Staying True in Thailand

The next forty-five minutes were the highlight of my experience, in part because I’m pretty sure the mosquitoes were still sleeping. In the cool darkness, I was actually able to sink deeper into my body and forget about my complaints. I walked out refreshed and sat on the steps of the meditation hall watching the purples and golds of the morning sun begin to streak across the sky. I felt good, open, and alive.

By 9:00 a.m., the tide had once again turned, and another day of heat, resistance, and misery ensued. I couldn’t relax into being present. On the morning of the third day, I decided to talk to one of the helpers about the possibility of leaving. She set up an appointment for me in the meditation hall with the male and female leaders during one of the breaks. I arrived, bowed awkwardly, and sat on the cushion in front of them.

“Do you know how many people we have turned down so that you could be here?” The man scolded.

“What you’re feeling is normal. Be patient. By day, seven it will all feel different,” said the woman.

I knew she was right, but I also knew it didn’t matter. I was finished. Suddenly, the situation became urgent. I pleaded my case, becoming more insistent as I realized it was quite possible that they might not let me leave. I begged, I cried, I thanked them profusely. I felt thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed.

The leaders relented, and I was allowed to sneak out during the lunch break so my departure wouldn’t disturb anyone’s psychological process.

That evening, I sat eating green curry under the awning of the Wild Orchid hostel, showered and refreshed. I knew that at some point, I would have to ask myself some bigger questions about my choices, but for the time being it felt so good to sit looking at the moon and listening to the laughter around me, sipping beer and writing, openly, in my journal. Even those three days had taught me to appreciate the little details of life. As I admired the people, sights, and sounds around me, something grabbed my attention and I gasped. Walking down the street, with a smile equal to mine, was the Caucasian girl I saw the first day in the center. We locked eyes, shared smiles, and she continued on her way.

I bumped into her again four days later on the island of Koh Tao, running laps in the sand with her sister.