and DO IT.
Spencie used to say "Don't talk about it. BE about it."
and Surf Guidess Jen in Balian says "Don't think... Just DO."
It's so much easier said then done when fear is pinning you down in your seat, but once you are flying... riding down a traintrack in Thailand dreaming of what might/could/will happen when you arrive in the next 3 international cities you have on your agenda... the people who will be waiting for you... the opportunity to fall in love - with everyone, everything.... it's mind blowing and so exciting... it's giddy-making.
The grumpy Thai train attendant flung open the curtain at 6am and signaled that i get up so he could readjust my bed back into seats. The euros had gotten off around 3am. Boris flung back my curtain in the dark and blew me a huge kiss before he and his partner skipped off towards the islands... i love them and send them blessings always.
I realized that once again i was alone as i stood out of the way and watched the transformer train go to work.
The attendant's shirt had 1111 written on the back with some Thai charecters before and after.
Pshhh. Im not even surprised.
Things are happening.
p.s. Phuket rules.
Brent pointed out how spoiled i am when he called me for the thirtieth time today and i told him i was lying by the empty pool at the yacht haven marina in phuket while gina was working on her superyacht.
happening.
we sat and talked for hours about yoga and teaching and traveling... she shared stories about India and her last six months there alone as a solo yogi woman.
I was filled with fortuitous flutters and realized that i will be in rishikesh for 11.11.11 which is blowing my mind.
A huge kundalini festival with many teachers & kirtanwallas i know or have studied from will be there celebrating this magical date.
this afternoon in shanti lodge on my favorite little couch spot, spirit sister melanie said the words "eleven eleven eleven" just as i turned my wrist to stretch my fingers back (relieving the cramps from the 9,000 arm balances i did at Yoga Elements this morning)... my wrist proudly displaying my burnt sienna tattoo of an OM inside a fish capped by 11: 11 as she said thos words.
I could hear Josh Hogan's voice in my inner monolouge saying "pshh. well THAT's happening. You gotta go there Zani."
things are seriously happening right now.
maybe it's that i have thrown myself back into a strong asana practice... maybe it's being alone again... maybe its the magic elephant with its trunk up carved in silver on my new thumb ring jecca bought me her last night in bangkok... maybe its just the power of the full moon that just passed as the infection in my kidneys died off and my health began to blossom again as i detox myself with raw foods and juices and hot chilis.
...but things are definitely happening. shifting. preparing.
holy shit. holy shit. i am actually really and truly GOING to India. I am meeting Aaron Glass and friends. ha. (that's his band name)... after he comes back out of Nepal and finds me in the North of India.
Finally clear intentions from this fantasy we created on the front porch of the red house in Santa Cruz the very first night we met in these bodies last year.
it just makes so much sense and seems like such a no brainer that aaron would be there by my side as i explore the country that has called me the loudest my entire life.
aaron is that way... he's a soul parter to everyone. i cannot wait for this adventure
Last night after my adventure in lesson land with the Japanese yogi ninja Tommy... i found myself back in my couch at Shanti Lodge hanging out with Julien, my new Swiss/French friend.
I had just emailed Birdie, my island brother moments before Julien walked into my existance...
Birdie is in Zurich right now raving in the streets - he sends me the odd update on his european mayhem adventure and we continue our brother sister witty banter across the continents. i <3 him so hard.
i really hope we will get to see each other when i go through australia next month, if he's back from Switzerland.
Swiss-born Julien has also just arrived in Bangkok from India, like Melanie. He bought a motorcycle and cruised all over the country for months. He shared photos and stories... giving me names and numbers of his family of awesome people out in India...
Then we swapped music.
(a big thing for both of us, i could tell.)
He gave me a ton of German house and beats that i could only see David Block's face melting over...
I returned the gift with David Block's own music "The Human Experience" and various other whompy songs i thought he would get into.
I talked to Brent about 15 times throughout the night... twice after i was completely fully asleep. He was wasted in Padang... making his plans to head back to America after his boat sunk... twice.
I can hardly believe that the Nyangnyang Hujan is dead.
I loved that boat.
It brought me to the Mentawais for the very first time last May with Erin... and was my chariot as we departed with Jessica and Shayno, exiting the islands for the season this year, two weeks ago.
Brent is such a good friend to me and always has been. He is truly my big brother.
I used to say he is "like my brother" now i just say he IS my brother.
I heard him garbling Indonesian to people at Fella's on the other end of the phone all night and again, it made me miss Indo so much.
When i was talking to my yoga teacher from yesterday, Cerissa... she talked about Thailand and her connection there in the same way that i feel about Indonesia.
I had no idea that this was going to happen... this love affair with the country... but its there and i can't imagine living my life at very least part-time in Indo forever.
This morning, my arm balance mania Hanuman inspired yoga class i took (that KICKED my ass by the way)... taught by a wonderful teacher named Shayne... ended with this incredible guided meditation in Savasana...
She talked about the tantric belief that there is a space in the heart that holds a wishing tree.
As she said those words i immediately transported to the secret beachie break we go to with special guests... There is this incredible magnificent tree that is covered in moss and plants and looks like something out of a sci-fi movie...
Birdie told me the first time we went there together that it was a wishing tree, and every time i have sat up in those branches i have made a wish.
This morning as i lay there with eyes closed on the 23rd floor in Bangkok in corpse pose, letting the effects of the intensely challanging practice sink in, my soul seemed to linger lightly inside my body & i felt a powerful transportation to the wishing tree on Sipura Island. I saw it clearly in my third eye and i felt exactly what the moment felt like... smelled like... tasted like...
and i wrapped myself around the tree...
and i wished.
I wished for something that i didn't really know i wanted...
I wished for true love.
HA.
Here i am this totally insanely independant mermaid woman charging around the world with my entire life on my back and hanging off my arms... insisting to go it alone... a total commitment-phobe divorcee that runs in the oposite direction when a wave comes... (literally and metaphorically... surfing and in relationships)...
and then...
i wished for a wave.
maybe i am ready to catch a wave and commit to it.
ya.
whoa.
i talked to joshie about this recently by email.
He has overcome the fears and phobias and fallen into a relationship after divorcing his wife and figuring out how to let himself be vulnerable again... so i'm inspired and i really do think maybe i'm ready too.
i can DO this. i can open my heart (like Hanuman) and reveal whats inside... the fears, the baggage and the enormous amount of love and light too.
like the tracy chapman song i fell asleep to for the last month on the island...
"i'm ready... i'm ready... to let the rivers wash over me.... if it's love... flowin freely... i'm ready."
well.. i think, anyways.
i climbed aboard the overnight train to Surat Thani on platform 11 and found my seat beside a european couple - Boris and Raul from France and Spain, though they live Little India in Paris. At first i couldn't tell if they were just effeminate europeans or a couple - but as the night went on i determined that they were certainly lovers.
We talked in an english/french/spanish campur mix up and laughed for a few hours and then the incredibly pissed-off-looking train attendant came by and converted our seats into beds.
This was so amazing i can't even tell you.
The train was fully converted into bunk beds with curtains... and COMFY beds - i mean... better then some i've slept on in hotels out here... clean, pressed white linens and pillows and blankets. Everything was imaculate and wonderful.
I slept really well despite the head cold i have picked up.
My new friend Boris gave me a french decongestant but it was to no avail. (We were hoping it was just allergies and not a full-on head cold)... but i think that because i am still on antibiotics from the kidney infection, i have no antibodies to fight off little stuff like this cold.
it's okay. i haven't sniffled in a long time, so i don't mind too much.
I thought about how healthy i have been out in the islands of Indonesia... out there in the ring of fire where there is every kind of weird infection and disease ever... and i stayed SO well. I think this was a sign that it was supposed to be my home. it's this city garbage that will kill you.
I lay in my bed on the train and smiled the biggest smile in the dark of the night, like a giddy little kid.
i just L.O.V.E. trains. they are so... romantic.
I started to fantasize romance and epic love tales to come... i thought about how i can make manifest whatever i want at this point, since i have proved it to myself to be possible already.
LOOK! I am in Thailand!
I wrote on a post-it several years ago my top 5 places i wanted to go... Thailand was #1. Here i am. I just DID it.
NO FEAR.
So, i know that i can do this in all aspects of life... just make it real and DO IT.
Spencie used to say "Don't talk about it. BE about it."
and Surf Guidess Jen in Balian says "Don't think... Just DO."
It's so much easier said then done when fear is pinning you down in your seat, but once you are flying... riding down a traintrack in Thailand dreaming of what might/could/will happen when you arrive in the next 3 international cities you have on your agenda... the people who will be waiting for you... the opportunity to fall in love - with everyone, everything.... it's mind blowing and so exciting... it's giddy-making.
The grumpy Thai train attendant flung open the curtain at 6am and signaled that i get up so he could readjust my bed back into seats. The euros had gotten off around 3am. Boris flung back my curtain in the dark and blew me a huge kiss before he and his partner skipped off towards the islands... i love them and send them blessings always.
I realized that once again i was alone as i stood out of the way and watched the transformer train go to work.
The attendant's shirt had 1111 written on the back with some Thai charecters before and after.
Pshhh. Im not even surprised.
Things are happening.
p.s. Phuket rules.
Brent pointed out how spoiled i am when he called me for the thirtieth time today and i told him i was lying by the empty pool at the yacht haven marina in phuket while gina was working on her superyacht.
happening.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
standing room only.
where do i stand?
being a dreamer... living this dream... sometimes my eyes flutter open for just a moment and i see myself standing somewhere in reality wondering how i got there and what the other dream walkers around me are seeing when the look in my eyes.
where is my place in THIS reality?
today i woke up at shanti lodge and made a checklist of things i needed to complete before leaving bangkok tomorrow night on an overnight coach to phuket to stay with the yogini surf sister, captain gina.
So, i took my laptop down into the cute little restaurant vibe and got to work.
My friend who's name i don't know said to me "aww.. that's your spot! we should put your name on that couch." it's really comfy and has lots of throw pillows (ainsley style)...
I had a surge of full moon energy and just went for it. BAM. i booked my ticket to India.
HOLY SHIT. i am going.
i made plans for australia next... shuffling dates and times, to coincide with my india flight from KL... Working out plans with all my friends in Sydney and to the north... and then frustrated and feeling like i needed oxygen, i closed my laptop and stood up to go for a walk and find a yoga studio...
Just before i took off, i started talking to an american man who lives in shanghai and is visiting bangkok for a few days on business. Within ten minutes he offered me a job in Guatamala - doing what i do in the Mentawais at a guest house vibe somewhat like a backpackers haven on a lake. He told me that one time his friend got a job offer on a train in europe and she ended up going for it and having the best career of her life from one train convo.
He said he felt like i belonged in Guatamala with these yogis and he knew they would hire me without batting an eye.
I thanked him for the compliment and said "maybe in two years, when i make it to the South American circuit."
I took his info and started walking away.
I wandered in a straight-ish line towards what i assumed would be the downtown district of Bangkok.
it started to rain so i jumed in a taxi and ended up in the Beverly Hills of Bangkok on the 23rd floor of the Chitlom Central Center at Yoga Elements Studio.
A beautiful little zen zone tucked up in the clouds above the business area of downtown Bangkok.
I paid 500 Baht and signed up for the next class, which was to begin in an hour.
I took the elevator down to the shopping center below - a huge department store with every kind of food and import, including a Marks & Spencers.
It somehow made my heart warm to see American products on shelves for some reason.
And when i saw baked lays, it was an obvious decision to break my traditional pre-practice fast and chow a big bag of my favorite crunchy snack of all time.
I paid 150 Baht for the bag of chips and then found a bench out front out of the rain and out of the AC which makes my throat hurt... i realized i was sitting on the valet waiting bench smack between a poor Thai woman wearing rags selling some kind of tickets out of what looked like an old cigar box.
(btw - i see this all over Asia and have no idea what it is... maybe lottery tickets)
i dunno.
Anyways - she was to my right and to my left between me and the sliding doors into Central Chidlom Shopping Center was a sleek, beautiful Asian woman in a black pantsuit, stiletto heels and sunglasses, perched on the edge of a bench like she fell out of a magazine and into real life.
The doors that were sliding open and shut had a screened advertizement printed across them that said
____________
GLAMOUR
60 yrs of Italian Fashion
an exhibition
6th floor
_____________
A black embassy limo pulled up and a western family piled out and up through the GLAMOUR doors.
I thought about my mom and how she must have lived like that being the daughter of a diplomat in Southeast Asia and South America.
A few moments later a silver mercedes pulled up and another model-esque Asian woman tossed her keys to the valet boys as her twin 2 yr old daughters squirmed out of their car seats in the back and shuffled up through the GLAMOUR doors in high heeled jelly shoes. (i would have DIED for these when i was 2)
I started missing home a little (a world much closer to this GLAMOUR side and reminiscent of this world).. and thinking of my mom who recently sent me a mean email essentially calling me a hussy for posting a picture on facebook of my new tattoo on my ribcage.
I got so hurt and sad and totally demoralized when i read her short, judgy email.
I felt like a delinquent child of some kind.
totally disempowered.
I thought in a very pouty, childish way... FINE. i will just de-friend her on facebook. i am not living for her. this is MY life!
i am a fully grown woman bravely charging it alone in a huge Asian metropolis. I am no child!
I am standing on MY own two feet.
Just then a child screamed in english "MOMMY!!"
and my heart melted.
I remembered when i was around 14 yrs old and decided i wanted to be super cool and call my mom by her first name.
She cried and told me i was one of three people in the world that could call her Mommy and please to never stop.
I wish she could see my now... between these two worlds... literally.
Yesterday, my friend Sam Prem from the Koh Sahn Road took me to eat spicy rice soup in a back alleyway off the main drag... It was all thais. No westerners but me. He ordered vegetarian for me in Thai and they all confusedly giggled.
Our entire lunch was about 40 Baht.
Sam said he exists on 300 Baht a day MAX including everything including room and board. (about 10 dollars)
And there i was today sitting on that valet bench eating my bag of 150 Baht baked lays.
Jessica spent 11,000 Baht on our room for one night in Koh Phangang and my yoga class was 500 Baht.
I am very lucky.
I really know how to live in both these worlds to my left and to my right.
Maybe this time is just about not worrying WHERE i stand, but learning how to stand in either world - in all worlds...no matter the circumstance.
just stand in my power and be... me.
But still... before i stood up from the bench I asked myself where I stood.
Moments later was standing in the yoga studio lobby again waiting for class to start, jotting down these thoughts on my little pad of paper and pen... Scribbling away these ponderings...
When all of a sudden a big bright light of an energy bounded in the room and found a space next to me i the lobby.
I didn't look up or break stride with my pen.
He waited a moment and then began talking to the top of my head anyways.
"are you a student or a writer?" the voice said through a thick accent.
I looked up to see a 30something round Japanese face with spiky hair and a huge grin.
"a writer" I replied quickly and dove back into my sentence that was itching to escape my fingertips.
"and a yogi too?"
I looked up and smiled nodding.
His eyes were so available- he wanted my story as badly as I wanted to write it.. So I closed my book and gave him zani's life cliff notes version in the five minutes or so before it was time to start practice.
We walked into the studio together and put our mats down next to one another.
I had no idea what to expect from this class and hadn't even really given it so much as a moment's thought before i was there and the door was closing signaling the start of practice.
A tall American woman with fire engine red hair and venice beach energy glided into the room and scanned us students for new faces.
she looked to me and said hello and asked what kind of yoga I usually practice.
I said every style but I prefer vinyasa flow.
My new friend and mat neighbor Tommy perked up eagerly, interjecting "she is a yoga instructor too! She lives in indonesia."
I laughed and nodded and then took child's pose.
It was only in that moment that i realized HOLY SHIT. this is my first class in a proper yoga studio like this in almost 6 months! i felt a lump in my throat.
I was hOMe.
I stood in tadasana and felt a waterfall of rose water rush over my head, like a baptism... like a big, huge universal reminder...
where do you stand?
ZANI!
are you kidding?
you stand on a yoga mat... upon a tye dye yogitoes SKIDLESS that you helped design - that you created the packaging for and worked with the factory getting labdips and testing for...
you are an artist and a yogi and a teacher.. but most of all... you are a student!
i hadn't been a proper student in so long it was overwhelming by the end of class. i was so close to tears in savasana, and jumped up after chanting OM and bowing with a namaste to this phenominal teacher named Cerissa... and hugged her.
We both got goosebumps and talked at length after class before i took the elevator down the 23 floors in a state of sweaty bliss euphoria... the post-yoga glow glowing HARD off my skin.
Then came a series of big ass universal reminders.
A slew of things that are just so damn easy to forget and so incredible to be reminded.
My new friend Tommy, the Japanese yoga ninja in Bangkok reminded me of so many things as we shared a fried rice after class and then walked across the sky train platforms to Central World to try and get my ipod.
(I dropped it there a week ago and have been having SUCH a pain in the ass getting it back.)
As we walked around downtown Bangkok with mats slung over our shoulders, Tommy asked me
"Zani... why do you teach yoga?"
I didn't even have to think about it. i just gestured with my hands all around my body - THIS! THIS! i want to share THIS love... THIS energy with as many people as possible.
I want to help open the lotus bulbs like Sam and I did at the Jade Buddha temple yesterday.
I want to show other people how to wake up and see how beautiful life is... through THIS post-practice paradigm.
We got to the mac store and very quickly my energy started to evaporate into frustration with the Thai wanna-be mac store people - totally not understanding anything about customer service and screwing me over just like i would expect to be by a street vendor, but not by the team of mac people wearing matching apple shirts in a cloned store of the one on the thrid street promenade in Santa Monica.
I almost got angry.
Tommy put his hand on mine and looked in my eyes and told me "it's all about energy control, Zani. Remember? This is a Buddhist country. They don't want to waste their energy on anger."
I thought about America and how its a competition for who has a bigger gun... a louded scream... the more intimidating one wins.... like in a looney toons where each character pulls out a bigger mallet to smash the other one.
Here, when people get angry and go off, the Thai people don't want to deal with you.
But if you show your heart, they show theirs and the softer heart wins.
I softened my heart and smiled at the team of Apple store employees and told them it was okay. I thanked them in Thai "kob kun kaa"
They asked me to wait. (for a change...) as if i wasnt expecting to sit there for another hour while they shuffled around pretending to be busy or something.
Tommy sat with me at the counter and kept on reminding me of the things i was needed to hear.
He said "never be attached. Even if there is a 'guarantee' in Thailand... It's a third world country dressed up in first world costumes. Remember aparigrapha? Non-attachment? This is where we practice the yoga!" he said winking at me.
Right then and there I threw my hands up and totally let go. surrendered to not ever having an I-thing again... And bam. literally - within two minutes of that moment, the little Thai girl helping me walked up and handed me a new one.
"This is very surprising. This is surely a magical day." Tommy said. "A very special, very very special day, Zani. This is your magic day!"
He went on... "You came to Cerissa's class. She is the best teacher in Bangkok and you walked in with no expectation. You didn't know anything. Look how amazing it was. Then you come here and remember! The universe keeps showing us these lessons."
Tommy and I stood from the counter and thanked the Thailanders dressed as third street promenaders graciously and then walked out of the maze that is "Central World, Bangkok."
We stood on the corner and hailed me a taxi, exchanging emails for the next time i came to Thailand so we could practice some more magic.
I placed my hands together in the prayer position and bowed to my new friend.
This symbol of humility and humbleness.
I was reminded of this so many times today.
So i think i found where i stand.
I stand in my yoga..
uniting two worlds...
yoking the poles...
standing here on the equator...
with humble gratitude and humility.
NAMASTE.
being a dreamer... living this dream... sometimes my eyes flutter open for just a moment and i see myself standing somewhere in reality wondering how i got there and what the other dream walkers around me are seeing when the look in my eyes.
where is my place in THIS reality?
today i woke up at shanti lodge and made a checklist of things i needed to complete before leaving bangkok tomorrow night on an overnight coach to phuket to stay with the yogini surf sister, captain gina.
So, i took my laptop down into the cute little restaurant vibe and got to work.
My friend who's name i don't know said to me "aww.. that's your spot! we should put your name on that couch." it's really comfy and has lots of throw pillows (ainsley style)...
I had a surge of full moon energy and just went for it. BAM. i booked my ticket to India.
HOLY SHIT. i am going.
i made plans for australia next... shuffling dates and times, to coincide with my india flight from KL... Working out plans with all my friends in Sydney and to the north... and then frustrated and feeling like i needed oxygen, i closed my laptop and stood up to go for a walk and find a yoga studio...
Just before i took off, i started talking to an american man who lives in shanghai and is visiting bangkok for a few days on business. Within ten minutes he offered me a job in Guatamala - doing what i do in the Mentawais at a guest house vibe somewhat like a backpackers haven on a lake. He told me that one time his friend got a job offer on a train in europe and she ended up going for it and having the best career of her life from one train convo.
He said he felt like i belonged in Guatamala with these yogis and he knew they would hire me without batting an eye.
I thanked him for the compliment and said "maybe in two years, when i make it to the South American circuit."
I took his info and started walking away.
I wandered in a straight-ish line towards what i assumed would be the downtown district of Bangkok.
it started to rain so i jumed in a taxi and ended up in the Beverly Hills of Bangkok on the 23rd floor of the Chitlom Central Center at Yoga Elements Studio.
A beautiful little zen zone tucked up in the clouds above the business area of downtown Bangkok.
I paid 500 Baht and signed up for the next class, which was to begin in an hour.
I took the elevator down to the shopping center below - a huge department store with every kind of food and import, including a Marks & Spencers.
It somehow made my heart warm to see American products on shelves for some reason.
And when i saw baked lays, it was an obvious decision to break my traditional pre-practice fast and chow a big bag of my favorite crunchy snack of all time.
I paid 150 Baht for the bag of chips and then found a bench out front out of the rain and out of the AC which makes my throat hurt... i realized i was sitting on the valet waiting bench smack between a poor Thai woman wearing rags selling some kind of tickets out of what looked like an old cigar box.
(btw - i see this all over Asia and have no idea what it is... maybe lottery tickets)
i dunno.
Anyways - she was to my right and to my left between me and the sliding doors into Central Chidlom Shopping Center was a sleek, beautiful Asian woman in a black pantsuit, stiletto heels and sunglasses, perched on the edge of a bench like she fell out of a magazine and into real life.
The doors that were sliding open and shut had a screened advertizement printed across them that said
____________
GLAMOUR
60 yrs of Italian Fashion
an exhibition
6th floor
_____________
A black embassy limo pulled up and a western family piled out and up through the GLAMOUR doors.
I thought about my mom and how she must have lived like that being the daughter of a diplomat in Southeast Asia and South America.
A few moments later a silver mercedes pulled up and another model-esque Asian woman tossed her keys to the valet boys as her twin 2 yr old daughters squirmed out of their car seats in the back and shuffled up through the GLAMOUR doors in high heeled jelly shoes. (i would have DIED for these when i was 2)
I started missing home a little (a world much closer to this GLAMOUR side and reminiscent of this world).. and thinking of my mom who recently sent me a mean email essentially calling me a hussy for posting a picture on facebook of my new tattoo on my ribcage.
I got so hurt and sad and totally demoralized when i read her short, judgy email.
I felt like a delinquent child of some kind.
totally disempowered.
I thought in a very pouty, childish way... FINE. i will just de-friend her on facebook. i am not living for her. this is MY life!
i am a fully grown woman bravely charging it alone in a huge Asian metropolis. I am no child!
I am standing on MY own two feet.
Just then a child screamed in english "MOMMY!!"
and my heart melted.
I remembered when i was around 14 yrs old and decided i wanted to be super cool and call my mom by her first name.
She cried and told me i was one of three people in the world that could call her Mommy and please to never stop.
I wish she could see my now... between these two worlds... literally.
Yesterday, my friend Sam Prem from the Koh Sahn Road took me to eat spicy rice soup in a back alleyway off the main drag... It was all thais. No westerners but me. He ordered vegetarian for me in Thai and they all confusedly giggled.
Our entire lunch was about 40 Baht.
Sam said he exists on 300 Baht a day MAX including everything including room and board. (about 10 dollars)
And there i was today sitting on that valet bench eating my bag of 150 Baht baked lays.
Jessica spent 11,000 Baht on our room for one night in Koh Phangang and my yoga class was 500 Baht.
I am very lucky.
I really know how to live in both these worlds to my left and to my right.
Maybe this time is just about not worrying WHERE i stand, but learning how to stand in either world - in all worlds...no matter the circumstance.
just stand in my power and be... me.
But still... before i stood up from the bench I asked myself where I stood.
Moments later was standing in the yoga studio lobby again waiting for class to start, jotting down these thoughts on my little pad of paper and pen... Scribbling away these ponderings...
When all of a sudden a big bright light of an energy bounded in the room and found a space next to me i the lobby.
I didn't look up or break stride with my pen.
He waited a moment and then began talking to the top of my head anyways.
"are you a student or a writer?" the voice said through a thick accent.
I looked up to see a 30something round Japanese face with spiky hair and a huge grin.
"a writer" I replied quickly and dove back into my sentence that was itching to escape my fingertips.
"and a yogi too?"
I looked up and smiled nodding.
His eyes were so available- he wanted my story as badly as I wanted to write it.. So I closed my book and gave him zani's life cliff notes version in the five minutes or so before it was time to start practice.
We walked into the studio together and put our mats down next to one another.
I had no idea what to expect from this class and hadn't even really given it so much as a moment's thought before i was there and the door was closing signaling the start of practice.
A tall American woman with fire engine red hair and venice beach energy glided into the room and scanned us students for new faces.
she looked to me and said hello and asked what kind of yoga I usually practice.
I said every style but I prefer vinyasa flow.
My new friend and mat neighbor Tommy perked up eagerly, interjecting "she is a yoga instructor too! She lives in indonesia."
I laughed and nodded and then took child's pose.
It was only in that moment that i realized HOLY SHIT. this is my first class in a proper yoga studio like this in almost 6 months! i felt a lump in my throat.
I was hOMe.
I stood in tadasana and felt a waterfall of rose water rush over my head, like a baptism... like a big, huge universal reminder...
where do you stand?
ZANI!
are you kidding?
you stand on a yoga mat... upon a tye dye yogitoes SKIDLESS that you helped design - that you created the packaging for and worked with the factory getting labdips and testing for...
you are an artist and a yogi and a teacher.. but most of all... you are a student!
i hadn't been a proper student in so long it was overwhelming by the end of class. i was so close to tears in savasana, and jumped up after chanting OM and bowing with a namaste to this phenominal teacher named Cerissa... and hugged her.
We both got goosebumps and talked at length after class before i took the elevator down the 23 floors in a state of sweaty bliss euphoria... the post-yoga glow glowing HARD off my skin.
Then came a series of big ass universal reminders.
A slew of things that are just so damn easy to forget and so incredible to be reminded.
My new friend Tommy, the Japanese yoga ninja in Bangkok reminded me of so many things as we shared a fried rice after class and then walked across the sky train platforms to Central World to try and get my ipod.
(I dropped it there a week ago and have been having SUCH a pain in the ass getting it back.)
As we walked around downtown Bangkok with mats slung over our shoulders, Tommy asked me
"Zani... why do you teach yoga?"
I didn't even have to think about it. i just gestured with my hands all around my body - THIS! THIS! i want to share THIS love... THIS energy with as many people as possible.
I want to help open the lotus bulbs like Sam and I did at the Jade Buddha temple yesterday.
I want to show other people how to wake up and see how beautiful life is... through THIS post-practice paradigm.
We got to the mac store and very quickly my energy started to evaporate into frustration with the Thai wanna-be mac store people - totally not understanding anything about customer service and screwing me over just like i would expect to be by a street vendor, but not by the team of mac people wearing matching apple shirts in a cloned store of the one on the thrid street promenade in Santa Monica.
I almost got angry.
Tommy put his hand on mine and looked in my eyes and told me "it's all about energy control, Zani. Remember? This is a Buddhist country. They don't want to waste their energy on anger."
I thought about America and how its a competition for who has a bigger gun... a louded scream... the more intimidating one wins.... like in a looney toons where each character pulls out a bigger mallet to smash the other one.
Here, when people get angry and go off, the Thai people don't want to deal with you.
But if you show your heart, they show theirs and the softer heart wins.
I softened my heart and smiled at the team of Apple store employees and told them it was okay. I thanked them in Thai "kob kun kaa"
They asked me to wait. (for a change...) as if i wasnt expecting to sit there for another hour while they shuffled around pretending to be busy or something.
Tommy sat with me at the counter and kept on reminding me of the things i was needed to hear.
He said "never be attached. Even if there is a 'guarantee' in Thailand... It's a third world country dressed up in first world costumes. Remember aparigrapha? Non-attachment? This is where we practice the yoga!" he said winking at me.
Right then and there I threw my hands up and totally let go. surrendered to not ever having an I-thing again... And bam. literally - within two minutes of that moment, the little Thai girl helping me walked up and handed me a new one.
"This is very surprising. This is surely a magical day." Tommy said. "A very special, very very special day, Zani. This is your magic day!"
He went on... "You came to Cerissa's class. She is the best teacher in Bangkok and you walked in with no expectation. You didn't know anything. Look how amazing it was. Then you come here and remember! The universe keeps showing us these lessons."
Tommy and I stood from the counter and thanked the Thailanders dressed as third street promenaders graciously and then walked out of the maze that is "Central World, Bangkok."
We stood on the corner and hailed me a taxi, exchanging emails for the next time i came to Thailand so we could practice some more magic.
I placed my hands together in the prayer position and bowed to my new friend.
This symbol of humility and humbleness.
I was reminded of this so many times today.
So i think i found where i stand.
I stand in my yoga..
uniting two worlds...
yoking the poles...
standing here on the equator...
with humble gratitude and humility.
NAMASTE.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
wealth.
today i moved in to the shanti lodge. (ainsley's suggestion. GOOD call as usual, ainz)...
its like a little rustic vibe, feels like a yoga studio in santa cruz or something... little teak thai walls in itty bitty rooms with fans and a shared bathroom.
downstairs is this beautiful little vegetarian restaurant... shoes all come off at the door.
its definitely MY vibe.
i checked in and sat in the restaurant catching up on emails and eating tom yum soup... loving it already, when i got a call from my friend, Sam asking if i wanted to go to the grand palace and see the emerald buddha.
duh.
Sam is an extremely cool Malaysian guy that Jessica and I met on our mission back from Koh Phangang. We started talking at the coach station in Donsak and carried on for about 24 hours.
He grew up near Kuala Lumpur, to a Chinese mother and Indian father who found him in a rain gutter as a baby and adopted him.
He has traveled all over the world - most recently living in Finland and then hitchiking down through Burma and getting rejected at the Chinese border because he looked to gruff with a beard and long hair and machete.
(i wonder how china will feel about Rugged Barbie?)
He now lives near the Khosan Road in Bangkok.
He speaks very fluently 7 languages - Malaysian, Indonesian, Mandarin, Finish, English, Thai and an Indian language i can't remember)
We go back and forth between Indonesian and English when we are hanging out.
He took Jessica and I shopping to the cheaper, locals areas and we got great deals... well... jessica did seeing as she buys in bulk.
When she loves something she gets one in each color (literally).
Sam's last name is Prem - which means "love"... i LOVE this because i want to change my last name to Love.
See? Obviously meant to be friends, right?
Anyways - I decided to walk to meet him at the Khosan Road eventhough everyone said "no no no... its over 2 kilometers. you cannot walk."
watch me.
i slipped on my new gold havianas -- i retired the hot pink ones finally in Koh Tao after a solid year living in them-- and started walking down Samsen Street, the little gold bell on my anklette jingling with each step i took as i charged it up and over little bridges and rivers, past monks in orange robes, 7elevens, street vendors selling god knows what kind of animals and veggies thrown in a wok on the sidewalk, the huge national library and manicured park grounds and towards Khosan Chaos.
I met Sam at the end of Khosan and we started our walk even further away from my little shanti lodge guest house and towards the Grand Palace.
i didnt know what to expect, which is my favorite way to do pretty much anything. just go into it and get a gut reaction.
As we marched along talking about detachment and loss... traveling and experience... swapping words in Indo and English - i started to see the pointy gold tops of what looked like castles cropping up above trees.
It has been the queen's birthday here in Thailand so lots of people have been celebrating in the streets and there are leftovers from what was clearly a party last night. (Jessica and I definitely almost dove under the table of our pad thai restaurant when we heard the first fireworks going off, instinctively assuming it was a drive by shooting). HA.
It was nice to have a little shade from the tents that were still being broken down on the sidewalks from last night's festivities, because today it was SCORCHING hot, even for me, who is pretty acclimatized after living in indonesia for 5 months.
I intuitively stopped to wrap a sarong around my shoulders before we even crossed the street towards the entrance to the Grand Palace that was swarming with Japanese tourists, recognizing that i would need to practice "menghormati" - like i do in Indonesia... covering the skin up. Sam had an "OH SHIT" moment when he realized he was wearing a tank top and would not be allowed into the temple. Luckily there was a little stand that sold him a blue hawaiian shirt. he laughed at himself, explaining that he only recently cut off all his long long hair and beard, and now was in a hawaiian shirt and sunglasses and felt like such a californian.
We paid our entry fee and started to slowly inch our way in to the temple grounds along with all the other tourists. I was abruptly stopped by a military man who ripped my sarong off my shoulders and demanded that i go into the gift shop and buy a t-shirt because it was not appropriate.
which is INSANE because the sarong covers literally my entire body.
but i obliged and spent the 150 baht on a stupid kid's shirt with a gold elephant that says Thailand.
it hugged my body and in my opinion was WAY less appropriate but whatever.
I respect whatever they are going for here.
The Grand Temple is ostentatious to say the least.
HUGE
GOLD
and GLITTERY
everything was like this.
like a giant confetti explosion.
the walls surrounding the compound had hieroglyphic-style drawings, telling stories i can only imagine are equally over the top and fantastical.
it's like this amazing fantasy dreamworld.
We slipped off our sandles, dipped lotus bulbs in rose water and flicked in on our heads and entered the room with the Emerald Buddha, sitting on the floor before this gigantic structure like a golden pyramid with the green sparkling buddha at the top.
Everyone sat in quiet reverence of this ancient relic and treasured gift of Thailand.
Once again, i felt less vibration then i would have assumed i would have felt.
My guess is that it was the constant turn over in tourist energy coming in and out, gazing and capturing... maybe stealing a little piece of it's energy for themselves.
i was staring up at the buddha in a sort of daze pondering and pondering so many things. my thoughts seemed to leap and dance like the thai characters painted on the walls around me, telling an epic story i couldn't comprehend.
why do we treasure our treasures like this?
it reminded me of a glass jewelry case, locked and sealed, displaying the crown jewels in London... cameras and laserbeams from every possible angle... like the Thai guards with machine guns standing like statues around us at the palace.
I thought about my greatest possessions and how they weren't possessions at all..
They are words, songs, feelings and memories.
i closed my eyes and began to think about my new tattoo on my right ribcage - this 5 pillar blessing that i have decided i want to stand for
Safety
Health
Happiness
Love
& Gratitude...
although as i sat there with eyes closed next to Sam and about 65 japanese people, i rattled off the five decided blessings in my head and somehow combined safety and health into one and at the end, named "wealth" for the 5th.
wealth?
NO!
how weird is that? it came into my mind so naturally... so obviously, as though i had wished for this before.
I feel as though if anything i have done the opposite as of late - giving away my money and renouncing wealth in a weird way.
And yet there i was in front of this insane emerald buddha on a throne of gold and rubies and god knows what else... praying for wealth?
what is going ON inside my HEAD!?
I walked outside and slipped on my gold havianas again.
then i looked at my wrists and noticed the three new bracelets that have joined my arsenal of wrist-wear... all of them have gold in them... (the rest are all pieces of fabric or rope and of course a piece of abby's bandana she wore in venice beach)...
then i thought about my new bikini i bought in the islands... also gold.
this all had to be symbolizing something.
maybe... just maybe... i am beginning to love myself... honor MY temple - this body.
Maybe this is a start to something new in my life where i actually treat myself as a Goddess and adorn this temple with gold and respect it and care for it, instead of being reckless and throwing it around like i have done for so long.
Maybe i am finding the wealth of health... (its only one letter away- so its gotta be close in meaning, right?)
I was just starting to tell Sam all this as we exited the Emerald Buddha temple, but was cut short because it was time for us to do our final blessing prayers...
He went and bought us both our offerings. I didn't know quite what i was doing so i just followed what Sam did. He has been teaching me bits and pieces of what he knows of Theravada Buddhism.
I am supposed to watch a movie called Ong Bak to understand what would happen if the Buddha head was stolen... how Thailand would crumble if they didn't have this iconic saviour here.
We peeled open our white lotus flower bulbs.. one petal at a time until it was blossomed open.
We lay the flower at the feet of a golden statue.
We lit two sticks of incense on a fire burning to the side of the sculpture in a metal pot.
We prayed holding the incense and then placed it in little holes - much like we do in Catholicism.
Then we lit our little candles and did the same... placing them in a water-filled candleabra style thing after closing our eyes and praying again.
And finally we took the little piece of gold fleck from inside a sheet of wax paper and we stuck it onto a little buddha sculpture.
This reminded me of when i didnt want to pay attention in middle school and would scrape the silver off of a gum wrapper and use it to paint something (like a book cover or folder) silver.
We did this with gold... and i chose to put my gold fleck on the Buddha's right rib cage, where my new tattoo is... and finally a little bit on the third eye for consciousness and awareness.
Finally outside i shook off the very serious look on my face and laughed hard.
"SAM! i just realized that i have NO idea what i just did, but i was putting SO much intention into that prayer and blessing ritual."
He giggled and said "that was the prayer for wealth! you didn't know?"
OF course.
He explained to me that we were offering up the fire, the smoke, the gold, flowers to the Buddha so that he would return wealth to us. He said he thought i understood because of what i was telling him about last night.
I was explaining my philosophy about letting go in order to receive...
How the universe cannot give to a closed fist...
so when we are gripping around something that we are afraid of losing, we can never get better, when there is a world of new opportunity and possibility out there.
it's always the way isn't it?
when you let go of your attachments or cravings or desires... everything FLOODS in...
it reminded me of when i was at the Geodong Ghandi Ashram in Candidasa, Bali and i listened to this part of the sunrise puja they would sing/chant in english...
they said:
Thinking about sense objects, attachment to them is formed.
From attachment comes longing, and longing breeds anger.
From anger comes delusion, and from delusion, confused memory.
From confused memory comes the ruin of discrimination; and from the ruin of discrimination, a man perishes.
don't you always hear this kind of thing?
someone loses a bunch of weight and you ask HOW?
they say "i just didn't think about it. i wasn't fixated or obsessed and it just melted away."
or the ever favorite of singles
"it's right when i stopped looking for a guy that he walked into my life."
so maybe because i just ignore money and wealth... something is coming to me?
maybe wealth of a non-monetary sense which is awesome too.
so - i guess the moral of this story is stop stressing, start receiving?
...something like that.
now we're back to that darn "clearing the mind" trick these Buddhists seem to be able to do even with all the glittery gold around them.
don't they know that i have "SOMETHING SHINY DISEASE"!?!?
(this is what i call A.D.D. and why jamie used to compare me to a goldfish regularly.)
...ooh. gotta go. just saw something sparkle outside.
Friday, August 12, 2011
SAME SAME, thailand.
(written by hand...)
on the roof of the ferry from koh phangang... en route back to bangkok.
jessica and i are the only people on the ferry that opted for sitting on the roof as it is blazing hot... so we (of course) stripped down to bikinis and laid out next to the smokestacks pummeling black fumes out into the air as we crossed the bay past koh samui to donsak on mainland Thailand...
I thought about how this ferry is a world away from the Ambu Ambu that runs from Padang out to the Mentawais back in Indonesia.
There the 11 hour ferry journey would find hundreds on men, women and children, piles of durian and spicy snacks, terrible loud music playing out of handphones and barely a moment where your skin is not in contact with anothers.
Up here, Jessica and I were totally alone. It felt baron and weird.
It's been exactly one week since i paid my 200,000 rupiah exit visa and got on my air asia flight, flying out of Indonesia... away from my hOMe.
Already in one week i find myself hOMesick.
I miss the country...
I miss the language...
i miss the islands...
i even miss the bellowing daily 4am Muslim prayers that echo of the mosques and down the roads of Padang...
i miss the unscathed (relatively)... unmolested by foreigners, raw authenticity...
i miss the Indo people....
i love the Indos... they are like night and day from the Thai people.
I am not bashing Thailand here, trust me.
Thailand is RAD.
I am finding Thailand to be beautiful and magical, but (from what i've seen), the soul of it feels violated - sort of like Kuta Legion on Bali...
Maybe it's just tourism in general?
I remember years ago, when i was living in London, going on a little tour to Stonehenge, and finding it like that.
Dead.
It felt raped of spirit.
Koh Tao (the first island Jessica and I ventured to) was stunning.
Our gorgeous penthouse suite at Montra Resort was incredible... even though i was stuck in hospital for most of our time there and only got to sleep one night in our massive princess bed, I felt like the little island of Koh Tao was still living... it had a twinkle about it, and was small enough to circumnavigate on an ATV in an afternoon.
It felt intimate.
In Koh Phangang, we stayed in Haad Rin - the full moon party beach part of the island.
It was reminiscent of the Greek Islands, Ibiza, Cyprus...
Run down, hung over and seemingly disgusted in itself.
The parties were amazing...
"Buckets" sold every 20 feet (a plastic pale full of ice, a bottle of liquor and a mixer of your choosing)... fire dancers... music... clubs... pool parties... fireworks... Everything open, awake, partying, dizzy and intoxicated.
It was like a burning man decomp party on the beach but without the creative spark that illuminates the soul of the playa.
I think probably other parts of Koh Phangang were more like Koh Tao... but i tend to judge a vibe of a place at dawn, and i can only speak to what i saw and felt... and i feel i got clarity and perspective at dawn this morning when i crept out of the Cocohut Villa and went for a walk up towards town alone. (some of the party animals were still up and about but most of the town was passed out.)
I was awake and clear.
I have risen with the sun each morning for nearly 6 months now and i intend to for life.
Things are brand new at dawn.
Wiped clean by the moonlight.
And truth is lit by the creeping early morning sunlight.
This morning I felt a lethargy permeating the atmosphere.
I felt the Koh Phangangians waking up heavily, slowly... exhausted at the mere thought of catamarans already en route to their island with thousands more.
Aussies...
Dutch...
Irish...
Yanks...
Brazilians...
Israelis...
Italians...
all 20/30somethings ready for neon glow in the dark body paint and the same Lady GaGa remix that sends hundreds of arms in the air & heads thrown back in drunken laughter.
I imagine the fire dancers and bucket sellers looking in the mirror this morning and wiping a fake smile across their tired faces as they wipe the heavy sleep from their lifeless eyes.
... SHHHHHOWTIME!.. ding!
It's how i imagine Broadway actors must feel...
night after night, without break...
the same show.
the same script.
SAME SAME.
I don't know what the "SAME SAME" joke is in the Thai Islands but there are millions of singlets with "SAME SAME" written on it.
Of course I read it for the first 20 times as 'sah-mah sah-mah' which means "you're welcome" in Indonesia.
But i think maybe its the Thai's saying to the Westerners
"you are not special."
"you are not magical."
"this is not new."
"you're not a travel ninja"
"you're not the only one who is hot and hungover and about to puke or pass out."
"you are ALL THE SAME."
But hell... i was one of the same-same tourists last night. I participates in the gang rape of this beautiful island with no soul left... It was fun... wild... blurry.
There were buckets upon buckets & foam parties & pool parties...
Truck beds transporting bodies from one shitshow to the next...
Leering eyes and cat calls screamed over bumping sound systems...
There were sporatic tropical rain showers and soaked clothes... wet hair... SEX SEX SEX on every mind in every eyeball.
And i kept looking around at swaying, staggering people wondering if I would be needed as an EMT again, like i was on the catamaran between Koh Tao and Koh Phangang.
A girl lost consciousness and fainted on the dock...
everyone was screaming for a doctor.
I dropped my bags and ran to help her. She came back to life and we got her on the boat.
I checked on her every 10 minutes, force feeding her a banana and a gatorade.
I rubbed her hands and talked her through breathing, pranayama style... I grounded myself and shone the energy into her.
She told me i was an angel.
I didn't tell her that I'd been calling for a doctor losing consciousness myself two nights before on the steps of our resort after i refused to stay in the hopital - and before i had been carted back and admitted anyways as i slipped into tunnel vision and quickly deteriorated from a kidney infection.
I had been terrified.
The only other time i can remember being that scared was when i saw Abby (Josh's Doggoddess) unable to stand and in her own pee after accidentally eating a pot brownie at the OM hOMe.
I felt helpless and knew that i had turned white. i was literally shaking.
On the steps of Montra i forgot that i was an EMT.
I didn't even remember the whole time i was sick, because i was so stunned and crippled by the pain and debilitating fear, i was waiting for someone else (as always) to tell me "you'll be okay."
I was helpless without reinforcement from outside myself.
I wonder where this need for another to pat my head and tell me i'll be alright comes from.
Maybe this is from being married since i was 19.
Asking for the OK... Looking for the nod of approval. Dependent on an answer from someone else... straight from my father's roof and his nod, to my husbands... never alone. not once.
But now i am 27 and divorced and stronger then ever.
I'm learning how to be okay.
I'm learning what i want and what i like.
Jessica is amazing the way she knows what she wants and will never settle for anything because of this knowledge of herself.
I guess i am in the proverbial "kissing the frogs" stage in every aspect of my life right now.
I realized this morning HOW i like to travel.
I like to walk everywhere (preferably barefoot)...
I like to get up at dawn and do yoga...
i like to just drink smoothies in the day while i explore... have a good healthy dinner... meditate and go to bed.
i don't care about bars, drinking or nightlife.
i mean... i'm a burner from hollywood.
i've been there.
drank that.
... and refused to buy the t-shirt.
it's all the same same.
Today i began MY adventure... finding a hostel, walking around and waking before dawn with a winged heart, practicing sun salutations and then writing before going to bed nice and early.
that's my IDEAL travel vibe.
It took an unbelievable two week dream vacation... a beachfront honeymoon villa with a private pool and an insane full moon party (the DREAM)... for me to realize my personal truth, which is that i don't necessarily need all this.
I almost felt out of place and awkward checking out of the honeymoon villa with my green backpack strapped on. i would bet that 99 percent of guests checking out from that villa have matching louis vuitton bags carried by a porter.
But, it's like everything for me.
i do it backwards.
I got married before trying to see what single felt like...
i had careers and a big salary before i felt what struggling young people feel like...
and i did first class (thanks to my best friend and her impeccable taste and unreal generosity)... for me to see that i like it rugged.
it's not like "oh, i don't mind roughing it.." no, i mean i really actually like it.
So thank you Thailand and Montra Resort and Cocohut Villas and rooftop pool on KohSan Road...! and most importantly, to Jessica for giving me the gift of this last two weeks.
Maybe the "SAME SAME" joke IS actually sah-ma sah-ma... Thailand saying 'you're welcome' to me for shining that light and showing me my path i am about to cruise on down tomorrow.
Bangkok hostel... here i come.
yours truly,
Rugged Barbie.
on the roof of the ferry from koh phangang... en route back to bangkok.
jessica and i are the only people on the ferry that opted for sitting on the roof as it is blazing hot... so we (of course) stripped down to bikinis and laid out next to the smokestacks pummeling black fumes out into the air as we crossed the bay past koh samui to donsak on mainland Thailand...
I thought about how this ferry is a world away from the Ambu Ambu that runs from Padang out to the Mentawais back in Indonesia.
There the 11 hour ferry journey would find hundreds on men, women and children, piles of durian and spicy snacks, terrible loud music playing out of handphones and barely a moment where your skin is not in contact with anothers.
Up here, Jessica and I were totally alone. It felt baron and weird.
It's been exactly one week since i paid my 200,000 rupiah exit visa and got on my air asia flight, flying out of Indonesia... away from my hOMe.
Already in one week i find myself hOMesick.
I miss the country...
I miss the language...
i miss the islands...
i even miss the bellowing daily 4am Muslim prayers that echo of the mosques and down the roads of Padang...
i miss the unscathed (relatively)... unmolested by foreigners, raw authenticity...
i miss the Indo people....
i love the Indos... they are like night and day from the Thai people.
I am not bashing Thailand here, trust me.
Thailand is RAD.
I am finding Thailand to be beautiful and magical, but (from what i've seen), the soul of it feels violated - sort of like Kuta Legion on Bali...
Maybe it's just tourism in general?
I remember years ago, when i was living in London, going on a little tour to Stonehenge, and finding it like that.
Dead.
It felt raped of spirit.
Koh Tao (the first island Jessica and I ventured to) was stunning.
Our gorgeous penthouse suite at Montra Resort was incredible... even though i was stuck in hospital for most of our time there and only got to sleep one night in our massive princess bed, I felt like the little island of Koh Tao was still living... it had a twinkle about it, and was small enough to circumnavigate on an ATV in an afternoon.
It felt intimate.
In Koh Phangang, we stayed in Haad Rin - the full moon party beach part of the island.
It was reminiscent of the Greek Islands, Ibiza, Cyprus...
Run down, hung over and seemingly disgusted in itself.
The parties were amazing...
"Buckets" sold every 20 feet (a plastic pale full of ice, a bottle of liquor and a mixer of your choosing)... fire dancers... music... clubs... pool parties... fireworks... Everything open, awake, partying, dizzy and intoxicated.
It was like a burning man decomp party on the beach but without the creative spark that illuminates the soul of the playa.
I think probably other parts of Koh Phangang were more like Koh Tao... but i tend to judge a vibe of a place at dawn, and i can only speak to what i saw and felt... and i feel i got clarity and perspective at dawn this morning when i crept out of the Cocohut Villa and went for a walk up towards town alone. (some of the party animals were still up and about but most of the town was passed out.)
I was awake and clear.
I have risen with the sun each morning for nearly 6 months now and i intend to for life.
Things are brand new at dawn.
Wiped clean by the moonlight.
And truth is lit by the creeping early morning sunlight.
This morning I felt a lethargy permeating the atmosphere.
I felt the Koh Phangangians waking up heavily, slowly... exhausted at the mere thought of catamarans already en route to their island with thousands more.
Aussies...
Dutch...
Irish...
Yanks...
Brazilians...
Israelis...
Italians...
all 20/30somethings ready for neon glow in the dark body paint and the same Lady GaGa remix that sends hundreds of arms in the air & heads thrown back in drunken laughter.
I imagine the fire dancers and bucket sellers looking in the mirror this morning and wiping a fake smile across their tired faces as they wipe the heavy sleep from their lifeless eyes.
... SHHHHHOWTIME!.. ding!
It's how i imagine Broadway actors must feel...
night after night, without break...
the same show.
the same script.
SAME SAME.
I don't know what the "SAME SAME" joke is in the Thai Islands but there are millions of singlets with "SAME SAME" written on it.
Of course I read it for the first 20 times as 'sah-mah sah-mah' which means "you're welcome" in Indonesia.
But i think maybe its the Thai's saying to the Westerners
"you are not special."
"you are not magical."
"this is not new."
"you're not a travel ninja"
"you're not the only one who is hot and hungover and about to puke or pass out."
"you are ALL THE SAME."
But hell... i was one of the same-same tourists last night. I participates in the gang rape of this beautiful island with no soul left... It was fun... wild... blurry.
There were buckets upon buckets & foam parties & pool parties...
Truck beds transporting bodies from one shitshow to the next...
Leering eyes and cat calls screamed over bumping sound systems...
There were sporatic tropical rain showers and soaked clothes... wet hair... SEX SEX SEX on every mind in every eyeball.
And i kept looking around at swaying, staggering people wondering if I would be needed as an EMT again, like i was on the catamaran between Koh Tao and Koh Phangang.
A girl lost consciousness and fainted on the dock...
everyone was screaming for a doctor.
I dropped my bags and ran to help her. She came back to life and we got her on the boat.
I checked on her every 10 minutes, force feeding her a banana and a gatorade.
I rubbed her hands and talked her through breathing, pranayama style... I grounded myself and shone the energy into her.
She told me i was an angel.
I didn't tell her that I'd been calling for a doctor losing consciousness myself two nights before on the steps of our resort after i refused to stay in the hopital - and before i had been carted back and admitted anyways as i slipped into tunnel vision and quickly deteriorated from a kidney infection.
I had been terrified.
The only other time i can remember being that scared was when i saw Abby (Josh's Doggoddess) unable to stand and in her own pee after accidentally eating a pot brownie at the OM hOMe.
I felt helpless and knew that i had turned white. i was literally shaking.
On the steps of Montra i forgot that i was an EMT.
I didn't even remember the whole time i was sick, because i was so stunned and crippled by the pain and debilitating fear, i was waiting for someone else (as always) to tell me "you'll be okay."
I was helpless without reinforcement from outside myself.
I wonder where this need for another to pat my head and tell me i'll be alright comes from.
Maybe this is from being married since i was 19.
Asking for the OK... Looking for the nod of approval. Dependent on an answer from someone else... straight from my father's roof and his nod, to my husbands... never alone. not once.
But now i am 27 and divorced and stronger then ever.
I'm learning how to be okay.
I'm learning what i want and what i like.
Jessica is amazing the way she knows what she wants and will never settle for anything because of this knowledge of herself.
I guess i am in the proverbial "kissing the frogs" stage in every aspect of my life right now.
I realized this morning HOW i like to travel.
I like to walk everywhere (preferably barefoot)...
I like to get up at dawn and do yoga...
i like to just drink smoothies in the day while i explore... have a good healthy dinner... meditate and go to bed.
i don't care about bars, drinking or nightlife.
i mean... i'm a burner from hollywood.
i've been there.
drank that.
... and refused to buy the t-shirt.
it's all the same same.
Today i began MY adventure... finding a hostel, walking around and waking before dawn with a winged heart, practicing sun salutations and then writing before going to bed nice and early.
that's my IDEAL travel vibe.
It took an unbelievable two week dream vacation... a beachfront honeymoon villa with a private pool and an insane full moon party (the DREAM)... for me to realize my personal truth, which is that i don't necessarily need all this.
I almost felt out of place and awkward checking out of the honeymoon villa with my green backpack strapped on. i would bet that 99 percent of guests checking out from that villa have matching louis vuitton bags carried by a porter.
But, it's like everything for me.
i do it backwards.
I got married before trying to see what single felt like...
i had careers and a big salary before i felt what struggling young people feel like...
and i did first class (thanks to my best friend and her impeccable taste and unreal generosity)... for me to see that i like it rugged.
it's not like "oh, i don't mind roughing it.." no, i mean i really actually like it.
So thank you Thailand and Montra Resort and Cocohut Villas and rooftop pool on KohSan Road...! and most importantly, to Jessica for giving me the gift of this last two weeks.
Maybe the "SAME SAME" joke IS actually sah-ma sah-ma... Thailand saying 'you're welcome' to me for shining that light and showing me my path i am about to cruise on down tomorrow.
Bangkok hostel... here i come.
yours truly,
Rugged Barbie.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
this gold bikini
"yup... i think the only good decision i have made so far in thailand is buying this gold bikini."
i saw jessica's face through the mirror standing behind me as i stood with one hip cocked out to the side sporting my new shiny gold bikini.
my hands still had cotton balls taped on from where they pulled the IV needles out this morning, and my 2 day old tattoo was coated in vasoline.
we fell down laughing.
jessica and and i are renowned for making questionable decisions... it's been this way since we were 9 years old.
we look at one another to see if there is a red flag and the other just shrugs their shoulders and away we go...
today it was coming out of the hospital with my purse full on the three medications i will need to stay on for the next 2 weeks as i recover from a kidney infection that knocked me flat out... throwing my purse over my shoulder, slipping on my flip flops that had been outside the door of the hospital since i staggered in the night before unable to breathe or walk...
(of COURSE they were still there. i LOVE thailand for reasons like this)...
and renting an ATV directly next door to the hospital. i didn;t even have my flip flops on for five steps before kicking them off again to enter the rental shop.
in our delusional minds, it was the perfect way to take the doctor's recommendation that i rest for the next few days...
we would rent an ATV four wheeler (because its safer then a motorbike... duh)... and go to a beautiful beach on the other side of Koh Tao island - Freedom Cove or something like that - and we would just go to sleep in the sun all day.
maybe get a massage or 3...
of COURSE this ended up with us on some crazy cliffside, having to take turns getting off the back of the ATV with the emergency brake on and huffing up this mountain because we were out of gas and it couldn't go up such a steep hill.
oh... the stories could go on for days.
but now, i must rest... in this crazy huge beautiful bed that jessica is splurging and treating us to....
we can see the unbelievable beaches of koh tao from our penthouse princess suite.
the AC is blasting and she is asleep next to the window that looks out at the beach past the infinity pool.
the resort is called "MANTRA"
and my mantra has just been "breathe" for days now.
ironically, jessica and i got tattoos a year and a half ago when our friend devin died and where mine has an OM, hers has the word "breathe"...
its all i could tell myself to do in the hospital, dealing with the pain in my kidneys and back....
breathe,
its what i repeated to myself two days before in bangkok getting a traditional bamboo tattoo on my ribcage...
breathe,
my new tatoo is a thai blessing called the 5 Hah Taew...
all i know is that there was no question in my mind when i saw it-- i knew it was supposed to be on my right side...
the side that is always plagued with illness and injury.
i needed the luck and blessing across my right ribcage.
i asked jessica if i should do it and of course she gave me the smile and the shrug... no red flags?
bam.
i was under the bamboo needle.
it was an amazing experience...
i just breathed and imagined myself floating inward away from the pain.
it worked.
it was magical.
two days before that, we were in brent's speedboat - on our 300 something-th nautical mile - flying around the indian ocean from the telos at our beautiful amazing friends mario and michelle's resort "surfing village" -- down to togat nusa retreat - bidding adieu for the season to my family there... flying down even further south to kingfisher resort - the place i have been dying to go since i met ben and rebecca and their gorgeous daughter indah earlier this year.
then all the way back to padang across the gnarliest channel...
the worst wind and swell conditions...
and my kidney infection already starting.
i lay on my back on the boat, my head smashing against the aluminum bottom constantly with every hard hit the boat took.
trying to breathe myself inward away from the pain.
we were soaked, freezing, and taking a beating like none other on the boat on that final crossing... trying to make it back to padang so we could get my passport and get on a flight to bangkok (no time for a shower.)
jessica looked up at me at one point - looking rather like a drowned rat freezing and screamed in an anchorman voice "i've never been so miserable in my life! i feel like anne frank."
we now only call each-other "anne"... its the funniest thing of all time.
everything has been a fast paced, blurry, hazy, slightly painful week of hysterical laughter.
this is why jessica is my best friend. because we laugh at virtually everything.
where there is pain, there is joy... and she reminds me of this.
yes... we make decisions that may or may not be the best, but when push comes to shove... life throws shitty things at you... and when you have a best friend that can laugh with you through tattoos and boat crossings - you KNOW that when death and tragedy come your way, you know you always have that solid rock to laugh it off with.
can we get a giggle break?
i saw jessica's face through the mirror standing behind me as i stood with one hip cocked out to the side sporting my new shiny gold bikini.
my hands still had cotton balls taped on from where they pulled the IV needles out this morning, and my 2 day old tattoo was coated in vasoline.
we fell down laughing.
jessica and and i are renowned for making questionable decisions... it's been this way since we were 9 years old.
we look at one another to see if there is a red flag and the other just shrugs their shoulders and away we go...
today it was coming out of the hospital with my purse full on the three medications i will need to stay on for the next 2 weeks as i recover from a kidney infection that knocked me flat out... throwing my purse over my shoulder, slipping on my flip flops that had been outside the door of the hospital since i staggered in the night before unable to breathe or walk...
(of COURSE they were still there. i LOVE thailand for reasons like this)...
and renting an ATV directly next door to the hospital. i didn;t even have my flip flops on for five steps before kicking them off again to enter the rental shop.
in our delusional minds, it was the perfect way to take the doctor's recommendation that i rest for the next few days...
we would rent an ATV four wheeler (because its safer then a motorbike... duh)... and go to a beautiful beach on the other side of Koh Tao island - Freedom Cove or something like that - and we would just go to sleep in the sun all day.
maybe get a massage or 3...
of COURSE this ended up with us on some crazy cliffside, having to take turns getting off the back of the ATV with the emergency brake on and huffing up this mountain because we were out of gas and it couldn't go up such a steep hill.
oh... the stories could go on for days.
but now, i must rest... in this crazy huge beautiful bed that jessica is splurging and treating us to....
we can see the unbelievable beaches of koh tao from our penthouse princess suite.
the AC is blasting and she is asleep next to the window that looks out at the beach past the infinity pool.
the resort is called "MANTRA"
and my mantra has just been "breathe" for days now.
ironically, jessica and i got tattoos a year and a half ago when our friend devin died and where mine has an OM, hers has the word "breathe"...
its all i could tell myself to do in the hospital, dealing with the pain in my kidneys and back....
breathe,
its what i repeated to myself two days before in bangkok getting a traditional bamboo tattoo on my ribcage...
breathe,
my new tatoo is a thai blessing called the 5 Hah Taew...
all i know is that there was no question in my mind when i saw it-- i knew it was supposed to be on my right side...
the side that is always plagued with illness and injury.
i needed the luck and blessing across my right ribcage.
i asked jessica if i should do it and of course she gave me the smile and the shrug... no red flags?
bam.
i was under the bamboo needle.
it was an amazing experience...
i just breathed and imagined myself floating inward away from the pain.
it worked.
it was magical.
two days before that, we were in brent's speedboat - on our 300 something-th nautical mile - flying around the indian ocean from the telos at our beautiful amazing friends mario and michelle's resort "surfing village" -- down to togat nusa retreat - bidding adieu for the season to my family there... flying down even further south to kingfisher resort - the place i have been dying to go since i met ben and rebecca and their gorgeous daughter indah earlier this year.
then all the way back to padang across the gnarliest channel...
the worst wind and swell conditions...
and my kidney infection already starting.
i lay on my back on the boat, my head smashing against the aluminum bottom constantly with every hard hit the boat took.
trying to breathe myself inward away from the pain.
we were soaked, freezing, and taking a beating like none other on the boat on that final crossing... trying to make it back to padang so we could get my passport and get on a flight to bangkok (no time for a shower.)
jessica looked up at me at one point - looking rather like a drowned rat freezing and screamed in an anchorman voice "i've never been so miserable in my life! i feel like anne frank."
we now only call each-other "anne"... its the funniest thing of all time.
everything has been a fast paced, blurry, hazy, slightly painful week of hysterical laughter.
this is why jessica is my best friend. because we laugh at virtually everything.
where there is pain, there is joy... and she reminds me of this.
yes... we make decisions that may or may not be the best, but when push comes to shove... life throws shitty things at you... and when you have a best friend that can laugh with you through tattoos and boat crossings - you KNOW that when death and tragedy come your way, you know you always have that solid rock to laugh it off with.
can we get a giggle break?
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