"Slow down everyone you're moving too fast, frames can't catch you when you're moving like that." ~Jack Johnson
With each passing moment, I sink deeper into the slow life here in the south of Laos. So slow that everything suspends in time, like a photograph, like a never ending ellipsis....
Life is still, but water flows through everything. The Mekong and the waterfalls. Etheric and dreamy, an effortless magic.
The bold swim under the waterfall letting its power crash over them. Small children splash about the shallow shoreline. I lie on the floating platform at the edge of the small lagoon, and the sound and vibrations from the waterfall move through me. I buzz and tingle. Nothing feels real anymore.
From the road, frames rush past. I cross bridges and when there aren't bridges, my bike and I float across the Mekong by raft.
With each breath, I float out of time and space, and with each exhale, I ground back down. But back into a slightly altered reality.
In Savannakhet I stand face to face with powers that could change the course of everything. Being denied a visa is not part of my plan. I breath through the initial denial and connect with my own source of power. Through calm words, I get out of my own way and allow space for the miracle to come through. When I pick up my visa the next day, the sensation of lightness lifts me out of time once again.
I float on to Si Phan Don, the 4000 islands in the Mekong that separate Laos from Cambodia. Dirt roads, aged river huts, rickety bicycles bumble by--as though I've stepped back in time 30 years. Not much changes here. The islands float above the rest of the world where they can't be touched. Don Det, at the river's edge, I sink my toes into the sand. From a distant cafe, music drifts through the palms and out over the river. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
My last few days in Laos an anticipation bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. Obtaining a visa is one thing. Actually crossing the border is quite another. Again, at the mercy of the person who stands between me and the place I've called home for so long.
We cross the border late in the day. The thud of the stamp, the smile of the officer, my hands uncontrollably shaking. I walked out of the building and into Thailand. I nearly burst into tears of happiness. Stepping out of one reality and into another. The lightness, the relief, the faith, and the grace.
There will be moments when all you practice and believe will be put to the test. And when the moment of grace comes and the miracle has transpired, you will know why you walk the path you do.
Tell me about moments of grace you have experienced. What did it illuminate for you?
With each passing moment, I sink deeper into the slow life here in the south of Laos. So slow that everything suspends in time, like a photograph, like a never ending ellipsis....
Life is still, but water flows through everything. The Mekong and the waterfalls. Etheric and dreamy, an effortless magic.
The bold swim under the waterfall letting its power crash over them. Small children splash about the shallow shoreline. I lie on the floating platform at the edge of the small lagoon, and the sound and vibrations from the waterfall move through me. I buzz and tingle. Nothing feels real anymore.
From the road, frames rush past. I cross bridges and when there aren't bridges, my bike and I float across the Mekong by raft.
With each breath, I float out of time and space, and with each exhale, I ground back down. But back into a slightly altered reality.
In Savannakhet I stand face to face with powers that could change the course of everything. Being denied a visa is not part of my plan. I breath through the initial denial and connect with my own source of power. Through calm words, I get out of my own way and allow space for the miracle to come through. When I pick up my visa the next day, the sensation of lightness lifts me out of time once again.
I float on to Si Phan Don, the 4000 islands in the Mekong that separate Laos from Cambodia. Dirt roads, aged river huts, rickety bicycles bumble by--as though I've stepped back in time 30 years. Not much changes here. The islands float above the rest of the world where they can't be touched. Don Det, at the river's edge, I sink my toes into the sand. From a distant cafe, music drifts through the palms and out over the river. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
My last few days in Laos an anticipation bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. Obtaining a visa is one thing. Actually crossing the border is quite another. Again, at the mercy of the person who stands between me and the place I've called home for so long.
We cross the border late in the day. The thud of the stamp, the smile of the officer, my hands uncontrollably shaking. I walked out of the building and into Thailand. I nearly burst into tears of happiness. Stepping out of one reality and into another. The lightness, the relief, the faith, and the grace.
There will be moments when all you practice and believe will be put to the test. And when the moment of grace comes and the miracle has transpired, you will know why you walk the path you do.
Tell me about moments of grace you have experienced. What did it illuminate for you?
