Coming Home. A Day of Subtle Wonders, Part 2

Blue Temple, Chiang Rai, Thailand. Photo by me.

Hey y’all,

After another splendid afternoon at the Once Café, I walked to the Blue Temple in time for sunset.

As the guy at my guesthouse had said, the place was far less crowded. The falling light also made the temple more beautiful. But it still felt like the Disneyland of Buddhist Temples.

On the way back though, magic happened.

Walking in Thailand is an experience of watching where you step. When traveling with Kip, he pointed out the many perils along the way with efficiency.

“Don’t trip here,” he’d say at an unexpected step that could have easily tripped me up if I hadn’t paid attention.

“Broken concrete.”

“Broken glass. Watch your step.”

Although not as shocking as in India, there was always trash, and I even came across a couple of logs of human feces freshly shat right on the sidewalk.

That was a couple of days ago.

So spacing out in my own little world, as I often do on walks, is not a good idea here. Pay attention to my surroundings or fall flat on my face or step in shit.

The Blue Temple was almost 3 kilometers away, on the other side of the river from my guesthouse.

I wouldn’t have noticed this place had it not been dark.

As I approached the stairs to the walking path of the bridge, I heard the clink of dishes and silverware – sure signs of a nearby restaurant – on my right. Through the lush foliage, I saw a tall white building and the glass enclosure of what looked to be an elegant conservatory.

That made me curious. I wandered over and sure enough, it was a restaurant and a bakery.

I walked into something that was straight out of French Colonialism.

This place could have been in New Orleans with the soaring ceilings, soft wood floors, verandas, and columns, and just the way the space was made.

I didn’t expect that in Thailand, but Chiang Rai is so close to the Laos border, it’s definitely possible this area had had French settlers.

This place was a jewel.

Very romantic with seating both inside and outside before the river. With the classical French architecture and the lush growth of the tropical environment that is Thailand, the atmosphere was stunning and romantic and very relaxing.

Of course, there were a lot of couples dining there, and most people I saw were Thai.

I wasn’t super hungry, but there was no way I wasn’t going to have dinner there. The best tables were reserved, but the host sweetly guided me to a place on the lawn near the river.

Dinner was delicious.

Tamarind vermicelli noodles baked in a puff pastry with a small soft-shelled crab on top, I even had wine with that. For dessert, I indulged in a creamy panna cotta with a decadent strawberry sauce, and a honey-mint limeade to drink.

But the food doesn’t matter near so much as I felt dining there.

Nothing brings my soul to life faster than spontaneity.

That is one of the treasures of traveling – especially alone because there’s no negotiating with somebody else. The chances to follow curiosity where it takes me are abundant, and I love it when I’m rewarded with discovery.

But there was something about what happened here. Finding this gorgeous place where I had a gorgeous dinner because I followed my curiosity filled me with so much joy.

I didn’t care that I wasn’t part of a couple. I didn’t mind I wasn’t there with a new travel buddy. The gift for me in that moment was the spirit of celebration in the experience of solitude.

Photo by me.

I’ve dined alone many times. But last night, I was so happy in that. Before I left, I knew that I had finally come back to center.

Without going into too many details, something happened about 18 years ago that pulled up a lot of repressed memories and pretty much set off PTSD.

Before that, I had always been comfortable by myself, doing things on my own, and spending time alone. That’s not to claim that I was healthy when I was young. I was shut down, but I thought I was healthy.

Anyway, one of the more painful side effects of that thing that happened was this terror of being alone - specifically going through life alone.

I lost my balance, my sense of who I thought I was, and fell out of my center. I became “needy” in a way that humiliating.

I had never been “that girl” before. And suddenly, I had no control over the emotional cyclone that had taken over my psyche and wreaked havoc on how I interacted with the world.

I did everything I could to get back to center.

Years of therapy, energy work, getting initiated/attuned to Reiki, workshops, hot springs, being in nature, dance, hiking, snowboarding, kayaking, tantra, breathwork, Ayahuasca…the list goes on and on.

The journey of healing was a long and winding road, and I had some amazing experiences. Everything I tried had its gifts. I gained some tools and became stronger and healthier.

I got closer and closer to center, but not all the way.

“You don’t take a trip. A trip takes you.”

Given that this particular journey was fueled by a post-breakup-freedom-drunk, I knew SE Asia would give me plenty to write about.

Last night, while I reveled in that gorgeous solo dining experience, I realized this trip took me back home to myself. And that was the last thing I expected.

How's that for a subtle wonder?

Thanks for reading.

Peace,

Mana

A Day of Subtle Wonders

White Temple, Chiang Rai, Thailand. Photo by me

Hey y’all,

I don’t know if I made it up – I’d like to think I did – or if I read it somewhere and forgot the source, but the phrase stuck.

“You don’t take a trip. A trip takes you.”

I’ve found that to be true often enough that it’s my philosophy around travel.

Like yesterday, I intended to write the next travel email because I’m starting another workshop tonight/tomorrow, and I was trying to be done with it.

But I simply couldn’t do it because my environment at the time was too wonderful. This is what I wrote in that moment.

“And I can’t write about this right now. I’m in that sweet spot of the Once Café, and there are lots Thai people around me. Women and a child at one table, a couple of Thai youths playing guitar and singing across from me, and a group of young people outside practicing archery. I got a dish simply because I saw it passing by and it looked good – spicy spaghetti noodles made with peppers and bacon, and it was delicious.

This place is overflowing with community.

This scene is so sweet and peaceful, I can’t bring myself to write about the murky bowels of sexuality. It’s so fresh and innocent and happy right now. Why spoil it for myself?

It’s not often that I wander down a road into a local scene. Most of the time, I’m surrounded by other westerners.

This is officially my favorite spot in Chiang Rai.”

Once Cafe, Chiang Rai, Thailand - Photo by me.

My first full day in Chiang Rai, I didn’t do any sightseeing.

I landed in the gorgeousness of the Once Café, where I wrote for hours. And I got the bulk of my piece done while there. I stayed from late morning to late afternoon, ordering cappuccino and snacks as needed.

Except for a couple of teenagers who played guitar and sang, in spite of the jazz playing from a cell phone and a speaker, I had the place to myself on that first day.

It was awesome.

The woman who owned the place took my picture while I was working.

That was beyond flattering because 1) she recognized I was working, and 2) that she found a white woman working in her cafe unusual enough to photograph the experience when I’m the one who’s a tourist.

I noticed her husband was stringing a pretty bad-ass looking bow on my way to the toilet – which had toilet paper! (Yay!)

I asked if he was a bow hunter because my brother was.

“American?” he asked.

I nodded.

“It’s illegal to hunt in Thailand.”

Then he pointed out the archery range they had made of the yard.

I went back a second time, and the It started with the White Temple first thing in the morning. Since the White Temple is about 14 kilometers from Chiang Rai, the guesthouse boss drove me and waited until I was done, and drove me back.

I had gone to the Blue Temple the day before, and although beautiful, it could best be described as the Disneyland of Buddhist temples. It didn’t inspire the reverence of Buddhism in me that the more traditional temples did - especially the simple temples.

It was also packed with people. A sweet guy who worked at the guesthouse shook his head when I told him what I time I had gone.

“That is the worst time,” he said. “That’s when all the tour buses go. The best time to go to the Blue Temple is around sunset. There aren’t as many people.”

He also mentioned that his boss would take me to the White Temple, which is how I lucked out with an early morning ride.

There was nothing subtle about the wonder of the White Temple.

Like the Blue Temple, the White Temple did not inspire the reverence of the Buddhist faith. It’s not intended as a place of worship, really, so much as a stunning work of art. It’s pretty much a giant, intricate sculpture of white plaster and chunks of mirrored glass.

But the White Temple inspired my awe – that was for sure.

Driving up, the place glistened and sparkled, the pieces of mirror reflecting the light of the morning sun.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Yes…” murmured the boss who delivered me to such a wondrous place.

I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped, and that was before I even got close up.

Talk about a place that survives its hype and even the crowds.

Even first thing in the morning, there were plenty of people there. I’m thankful I wasn’t there later because I’m sure the crowds must have been out of control.

Most of the buildings were white and glistening, but there were a couple of ornate gold structures as well – the bathroom (not sure what that was about) and the Ganesha temple, filled with the OM symbols, pictures and statues of the Hindu Elephant God. I’m still in the dark about the connection between Buddhism and Ganesha in Thailand btw – but they love him here.

The contrast was dramatic, between glistening and glimmering, silver white and yellow gold, which incidentally was the color scheme for Tao Garden’s yin/yang symbols.

This whole trip has been an immersion into the spirit of yin and yang. But for yesterday there was mainly the brightness of yang.

However, there was a creepy, macabre side to this temple as well.

Souls in Torment outside White Temple, Chiang Rai, Thailand. Photo by me.

The dark side was represented, the hunger and torment of those souls who have no faith, don’t believe in enlightenment, much less work towards it, was evident in the hanging heads of angry-looking people and superheroes – or maybe they were supervillains.

At the start of the temple, desperate hands reached out to us, one hand with one painted red nail shot us the finger. Some of the hands clutched skulls. Lots of torment and anguish from those who fell between the cracks of grace.

Then we crossed the bridge of that hell and approached the divinity of the Buddha.

My only grievance with the place was that I had to go on a mission to find the Thorani. I now do that at every Buddhist temple I go to. No temple is authentic without her – at least for me. I was getting pissed before I finally did at the end, but she had a place of glory.

Phra Mae Thorani at the White Temple, Chiang Rai, Thailand. Photo by me.

I was back at the guesthouse by 9:30.

I shipped a box of stuff from the post office, visited a traditional temple nearby and felt the reverence of Buddhism once again, then took a nap before my return to the Once Café that was filled with the liveliness I described at the beginning.

There were lots of subtle wonders to be found in that experience. The live music was pretty good too. The older one had a beautiful voice.

This experience was completely different.

Not that I mind.

I’m glad the Once Café, bustling with people and brimming with life, was a part of my yesterday.

Yesterday was one of those days filled with subtle wonders.

Peace,

Mana