Inspired once again by the boredom of these tracks, I find myself at once remorseful that it has been so long since I last wrote--so much having happened--and eager to jot out my recent journeys. While Sophia takes time every day to write in her journal, I am not so persistent nor prodigious. I have a good memory, but memories, even a few days stale aren’t always the best fruit for reflection. And while I try to reflect here, I am quickly realizing that it may not have been boredom that encouraged me to write, but the constant jarring of my grey matter, which swashes back and forth as the front of my train-car, where I currently sit is tugged from side to side in less of a sprint to Bangkok, but more of a waddle. Right in front of me:
WARNING
PLEASE BE CAREFUL WALKING ACROSS
THE BOIGE JOINT WHILE THE TRAIN
IS ON OPERATION
PLEASE BE CAREFUL WALKING ACROSS
THE BOIGE JOINT WHILE THE TRAIN
IS ON OPERATION
Despite this type/grammatical error, Thailand has by far exhibited the best about use of proper English. Good syntax, correct diction, so un-SEA-like. Yet another sign that my last few days here are just that, at least for the foreseeable future. And just now I’m realizing that my constant glee this past week may not be completely attributable to the experience itself, or the unbelievable scenery we’ve made ourselves privy to thanks to a super-powered rental motorbike. Instead, maybe it’a all been tainted by the fact that I will be rejoining my family and friends in my hometown. Seattle, Washington where I’m sure it’s currently raining and just above a freezing 32°F (not 0°C). But for some reason, I look forward to that, and have for about a month now. Properly raised in Seattle means you’re acclimated to any weather conditions, just so long as they aren’t seriously extreme. In fact, you welcome the storms, knowing that it means for something more exciting, or in some cases, maybe an encouragement to take a few hours buried in a book, wrapped up in a blanket by the fire. 555. I suppose that’s contemporarily inaccurate. Rather: take a few hours covered up by your zebra snuggie, iPad in hand, hoping for a whiteout all Sunday long on FOX and ABC.
And while I fantasize about all of this, my heart is not only warmed by all that I love, but by this constantly evolving painting outside my window. The sun fallen to the horizon, a bright orange-red illuminates the once-foreboding puffs that tower off the ground like mountains, billowing up and out, as if fresh from Absalom’s mouth. Again, the scene is somewhat indescribable. But this all unfolds above fields of rice peppered with palm trees, some flooded and replenished, mirroring the god’s Monet above. The buzz-by creates a strobe of yellows, oranges, reds, magentas, purples and deep blues. I took a few shots as we cruised through, right as the sun kissed the horizon, but even standing still I’m sure I could not have captured all I saw. That is the crux of this art of light and lines, you only get a portion, and often, well, always, being there is just plain-out better.
So, as I prepare to depart in two days’ time, I must prepare to leave this land of overwhelming and moving cloudscapes and sunsets. This is not a constant promise of the Pacific Northwest. Though other things, like Christmas prime-rib, mashed garlic potatoes, beef jus, roasted vegetables and Cabernet, are. Other things like snow in the mountains and long blower turns under bluebird skies soon will be. Other things like the constant push-in-your back to work hard, to perform, to reach for the sky, and not to take no as an answer, these things are imminent. So while I enjoy my surroundings these last few days, I amp up for some of these things, and tune down some of the lackluster aspects of my life on the road, abroad. I constantly remind myself that little good comes from worrying and only through preparation can you find that inner calm you strive for, often making your own luck.
Admittedly, it’s hard to say something like that when I hale from the most privileged nation amidst a cluster of second-world nations, and a vast majority of people living below my means; travel out of the question. If there’s one thing I can absolutely say, is that everyone wants to be happy, but we certainly find happiness in different ways. Nevertheless, apart from my differences with everyone I’ve met, everyone I’ve come into contact with, happiness is contagious, and it hasn’t come from any of the modern marvels of our western world. I see more happy people here (in the cities and the countryside) than I could expect on any given day at home. Well, maybe if the sun is shining bright in The Bay, the numbers are more equivalent. This is the point exactly: often we find ways to wallow in what we don’t have, what we think will make us happier. We don’t need the sun every given day, while even that is less than asking for anything material. All we really need is a smile from someone in the room, a stranger or your best friend. Happiness is easy to find, if you know how to look for it. And I don’t profess to being the best at this, but I know it’s worth striving for amidst all I do every day to figure out what I want my future to look like, and how and when I want to get [to] there.
So, before I tell you what I’ve been doing the past two weeks, I want to say thank you for smiling, thank you for being easy-going, and thank you for not compromising a light heart with whatever onus you bear by choice or by birth or bad fortune. I know that I’ve spent plenty of my life being “nasty” either by design or because I was mentally or emotionally preoccupied. But this trip has made this fact even more apparent than my parents have attempted to for the last, oh, 22 years. They are shining examples of this, so really, thank you to them. Maybe this is all wrong, but it really seems all right, and as Gary would say, “all good,” credit to Fuldogg.
That’s all I’ve got for now. More on my adventures due soon.
Flickr Thailand Set!
