Rain all day. I tried the exotic Tom Yum Coffee, wrote in my journal and hung out with my followers on livestream. These days are simple and providing a stark backdrop for my busy mind to wander and problem solve. Miles I’m walking. Pages I’m filling. Videos I’m uploading. And new songs are flowing in! When I first arrived in Thailand it felt very empty, run down, almost boring, and I heard a voice repeatedly ask, “Why am I here?” Another voice responded without words assuring we would find the reason with patience, paying attention to what the body is asking for. It will reveal itself to us in time.
I beat the brushes on the canvas and didn’t care if the paint smeared into a poop-colored ugly mess. I feel frustrated, emotionally stuck, cluttered. I do not feel like painting. Playing with colors isn’t relieving the symptoms of life. I clearly need to beat something and send vibrations through this body to clear the energy. I knew I wanted a drum on this beach. I saw visions of myself sitting in the sand, watching the waves, playing the hand pan and singing improvised magic languages off a soft tongue. I tried to find a hand pan in Ubud but the good ones are in Hungary. Pao Pamaki told me to buy one from Mag Instruments and take lessons from teachers in Bali. Now I’m here in Thailand it is doubly clear that my body is ready to make music again. Painting cannot reach the deeper crevasse of my soul, only music can flow into those cracks and fill them up. This is why music is like water, like sex. Music, water, sex all belong to the sacral chakra; my favorite chakra.
I see a book flowing out of me quickly now. Pages everyday are surprising me. Where inside me were these words stored away for so long? Now here they are, so beautiful! Most of the words in this growing story have not been written on this blog. They are in phone notes and journals, waiting to be read in a future. Those sentences are so raw and vulnerable for me, pulled from deeper parts of my being, written as a cry and a declaration. It is bold to publish them. I wonder what they’ll feel like to read, gathered and bound. Who will they touch? What will they change?
What am I here for if not to enjoy everything? Between the beach and the palace, I feel called to the beach. I’ve opened up to include so much and now here we are, including so much. It takes fits to keep evolving forward after finding something that worked so well for a moment, for many consecutive moments. Changing direction is scary after the lessons of consistency have been engrained. Why is it so hard to get my head around this?
from the journal….
“Magic is in the music. I want a hand pan. I want a band. I want to sing Kirtan. I want to make music! I want to make medicine music. I want the beach. I need vibration. — What are you goi nag to do about it? — We can go sing on the beach. We can go buy a guitar or a drum. We can buy a hand pan. We can dance to music.”
He told me I was born to play with the color pink.
love & rainbows,
Cha Wilde