Perhaps we have to fall down sometimes, to rebuild ourselves. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself after passing out on the bathroom floor with a fever that had me wake up drenched in sweat and seeing stars. I could not believe that something so nasty, could take hold so quickly. As I crawled for my medical bag, it was all I could do to find the right pills and collapse into a state of restless delirium. When I awoke two hours later I wondered if the whole ordeal had really happened. When I awoke the following day so sore I could hardly move I was sure it had really happened. My third trip to South East Asia and I have never been sick like that. Not deliriously sick. I hope I am never sick like that again.
After a feverish 24 hours stuck in bed I dragged myself out for a bit of dry toast. Somehow I felt so depleted it was relaxing. It was like this filmy haze just enveloped me. My whole body had relaxed. Everything had slowed down. My plans to be up and moved on were thwarted. It didn’t much matter. I was in no hurry. I resigned myself to the salt water and a day laying in the shade by the beach. At that point, everything melted away and all I could hear was the lapping of waves by my feet. I felt like I had purged myself of something. I felt stripped back. Raw. Broken down. I lost myself in a book, for hours. My mind chatter had finally dulled enough for me to absorb the words. The fever – gone.
And as I wandered down the road, booked the boat for Koh Phangan and did the things I had to do, I met more people in the space of two hours than I had met in the last two weeks. I found some impromptu jammers, kicked back and chatted and chilled. I stopped and met Johnny, a local tattoo guy, who advised if I were to encounter any trouble, he should be the first to know. Then there was the little old lady who I chatted and laughed with in broken English for a long while. And the dive instructor with the gorgeous best friend.
It was the first time I felt like I had arrived, in the way I wanted to arrive. The first time I felt like I was home. I was worried that feeling would not come. It’s one I associate with travel. But here it was creeping back in after I’d scraped myself off the floor and dusted myself off.
I was finally rebuilding the me I needed, and wanted, to build. I just had to fall down first in order to do it.
Love is not what you want, it is what you are. It is very important to not get these two confused.
If you think that love is what you want, you will go searching for it all over the place.
If you think love is what you are, you will go sharing it all over the place.
The second approach will cause you to find what the searching will never reveal.