"So I pack my things, nothing precious, all things sacred." ~Alanis Morissette
I. Some Notes on Stillness
My friends and I sit at the ocean side restaurant and talk about the strange lingering energy and how it's manifesting into folks breaking down, dissociating, and mentally collapsing. One of them is a trauma therapist, fully booked and taking emergency sessions on the regular lately.
As the world around me stilled, so did I. Cultivating stillness calms the mind, clears channels, strengthens intuition, and allows steady movement through a world of chaos. It allows softness, the rise and fall of all things without such intense gravity attached to them. Perhaps, with the stillness of the island, comes an inner stillness that many are resisting, and instead of harnessing it, it's pouring out in erratic and strange ways.
II. Some Notes on Staying
When I first visited Koh Phangan back in 2016, I knew I would live here one day, and for the past two years, I have. My original plan was to stay one year, but when borders closed last spring, I stayed. Life here has been an incredible blessing, and I'm beyond grateful for the experience.
For the past two years, I've been living in a small house on a hillside in the jungle. And if you've ever lived in the jungle of a tropical location, you understand that walls are an illusion. The jungle encroaches on you until you are one with it. It takes some getting used to--the heat, the wildlife, the thickness, the rugged landscape that led to my front door.
But it has been in the ever morphing experiences and connections that have made these two years unforgettable and eye-opening--the Koyopa community, kirtan nights on the beach, Osho dynamic meditations, rebirthing breathwork, Mooji satsang, early morning self-inquiry meditations, write nights, improv nights, cooking classes, and of course, all those incredible jungle hikes, night time rides, and ocean swims.
My first post after moving to the island was how I'd reached some kind of pinnacle of existence, and I think, at that moment in time, I had. I mean, how can moving to a tropical island to finish writing a novel not be a pinnacle experience? But that novel is finished and entering into its next phase. And so am I.
III. Some Notes on Change
When the pull to leave began back in the fall, I knew the end was near. I fulfilled what I came here to accomplish. With that project complete and new ones on the horizon, the need to immerse myself in new energy and surroundings grew.
If you're into numerology, you might have guessed, my life path is five--a path of change and freedom. My soul number is four which represents stability and discipline. My life is one of finding stability and discipline within a world of constant change and, at times, chaos. I don't struggle or fight this way of life; I thrive in it. It takes discipline and stillness to understand how to move with the energy of change, to know when it's best to move on from whatever place or situation I've temporarily grounded into. Without the stillness, the change and movement would devolve into a kind of chaos, a compass without function.
The world is quietest just before sunrise, Amrit Vela. Your channels are clearest, your senses are sharpest. It's the best time to explore the places between, where the biggest mysteries lurk, and where, when all else falls away, the unchanging, undying part of us can always be found, ready to move with this sacred life and all its magic and wonder.
How do you find stillness in the chaos of life? How do you find equilibrium between change and stillness? Do you have a tendency for one over the other? How do you see them reflected in your life?
And on that note, island life is a wrap...for the time being anyway. I've been back in Chiang Mai for two weeks, and I'm already spilling over with stories and insights to share. Because without contrast, life would not be near as dynamic or interesting or surreal.
