I awoke to the foreign cries of unknown birds. I opened the glass door of my hotel room and looked out upon a neighborhood whose residents I had never met. The fragrance of flowers I had never smelled wafted upward with the warm breeze that blew. A woman wearing a straw sun hat passed by on the street below. Workers arrived in the back of a small and ancient-looking Toyota, chatted with one another as they unloaded, and then promptly resumed construction on a building that appeared to need the opposite sort of attention. A little girl of approximately twelve years stood on the edge of the incomplete, multi-storied building, deftly leaned over the side and received building supplies hoisted up via a makeshift pulley. People work here, birds sing here, life goes on here just as it does there. I cling to the safety of my room to the uncertainty of The Outside here just as I do there. Chia seeds form a gelatinous glob at the bottom of my Blender Bottle regardless of how vigorously or frequently I shake it here just as they do there. It can't be helped.
I believe that it is very natural for human beings so attached to home, family, and familiar, to initially seek out the familiar when they discover themselves in strange surroundings. Even the most daring and restless of wanderers cannot help but seek out, or at the very least, inherently compare what they know with what they do not. There are terms in every language that describe these feelings we humans experience: homesickness, dépaysement, sehnsucht, suadade, even culture shock can be the result of being overwhelmed by too many unfamiliar things all at once. I firmly believe, as an experiencer of this feeling of wanting to be elsewhere while simultaneously wanting to stay home, we humans thrive on familiarity, on being home. It is a sort of survival mechanism, I think. All creatures must adapt to their environments. Upon being introduced to anything new, our bodies, minds, and souls immediately scurry to find balance, homeostasis, normalcy, before once more into routine that we can rely upon. I am not sure, however, that meaningful familiarity or routine is either possible, beneficial, or authentic on this planet. What we eat, who we know, where and what we do for work, the sounds and sights that surround us are all temporal aspects of a life that means so much more. It's frosting on the cake, but frosting is not very nutritious.
My mind is swiftly fogging up again, so I'll end this entry with just this: I'm alive, I've eaten my breakfast, and now I'm arguing with myself over the possibility of venturing outside....
Tomorrow, I fly from Bangkok to Chiang Rai where I will be working, learning, and (hopefully) growing until the 8th of March.
My mind is swiftly fogging up again, so I'll end this entry with just this: I'm alive, I've eaten my breakfast, and now I'm arguing with myself over the possibility of venturing outside....
Tomorrow, I fly from Bangkok to Chiang Rai where I will be working, learning, and (hopefully) growing until the 8th of March.
