Peace Prayer Day

As I write this I'm in a room surrounded by yogis chanting for peace. They've been chanting since 7am and will continue until 7pm. Today, at my yoga retreat, it's Peace Prayer Day. It's a change of pace here as no classes are taught after the morning classes and the rest of the day's activities are devoted solely to cultivating peace. It's free and open to the public, exemplifying the theme of inclusion.

Being emotional up here isn't out of the norm, as we're meditating, doing yoga, and connecting to ourselves and others all day. I never know what to expect or what will come up for me as I dive deep into self-reflection. I often discover new pieces of myself or old hurts that need some attention. To my surprise this day of peace has been my most intense so far. Lots of tears were shed as I was moved by the day's event and began to discover a wide-range of feelings. Today, I was mostly overwhelmed by the feeling of togetherness as we worked together to create peace and love between friends and strangers.

I think it's hard in our society for us to be vulnerable. We walk around with guards up and masks on feeling alone, misunderstood, and unseen. This retreat, more than anything, gives me permission to take of the mask and let my guard down and just be. I feel, I process, I heal, and, most importantly, I do this with many other people. It's such an amazing feeling to be fully accepted at your most vulnerable state.

Part of Peace Prayer Day is inviting speakers who exemplify the theme. This year it was the Interfaith Amigos, which consisted of three leaders of different faiths: Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. I found myself unable to stop crying as these men shared the importance of interfaith communication, learning from one another, and building bridges to stop violence, fear, misunderstandings, and prejudice. They each brought their religious texts and read the most moving and profound scriptures as well as the ones that have been used to fuel hatred, violence, and judgement. They were acknowledging the imperfections in their sacred texts and offering different interpretations that instead spoke of compassion, love, inclusion, and acceptance. Exposing themselves to other religions didn't make them less faithful, instead it deepened their understanding of their own faith as they learn other sacred lessons.

Their message was simple, clear, and so profound. It effected me so deeply that I realized how little peace I had been feeling in our world, in our country, and in myself. They gave me hope. So today, on Peace Prayer Day, to the best of my ability I'm sharing this message of peace with you. Let down your guards, take off your masks, and see, hear, and love each other. Learn about something you don't understand. Let curiosity replace judgment. Open your mind up to the idea that the fundamentals of humanity makes us friends and not strangers and we're more alike than you think. Happy Peace Prayer Day, friends. We're working hard over here to send out peaceful vibes to you and the rest of the world. Help us out, hey? Peace!

Are You Alone?

Alone. It's a complicated word that has both negative and positive connotations. It can invoke feelings of sadness, fear, pity, and shame, but it can also create joy, empowerment, inspiration, and pride. One word that harbors both lightness and darkness. It's been a powerful theme in my life the last six months. After my break-up I found myself on the dark side of being alone, filled with fear at the prospect. Alone. It filled me with so much emptiness and I couldn't seem to grasp any optimistic outlook. It wasn't where I wanted to be and it was hard to cope with that reality. With the darkness enveloping me, I quickly became extremely single sensitive.

I had once enjoyed being the 3rd, 5th, 7th wheel as it was a fun, no pressure way to spend time with some of my favorite couples, but this was no longer the case. I couldn't seem to separate my misery from their joy. Every time I witnessed a whispered sweet nothing, a display of affection, an inside joke, and even joy, it felt like pouring salt in my wound. And I began to feel like the only single person surrounded by marital and relationship bliss highlighting further my loneliness and heart ache. Where were all the single ladies?! Where were other gloomy, miserable people?! I just wanted a few minutes, ok months, to sulk without some Disney romance thrown in my face. Yikes, I had officially taken up residence in Bitterville, home of the whiny and the heartbroken.

At one point, witnessing happy couples use to inspire me and give me hope, but that was easier when I was content with my own life, which obviously I wasn't. Being alone felt like a prison sentence and I found myself dreading my future. Dramatic, I know, but I'm nothing if not full of a constant array of intense feelings. It's the blessing and the curse of a sensitive soul whose life is both beautiful and filled with pain. Another 'gift' of being sensitive is acute self-awareness, so it was not lost on me that my bitterness and pain was creating a problem.

I felt so much shame and guilt for all my self-pity and the negativity spewing out of me. It made my skin crawl and added fuel to my self-hatred fire. What kind of person finds pain in other people's joy?! It disgusted me, but I couldn't escape it. However, I knew I needed to find a way out because I couldn't stand it much longer. That is why no one was invited to join me on my trip to Thailand. I took this trip alone because that's the last thing I wanted to do and I knew I needed to get over it. I had some making up to do with myself and I needed to make peace with being alone. Plus, it'd be nice to feel content enough to enjoy the happiness surrounding me.

Preparing for this trip was different from anything I'd ever experienced. This was not a weekend trip to Vegas, a backpacking trip with friends, or a getaway on the beach. This was a task. It was a calculated challenge forcing me into the world exactly the way I dreaded: alone. It felt weird planning it as, along with moments of excitement, there was this constant pit of anxiety gnawing at me for I feared if I failed this step I would be completely lost. I specifically chose a location that would scare me, away from the familiarity of the Western world and flew my ass across the globe.

The pride and empowerment didn't set in right away. Instead, after a long dissent into the dark world of depression and anxiety, the beginning of my trip was more rejuvenating than anything. There was a lot of down time in the beginning and I allowed myself to slowly unwind. It took about a week for me to stop waking up in a panic attack, residual anxiety unsure of this new, calm space. Then I started to feel my attitude shift towards being alone.

Fellow travelers expressed shock and admiration of my traveling alone as a woman and I started to realize that being alone could symbolize bravery, something to be proud of. My days were packed and full of activity and so I looked forward to my time to decompress with a book, with a journal, with a meal. It was then that I remembered the joy and contentment that can accompany time alone. As I met other solo female travelers an instant connection sparked between us as we shared something special. We all had a story and most of us came through struggle to find answers, to find ourselves. We connected in that struggle and the knowing of what it took to get there, what it took to stay there. Without words, we saw and understood each other. And so I learned that being alone could create a deep sense of unity and support.

One night I sat at a restaurant and a woman asked me, "are you alone?" I smiled, proud, "yes, I am" and so she joined me. We learned that we were both Americans, both had bachelor degrees in Anthropology, both recently turned 30, and both had hearts on the mend. There have many times throughout my trip where I felt among my people, but this was uncanny. We parted ways with a strong embrace feeling connected and relieved for the moments of companionship.

By the last few days of my trip, I felt so comfortable in my skin even in the large city of Bangkok. I navigated public transport (buses, boats, trains, and taxis) with intense language barriers, bartered down to good prices, listened to damn good music as I made my way through busy streets, and propped up at crowded outdoor restaurants with a journal and a good book. I should add that I was virtually free of anxiety for the first time in a very long time. Out of the darkness of being alone I discovered once again the possibility, freedom, contentment, joy, and empowerment that being alone can offer. Also, I got much better at taking selfies.

As I return home, I'm nervous about my ability to stay in this new, empowered place of contentment and freedom. My biggest challenge will be to fight the darkness from rearing its ugly head and to hang on to my new truth of what it means to be alone. I've allowed shame and discomfort to block me from dining, catching movies, going to live music, and having a drink alone, but this will be the first thing I change. I will hold Thailand in my heart, determined to stay comfortable in my skin. Being alone is no longer a prison sentence, but an adventurous look at a life still to be explored. I know there will be challenges ahead, but I also know that I fought for happiness and found it. I looked for answers and found them, I found myself. No matter what happens, I know I can and will do it again if I need to. That alone is empowering. And whether or not I stay single for another week, month, year, or forever, I am happy that I took the time to nurture the most important relationship in my life, the one to myself. To many more years of navigating the seas of life! Xo

Celebrate the Victories!

On the morning of my bus ride to Pai I woke up very anxious. The ride from Chiang Mai consists of 762 curves and I had heard that many people get sick, both because of the curves and the fast driving of the minibus drivers. Now, being sick is not something that worries me, but getting sick in front of other people was a terrifying and humiliating thought.

An unfortunate part of my anxiety is that it often mimics what I'm afraid of, so, naturally, I spent the morning feeling queasy. My nerves motivated me to be well prepared, though. The night before I purchased motion sickness meds, which I made sure to take half an hour before I left. I woke up nice and early so I could eat a good breakfast as I decided to skip lunch and bring a plastic bag, you know, just in case. I also chugged a bunch of water in the morning, as I anticipated rationing my water intake in the hours before my departure in order to avoid another deep fear: having to pee mid-ride.

I was told to arrive 30 minutes early, so naturally I was 50 minutes early. Anxiously I sat and read, which meant I read the same paragraph over and over. I waited until the last minute and went to the bathroom one last time and finally felt ready. The minibus showed up and I thanked my lucky stars there was a seat left next to a window.

As we started out I immediately felt nauseous, which I knew was nerves because the roads were still straight. The first part of the journey stayed straight like that and, oddly enough, that was the hardest part for me. I continued my inner struggle as I tried to figure out if I was actually sick or not and obsessing over where I should look. Maybe I should look out the front window and stare straight ahead, or maybe it's better if I look out the side window and keep finding a focus point, or it might help if I stare at something in the bus... nope that feels weird. I definitely shouldn't read. Don't look at your phone, don't look at your phone, don't do it! After about 45 minutes, I put in my earbuds and began to calm down (and decided that I almost certainly probably wasn't sick, I thought).

Then we began to get into the curvy hills. Up until this point our driver was going pretty fast and the curves didn't seem to slow him down much. Surprisingly, I got very giddy and thought, "weeeeee." Anytime he began to slow down, I thought, "faster, faster." Instantly all my fears of getting sick were replaced by peer joy. Every curve was a welcomed challenge as I braced myself to stay in my seat. It was exhilarating! I spent the next 3 hours blasting music, hanging on, and hoping the ride would never end.

The whole experience had me thinking about this constant duality that I experience: I'm one part anxious wreck and one part adventurous daredevil. Unfortunately, my anxious side seems to over shadow my badassery, at least in terms of how I see myself. I find myself admiring adventurous people and longing to be them, forgetting that I already am one. So, when adventure and excitement melts away my anxiety I feel surprised. I tend to beat myself up a lot for feeling anxious all the time and resent how difficult it can make life at times. Which got me thinking about my inner dialog knowing that it could use some improvement.

I think anxiety makes it extra challenging to feel secure. Anxiety, in general, is over analyzing, worrying, and nitpicking things that probably are mundane to someone else. Lots of times what we worry about is ourselves and how we're perceived, so it's hard to have a positive self-image. Anxiety makes you critical to a fault and I think it makes it hard to see yourself clearly.

So, when I was talking to people about this trip and people would call me brave, it was easy for me to laugh that off. Brave, HA! I was scared shitless. But on the bus, as I gleefully took each curve, I began to see the truth in that. It'd be easy for me to just talk about the fun ride, but it wouldn't acknowledge what it took me to get there. And, to be honest, what I went through that morning is a common process for me, even with a night out in Marquette and, frankly, even just to get out of bed some days. I have to constantly override my anxiety and force myself to do things, even things I enjoy. Realizing this, I've decided to give myself more credit. Instead of being hard on myself for the number of anxious thoughts that I have, I should celebrate my willingness and ability to recognize and accept my fears without letting them deter me.

I said it before and I'll say it again, those who struggle with anxiety are warriors quietly fighting a daily battle just to live. We shouldn't be ashamed of our struggles, but we should wear them like a badge of honor and celebrate our victories.

I should also note that the day after this bus ride, I took a motor bike into those very same hills on the very same curves and had the time of my life. I probably scared the locals as I was singing 'Take Me Home Country Roads' by John Denver (felt appropriate) at the top of my lungs. Sometimes it takes celebrating small victories to give me the confidence to do something truly daring. After a life changing few days in Pai, I'm heading back to Chiang Mai and am so excited for the bus ride! Lots of love! And to my anxious brothers and sisters, hang on tight and celebrate how amazing you are!

Solo Venture

Starting my trip at a Yoga Retreat was exactly what I hoped it'd be: a nice, relaxing introduction to Thailand. Four nights, five days, long enough to calm my nerves before venturing out on my own. In that time I received two massages, a Reiki treatment, a Hadu healing session (hard to explain, but involved drinking water that was infused with good vibes), took six yoga classes and three meditation classes, read two books, and had amazing meals prepared for me. To say I felt relaxed would be an understatement. I also got to visit and get advice from fellow travelers from all over the world. By the end of the weekend I was feeling ready to embrace the next part of my journey, the one that scared me the most, solo travel through Thailand.

I felt anxious on the taxi ride to my next hostel, always afraid of the unknown. Once I arrived I sat, utilizing the internet, trying to make the next step easier, but, no matter how much I researched, I was still going to have to navigate a foreign city alone.

I ventured out feeling unsure of myself, I even attempted talking myself out of the excursions. The devil on my shoulder whispering, "you know what sounds nice?!? A nap. The White Temple doesn't seem that great. Who cares if you take a day to relax instead of explore?" This internal dialog continued as I made one safe lap around the block near my hostel. On my first lap I made sure not to cross any streets, as Chiang Rai has an every-man-for-himself attitude and there are no 'yield to pedestrians' signs.

I knew I needed to take a bus to get to the White Temple (17 km outside the city), so I started on a second lap in search of the bus station, which was at a new location due to construction (i.e. a dirt lot). I was especially nervous about this idea because: 1) I would have to cross a street to get to the bus station, 2) I had no idea where to buy bus tickets once I got there, and 3) I wasn't exactly sure how to get back to Chiang Rai after I was done. I kept wrestling with my thoughts as I walked ominously towards the bus station. Then a man lounging in his Tuk Tuk pointed at me and said, in a heavy Thai accent, "White Temple." Anxious me was eager to talk to someone so I began to blab, "Yes, I'm heading to the bus station now. They say it's only 20 baht, but I'm not quite sure where the bus is..." He looked confused and it's clear he has no idea what I'm saying so he interrupts me and says, "there and back, 300 baht." I pause for a minute reflecting on whether I should abandon the challenge of the bus station. Sensing my hesitation he begins to pantomime with his fingers someone walking around and says, "I wait while you do do do do (again pantomiming) and take you back here." Convinced, I say, "sure, but I want to go to Singha Park, too." He smiles and says, "yes, White Temple, Singha Park."

I climbed into the back of his Tuk Tuk feeling incredibly relieved and excited. I don't know why climbing into that weird vehicle, with one side mirror missing and the other only having one piece of the mirror left, relieved my anxiety, but it did. It felt exhilarating as we weaved in and out of traffic toward the White Temple and I thought I'd take this over a bus any day.

I felt more confident after that to explore and cross streets and navigate in and out of the city with my new secret weapon, the Tuk Tuk. And I did eventually have to find that bus station to get to Chiang Mai. It was kind of chaotic with buses coming in and out of this dirt lot and I was once again relieved for my Tuk Tuk excursion the day before. Luckily the Chiang Mai bus was well marked.

My first day navigating solo in Thailand left me feeling accomplished and a tad bit more comfortable. On to Chiang Mai!