Equinox Mood

5am and curled in a ball on an old freighter ferry making my way to the mainland to see some officials about my long term stay here in Thailand. The air so frigid, my body so tired, I'd forgotten what it was like to make long uncomfortable trips. The glaring sun, the bitter taste of instant coffee, an ache in my foot from an old injury. Mix in some unforeseen chaos involving lots of paper and confused people and hours of waiting and waiting and waiting. One mad taxi ride and sixteen hours later I'm home, and I'm unsure what it was I actually accomplished, if anything. 

I trudge up the path to my hut and collapse in a pile of elation and comfort that I never want to end. 

In the weeks that followed, a few significant days have come and gone--one year since my Ubud accident (scar faded, bangs intact) and 4 years since Thailand became my home base (from city, to jungle, to island). And, of course, the equinox and the shift in season (autumn, my favorite). Each of these days slipped by nearly unnoticed. My mind light-years away, in a fictional world with fictional people having all kinds of strange experiences. 

That's when Angela's text came through. I met a guy who works in radio astronomy. He's interested in reading your book. This is what happens when you live in make believe worlds. They start to come to life. 

Trust me, Maura said, and I followed. We drove north past Chaloklum until we could drive no more. Then we walked down a cliffside, along the beach, and over boulders. Weathered by north coast storms, the huts that sit on the rocky cliff seemed from a dream. And in front of them, a painted sign somehow precariously wedged into the rocks: 0 miles to paradise. Boats bobbed in the bay. I'm going to live here one day, I said as we wandered back down to the the bar to drink coconuts and pet the giant pig lounging in the sand. 

I've tapped into something, and I want to hold onto it for as long as possible.

But I know that I can't.  

In these moments that feel so magical and surreal, all I want to do is grasp and hold tight, like fireflies in jars. The reoccurring theme in my life (and in this blog). Life long lessons that remind me surrender is key to magic. The only way to keep these moments alive is to release them. 

Tell me about a moment, an event, a thought that once released took flight and unfurled into something amazing!