The Quiet Between

Mid-January and I'm driving into the northern mountains of Thailand. Dawn and I stop at the peak and look out over the ridge into the expanse of dull, green jungle. A thin haze has clouded the once vibrant scene. I drive on and slip back into some kind of stable life in Chiang Mai that soon begins to resemble the clouded scene from the mountain. The air becomes thick and my mind foggy. I stare at the ceiling and have imaginary conversations with my characters and call it writing.

I blink and it's February. The evening grows chilly and the sun moves quickly. A few of us attempt to start a fire which proves to be more of a challenge than it should be. After all the wasted kindling and exploding bamboo, someone gets it going. It's our first night manning the Kosmic Nest--a psy-care, safe space at the Jai Thep Festival. My second year volunteering.

My eyes linger in the night sky. I haven't seen stars in months and don't want to look away, ever. I stay up late into the night drinking Chai and reading Tarot for anyone who wanders into the nest. Everyone more or less asks the same question. I'm unsure if it was wise to have put myself in this position. But here I am, ever curious, ever pushing boundaries.

It's amazing the things people will open up about when they think you hold the key to everything they want to know. I attempt to explain the logic of Tarot to the skeptics. They look at me as though I've just tried to convince them into believing in their own intuitive power.

I blink again, and it's mid-February on a Sunday afternoon. I've ended up in a small tucked away ashram dancing with some Hare Krishnas. Sometimes following ones curiosity requires a bit of vulnerability and a serious energy shift. Sometimes it leads to Hare Krishnas. Sometimes it leads to unexpected friendship and ever more curious portals and questions.

Late February. Alia and I go for coffee and she asks me about my novels. I talk about astrophotography and nesting boxes, family secrets, and mysticism. I talk a lot about structure. It's like I'm analyzing books that already exist in the world. And then I remember--they don't. And it's up to me to make sure they become fully realized things. What an incredible yet terrifying task I've been given.

It's already March and in less than a week I'll be back in the US. And then back in Chiang Mai. And then relocating my home base. A series of and then and then and then. But it's the moments of quiet between that drive the questions and adventures and writing. A sacred silence that I hold close yet permeates everything.

What is it that drives your inner curiosity and questions into the manifest world?

T-minus 5 days until I'm off again. And none too soon. Burning season is underway here in Chiang Mai, and all the smog and heat are getting trapped in the city. So I'm gonna go find some clear, starry skies and snow to play in!