Finding My Rhythm

Today marks the first month of my stay in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Spoiler alert. I have fallen in love and plan to stay for another thirty days. This northern city stands out from any place I’ve ever been. Nestled below the green mountains, it welcomes you with a quaint, charming vibe; one that makes you feel at home within days. In the center lies the Old City, trimmed the whole way round by a tranquil mote. The brick walk along the water’s edge shades in dense trees. At night, the rustic lanterns burn gold through the fog to make for a Narnia-esque tableau. Past the ancient city gates, which date back to the 13th century, is the artsy neighborhood of Nimman. Each building pops with its bold color and shape, as if the streets poured out of an impressionist painting. At night, the world awakens in glittering paper lanterns, and the smell of lemongrass wafts through the thick, hot air. The outdoor markets blanket the space and create an enchanting, nocturnal buzz. Couples weave through the tents holding their lover’s hand, or laze on the outdoor steps, nibbling food while the musician plays a song. And just beyond the lively hum of the people, a calm river flows across the valley as the mountain stands guard. The monks, draped in their orange robes, meditate deep in the forest, while the soft rings of the temple bells can be heard in the distance, humbling this peaceful city.

There is a beautiful feminine aura in this place. You can feel its presence everywhere; in the trees, the clothes, the ever so fabulous ladyboys, and even the spirituality. The temples are decorated in exquisite detail; golden arches embellished with delicate designs shimmer their lovely curves. Even the grand Buddha sits with divine grace. The artwork here is saturated with warm colors, depicting the stories of the gods. In these elaborate pieces, the morals speak of compassion, modesty, and most often, self-awareness. One of my favorite tales is about a creature who wants so badly to reach nirvana and become a god. However, his self-driven, animalistic instincts keep him on earth to scrape the streets in the form of a serpent. He wants to be good, but his selfish urges have often taken hold of his decisions. The snake asks how he can make his way to the heavens. The answer? First, you must know what it means to be human. Be a human. So simple. I love it.

I have experienced waves of creativity, quirkiness, and even healing since coming to Thailand. Yes, the expat community is known for its digital nomad dominance, but it is so much more than that. This community consists of writers, artists, comedians, rappers, poets, musicians, and extravagant fashion designers (I’m talking steampunk meets renaissance meets burning man). Each morning Tristan and I wake up and bike over to our favorite cafe. There we order a coffee and sit for hours, entrenched in our creative endeavors, surrounded by dozens of others doing the exact same thing. On Halloween, we had the pleasure of taking part in a live-action Dungeons and Dragons show, filled with majestic costumes and impressive improv. Over the weeks, we have partied to a choreographed 80s workout dance crew, played with elephants in the river, and frolicked carefree in waterfalls. Hell, this place even gave me the urge to dye my hair blue. One can’t help but feel this remarkable spark when living here. Its flame emerges from the wild beauty of the jungles and the energy of the people, penetrating straight into your heart. I don’t know how else to explain it.

One particular spark was ignited in me when I made my first visit to a place called The Healing House. The house is, in fact, the living quarters of several people who open their home to hold an open mic night every Friday. I expected to watch some stand-up comedy and a few acoustic song covers. It was so much more. The house is honestly just a room, covered head to toe in art. It makes for an intimate space, complete with patterned pillows for the audience to sit on the floor and watch. After a few beautiful performances of poetry and music, I watched a young man get up and bare his soul. It wasn’t a song. It wasn’t a story. He simply talked about his life, holding back tears as he thanked the people and experiences of his past that made him who he is today. It was so unbelievably moving. And he wasn’t the only one. That night I saw five people in some way get up in front of a group, many of whom were strangers, to inspire, spread love, and ultimately be vulnerable. They spoke of soul searching, of daily mantras, and of loss. The last to speak for the night was a sweet German man who was performing for his very first time. His hands trembled as he told his story. He had attended the Healing House for nearly three months, and this was the first time he felt ready to share. I watched with tear-welled eyes as this man opened up about his self-transformation since coming to Thailand and finding his people. The catharsis I felt from that night left a lasting impact on me. The next day I sat at my computer and worked on a song. I do not have a great voice. I suffer from terrible stage fright. I have never written a song before. Even so, I have always wanted to, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t make an excuse not to do so. After all, this is what the entire journey is about. Months into this trip and I am finally finding my rhythm. Thailand, I have fallen in love.

#Thailand #creative #Asia #travel #ChiangMai