letting in the light

Well, I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I think I am beached out. Just for now. Day in and day out of divine beaches and chill out time has me ready for, and craving, some adventure. It’s like I’ve been filled up, and the energy now is just oozing out. Quite the contrast to the state I was in when I arrived – strung out and listless. The beach has been perfect. The perfect way to prepare. The perfect way to shed my skin. The perfect way to begin.

Haad Yuan has been my sanctuary. It has helped me grab hold, let go, get lost and be found…

Long days steadily paced with morning yoga, drawn out chats over coconuts and curries, fresh fruit, long swims and the occasional overindulgence.

It’s been very simple, and very real.

Solitude can be an interesting thing. It leaves you with no alibi, and eventually you are forced to confront yourself – at the point where you are desperate for distraction and hungry for more because the mind will simply not slowwww down! It tries to hurry you up, move you along and resist the time for contemplation. It’s a tricky thing, the mind. And I’m slowly learning to step back from it and laugh as it runs wild… and I am beginning to learn to tune in to other things more and more often; the way the rain smells, or the way the light filters and flickers through the trees. But it’s wily, the mind. It plays games. You think you’re getting somewhere, only to realise that those narrative thoughts are sneaking back in, cleverly disguised. It’s a process, and one I have just begun.

If I had only been aware of how much routine had consumed me and how caught up in it all I had been become. It tightened my body and twisted me round, knotted from the inside – out. In hindsight I was wound up like some sort of wind-up toy, all ready to break into some crazy, crazy dance when someone pressed the right button. Since I arrived in Thailand just over three weeks ago, I have slowly had to unwind, unravel and chill the fuck out.

So the last three weeks have been like this decompression chamber of sorts. I’ve had moments of total elation, and others of complete despair. And all these moments have been integral, and necessary in helping me reach this point of feeling completely reenergised, recharged and ready to embark on the next chapter: India.

I’ve been able to let go of a lot of stuff and I’m leaving it behind here – embedded in the soft white sand. She can handle it, this beautiful island. She is grand and strong and kind. My story, for want of a better word, is the least relevant it’s ever been to me. I still cherish it, and am thankful for it, but am so much more aware that it isn’t what makes me. I’ve had such moments of clarity here, listening to rain spill over thatched rooves and the chorus of bullfrogs at night. I’ve danced under the stars. Dirty feet. Dirty skin. Dirty clothes. I have shared such profound moments of stillness with others.

And all of this has helped me open the door to love again, when I thought I may never be able to.

One door closes, another opens.

I’ve stopped gauging my own journey, and success, against anyone else’s. I’ve stopped racing, and have begun working at my edge, rather than ten steps ahead of it – no longer pushing, no longer hungry for more than this. When we slow down a bit, and go at a more natural pace, then we can start to make real progress. And when we are no longer governed by a mind dictating to us – more, more, more – then we can begin to see what really is. It’s not about being good enough, it’s just about being. The moment is now. It’s always now. That’s where the stillness is, where the love is, and the peace of mind. It’s now. And if we treat our mind, our body and our heart with respect, then we can truly begin living a better life.

So, I’ve taken the lid off. That is all. I’ve only scraped the edges of what I know is the right way for me… but it doesn’t matter because I have begun, have taken the first step and I am finally, finally moving forward again.

As I sit here typing I can hear an Israeli man singing at the top of his voice down the hall. It sounds fantastic. I am breathing it all in. It’s hot and sticky, yet fresh and clear.

And I am so fucking excited that I can hardly wait.