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

Lone Wolf and Ships Passing in the Night

Photo by me

Hey y’all,

Traveling is bringing out the lone wolf in me.

I’m getting into the groove of that dance of solitude and connection. Being with myself and crossing paths with other travelers - usually solo female travelers – where we come together for a brief friendship of time spent in a place that’s not our home.

I’ve been very lucky with the people I’ve met. So much that I found myself craving alone time.

Anyway, when I was in Chiang Rai I spent practically all my time alone, with only the briefest of exchanges since I got here. And I’m good with it.

Of course, it helped that I knew my solitude came with an expiration date because I had a workshop right afterwards. Shared experience is always fodder for meeting and bonding with people.

The last few days I was in Chiang Mai, I buddied around at night with Nadia, who I met the day I checked out of my Thailand base, Hollanda Montri Guesthouse, run by Kiwi Dean and the Widow Su.

Nadia was the one who stared a conversation with me because I was tossing a 5 baht coin in my chronic game of yes or no answers to be found in heads or tails.

“Heads or tails? Which one do you want?”

“Depends on the question I’m asking.”

That’s how the convo started between us.

Nadia’s another seasoned traveler like Kip. Before she married a couple of years ago, she carved out 6 months a year for travel.

Nadia is what I’d call a soft extrovert. She wasn’t boisterous or overpowering, but she definitely knew very well how to meet people easily and connect.

When she met me for dinner in the old city, she had no problem asking the tattooed French guy if we could join him on a bamboo platform where another guy was snoozing in the hammock.

The Frenchman had lived in Thailand for years. Nadia asked him if he’d ever been a scuba dive instructor, which he said he had.

“Whenever I meet a Frenchman with tattoos, it seems they are always dive instructors.”

When the guy in the hammock woke up, she asked him what he’d been dreaming about.

He hadn’t been dreaming at all. He had been sleeping off a hangover.

I was ready for some alone time, or it may have even been her jetlag, but I found Nadia draining when I first met her.

But I squashed it down because she was company before I went to Chiang Rai, and who knows when I’d have a travel buddy to hang out with again?

Nadia was a very lovely woman. She was in Chiang Mai for a Thai massage course and to do her own thing, while her husband goes snowboarding in the Alps. They live in Holland.

Of course, Nadia was very interesting. I learned about a place I really want to go to from her.

“Get there before it’s discovered and becomes expensive,” she said. “It will happen because it is literally an oasis. My husband and I were there for our honeymoon 2 years ago, and it was magical.”

I just might go there next fall. And in the interests of keeping the secret a little longer, I’m not going to say where it is.

I saw Nadia every night from the time I met her until my last night in Chiang Mai when I circled the moat going around the old city of Chiang Mai.

It was so good to do that alone, even the tight spots of navigating near the old wall with vehicles coming at me. I felt light and free walking those 7+ kilometres.

I think Nadia was on the same page. She stayed at the guesthouse on the river and probably got her conversation needs met with Dean.

It’s such a gift to meet unusual, independent people while traveling.

As Natasha had said, traveling takes out a lot of stuff and distills the essence of who a person is. Then on top of that, solo female travelers crossing paths with other solo female travelers is its own magic.

It’s been a relief, this experience of connecting with kindred spirits.

But at the same time, there’s a compromise to spending time with another. Nadia had a very different rhythm than I, and sometimes it tested my patience to alter my pace to meet hers, and I’m not free to go where my feet lead me.

In some ways, that’s a blessing because I do things I wouldn’t have due to another’s influence. In other ways, I was kind of hungry for it – to simply do my own thing when I wanted as I wanted.

Those few days in Chiang Rai were pretty sweet. I got a good recharge before being around others again.

Traveling is getting me back in touch with my inner lone wolf. I met remarkable women in that workshop and made some beautiful new friends. Yet there were also plenty of times when I needed to go be by myself for a while. Usually to write, but often times simply just to be.

It’s a dance of solitude and connection, the alone time of being with one’s self and connecting with other beings for a brief friendship of two ships passing in the night, the horn sounding in the air as we all go our separate ways.

Most of these women I’ll probably never see again.

Peace,

Mana