April 2019

I feel like I have ran a million miles away from home and are now glancing back at the length of path I need to follow to find deep rest. Quite an unsettling distance. Perhaps I'd better just find comfort in where I am. No need to rush home. It's not going anywhere. 

That isn't what I meant to convey. 

It's not a feeling of rush or urgency that pulls my heart. It's the amount of time I need to spend alone, the amount of time it will take to not feel alone. That is the tug on my heart, comparable to a rope tied onto the leg of a racehorse, a speeding train, or falling boulders.  

I'm having a hard time loving hard and loving deeply into those around me, and even myself, when my roots are 10 feet deep in another country. I've got nothing here in Thailand but ginger, fragile roots and I'm growing tired of struggling to find something to grip onto and water to drink. 

Perhaps I'm just lonely. 

Well that is an easy fix, I'll put myself out there. I've got loads of friends to stand next to and pass the time. And when I'm feeling anti-social, I'll find validation staring at a full inbox of friends back home inquiring about what I've posted online. 

But neither of those fill the soul. Neither of those silence loneliness like the genuinity of someone taking care of you. I pour into others, waiting for the rain to come onto me. It hasn't, or else these thoughts would be drained away. I could stop emptying myself, save some for those I deem "worth" consideration. 

But that is the antithesis of humanity. To love and love and love, even to a fault, is a great way to end this chapter. But, what else is left to try when the food doesn't fill you and the bed doesn't warm you? At what point do you realize some locked doors are signs and not challenges?

What a beautifully dark room I've found myself in. Fascinating where an empty bank, broken body, and tired feet can lead you. 

A wise fool once told me, nothing is temporary...

Man what a VAPID thing to claim...

Too many good hours were spent in this month to let these moments in my head bankrupt my heart. So where do I begin?

On the first Friday of the month, I find out I've run out of money. I pack my bags and go south to the countryside. That's one of the few places you leave richer. 

With an empty bank account and heart full with baby fever, farm fever, and dengue fever (just kidding), I feel like I can coast for miles with this overflowing fuel tank. 

A few days later, before the laundry was dry, I hopped on a plane to Singapore. Sweating in my blazer and shaking in my boots, I take my first solo international work trip to speak on a panel, representing a huge global brand. I still can't read those words out loud without being overcome with pride. 

You don't do amazing things alone. I'm grateful to have the support system that prepared me for this, knowing that it is only the beginning. When God said he had plans for me, I truly underestimated him. 

I check my fuel tank; half full. Enough energy to unpack the night I land, repack the next morning, grab my old college friend, participate in a publicly unsanitary (but one of a kind) water fight in the streets for SongKran, dry off, and jump on an overnight train to the islands. Fuel tank: almost empty. We spend our first day napping away the sun.

Motorbike accidents are the least uncommon thing, especially in Thailand's southern islands, and especially Koh Tao. Its not the carnal damage that bothers me personally, they're nature's FREE tattoos (these hospital bills though), its the weaknesses that take the wheel. It's the way going through the pain made me feel like I was standing on a 10,000 foot pole, out of reach from help when I needed it most. It's the way my body was forced to take a break and soften, just when I was beginning to feel strong. 

My fuel tank drained out onto the road and drew a black circle around me, showing me what isolation looks like. Refueling is going to take a little time of deep rest to rid me of feeling depressed, whether I want to or not (my bank account is not really giving me a choice). 

I'm going through something necessary, humbling, and very crucial in this twisted growth process. 

I'm grateful.