All My Friends and Lovers Leave Me Alone

At one point yesterday, I was worried I wasn't decompressing well enough. I also worried about whether I was maximizing my enjoyment of the beach, if I was swimming a sufficient amount of time, if I should be taking photos of the fire twirlers even though we have so many from prior trips, what time I could get my clothes to the laundry, did I remember to return my beach towel to the resort, if it was okay that I was getting my som tam from the itinerant som tam lady instead of from the resort's restaurant while using the resort's bean bag lounge chair (the answer is yes, BTW) and will the sangthaew (pickup truck taxi) guys be annoyed if I have them take me into town and back (yes and no – they seem annoyed to be asked to drive anywhere, but that is how they make their living and they get paid pretty well for a run to the top of the island).

Letting go is hard work.

I'd like to think I've been particularly wound up because before leaving I had the kids four out of five consecutive weeks and being a single parent means making sure a lot of little things happen. So does being a working professional. And a human connected to others – particularly around the holidays. While I'm loathe to admit that anything is challenging to me without Emily, she did manage our calendar, buy gifts for people and pack the kids when we went away. So I have had some new tasks to take on.

There's also the stress of the divorce. Definitely not something I recommend to anyone, except Tina Turner – she made the right call on that one. 

It would be nice to say that I'm going through a stressful time, so of course letting go will be a little hard and sometimes we think really silly thoughts when we're stressed. If I'm honest, I don't think most of that anxiety can be ascribed to either the divorce or single parenthood. The truth is modern life is stressful and almost everyone I know has some level of anxiety.

Our lives are filled with so many things to manage. But worse, we all live with a lot of noise. We are flooded with information and struggle to discern which of it is correct, useful and important. It can feel like "water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink." All the noise can also obscure when we don't have information at all – or something's being withheld. Do we wear masks to help curb the tripledemic – or is the tripledemic because we wore masks for so long that now the germs are all out in force the moment we take them off – so at some point we have to pay the piper to get back to normal? Do I use paper bags at the grocery because they can be recycled, or plastic because it takes more fuel to make and transport the big heavy paper bags than the light, compact plastic ones – or do I use reusable canvas ones made by little children in third-world sweatshops?

The world is an increasingly complex place where few to none of us can tell you where the food we eat comes from or how many people and resources it took to make my pants. Our globalist world means we are all interconnected in ways that go beyond what we can realistically fathom. From that interconnection come amazing advancements, opportunities, products and services – and also lots of things that can sweep our feet out from under us like a novel virus in China leading to a shortage of cars and two years of masks and deaths and children behind on their schooling. Or an unexpected war between Russia and Ukraine leading to soaring oil prices and famine in numerous poorer countries.

We also benefit and are challenged by the advance of technology. I'm sitting on the porch of my Ko Samet bungalow writing this blog, texting with people at home, catching up on the email that came in the night. I can be here – and other places – because technology has given me new flexibility. In turn, I never fully disconnect. That could also be a summation of most of 2020 when people worked from home or wherever, finding the boundaries between life and work increasingly blurred. Last week I was trying to get a refund on a product and it required three steps. I did them all only the last one led to an error page no matter what I did. I had to contact customer support and that was another half hour to solve something I thought was already solved and never imagined would eat up a half hour. We've all had that experience..

There is so much to try to keep track of, understand and manage. To accomplish it all, we expend internal resources to become tougher, sharper and vigilant. Who wouldn't find themselves anxious at least some of the time?

I know people on a spectrum of anxiety ranging from those who consciously struggle with theirs often employing medication, therapy and management techniques to anxiety deniers whose anxious energy could power a small town. I also know a few people who manage to take things in stride most of the time – but who have their understandable freak out moments when their choice to be less vigilant backfires. Not that I'm condemning that strategy. Sometimes it's better to pay a price here and there for an overall better situation.

I live in a beautiful upper-middle-classs suburb with great school and a great standard of living – especially for children. People are friendly and usually appreciate what they have – because in several key ways, Westlake Village is so rare. Nonetheless, everyone has their way of managing their stress whether it's biking in the town's well-reputed wide bike lanes (often dressed like it's the Tour de France), hitting one of the many chain or boutique gyms, walking, hiking, tennis, swimming, running, golf, marital arts, pilates, barre, meditation, acupuncture, chiropractic, reiki, massage, bodywork, energy work, aromatherapy, and of course – my choice-  yoga. Everyone in Westlake is like the Indigo Girls, it's all very "I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains, I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains…."

The good life is not without its price.

As life has felt more stressful to me over the past couple of years – particularly this last – I struggle on days when I don't get in my yoga. I've become like Danny Rojas in Ted Lasso "Yoga is life!" 

While swimming through the bathtub warm and calm water of Ko Samet yesterday, I thought "This is so healthy – just to be out here, in this water, swimming around enjoying all of this beauty – letting go. Everyone should get a break like this."

Then I wondered what was so healthy about it? A speedboat had recently brought someone from the mainland to the makeshift pier at Ao Vongduean. So is the water clean? And I had a Thai iced tea for breakfast – that can't be that healthy. Certainly the amazing pineapple I had not that long before swimming was healthy – but I also don' know who cut it, or where and what standards of sanitation they had (which is something you have to completely stop asking in a country like Thailand. People here are pretty solid hand washers and you take your consolation there). Really, it may just be the act of letting go that's healthy. Except that I left my money, wallet and keys in my hat back at my seat covered over by a sarong – so shouldn't I be checking back at least once in awhile? Maybe it's the beauty and sun – and the gratitude for it all. Gratitude is important and healthy. So I can feel solid about that.

At home, a big part of the conversation around healthy has to do with food. The general consensus seems to be that eating healthy means swimming upstream in some way. If we just went and bought the easiest food to get  - most of what is in a major chain grocery store – we would be eating some really terrible stuff, especially the majority of the items in the middle of the store. I know many people who have chosen plant-based, vegan and gluten-free diets that take a high degree of consciousness and vigilance to maintain and operate – especially if they want their ingredients to be clean and quality, which goes part and parcel with the reason to undertake these diets. Some people – like me – just want their kids eating food without chemicals, hormones and pesticides. That also takes work and money. Choosing to eat real food is a project to take on and a financial commitment. Again, there's vigilance.

I realize many of these are first world (literally) problems. Compared to most of the world, people living in my socio-economic group are kings and queens. Literally, we live in more comfort and luxury than Middle Ages to Renaissance royalty whose castles and palaces were really so uncomfortable most Americans would sooner take a Motel 6 down the street. 

Still, our lives have tremendous weight and challenge, even if in subtle ways we don't realize are taxing. I believe the world is becoming a place that in some ways is taxing our brains that don't evolve at the same pace. A hundred years ago, most people had never owned a car, let alone known how to operate one. Today everyone has their lives – and those of countless others – in their hands every second of every day. Underneath it all, in our subconscious, we understand the risks we take – the weight of the choices we make – the fact that we could potentially hurt, kill or maim someone in a split second because of a moment of misjudgment or our tired eyes simply closing without notice.

The thing I like – and I assume most of the others sweating alongside me – about yoga I that it forces you to let go for a moment. If you're going to stand on one leg, turn your body sideways parallel to the wall and stick one hand up in the air and the other down toward the floor (half moon pose) in 100 degrees and 50 percent humidity, there's really no opportunity to also think about your grocery list, the email you need to respond to – or even that incredibly annoying thing your spouse did that morning. There's just you, your body and the heat. That's your break. Of course a lot of meditative practices and forms of exercise do this too – that's a major part of the appeal.

All of this to say, vacation can be scary – especially at first. Maybe it's because I'm vacationing alone for the first time in a long time that I see it so clearly. Maybe I'm usually just as much a wreck the first few days. Or being with my family means I am not really faced with letting go in quite the same way – they are part of the routine and obligation of life. When I went to Patmos March to May of this year, it wasn't quite the same because I worked the whole time and in some way had a framework of purpose. I was spending 10 weeks living on Patmos. This week in Ko Samet is vacation (minus a few work calls and emails which seem unavoidable). And it's just me. 

I wanted it this way. I have friends in Thailand I could have gone to or paired up with. I could have chosen another country or invited someone along for this leg of the trip. I wanted this week by myself to just be. To let go of the grocery shopping, cooking, working, errands, schedules, employees, boss, congregants and the quirks and needs of the many people in my life I so love. Everyone needs something from each other. Most people also give to each other. I have a life full of wonderful people who I love and appreciate and am grateful for that. Once in awhile, it's nice to sit alone, let my life go silent and listen to what's left. All the "shoulds", worries, weights, cares, joys, loves, desires, goals, hopes, achievements, fears, sadnesses, vulnerabilities, ambitions, beliefs, questions, convictions, hypocrisies, power, agency, needs, attachments….

I could have gone to Bali for it. I wanted to go to Bali and wrestled with it repeatedly. Over the past year, Bali has scared me. Bali is an old lover – Bali nurtures souls, heals wounds, wraps its moist, fragrant air around you and promises you'll be safe and cared for there. Bali has yoga, delicious and healthy food, music, dance, art – Bali would nurse me back to health. I would want to stay. Like Calypso, Bali would offer me every excuse and reason to abandon my life and stay with her and I would have so little will to fight her. That's not right for me now.

Ko Samet is much more dispassionate. I come for Ko Samet, Samet cares little of me except to allow me to enjoy solitude on its baby powder white sand beaches. I can take what I want, but Samet isn't going to actively give anything. 

Today – Christmas Eve in a place where Christmas all but doesn't exist except for a few decorations as a nod to the guests – I will go back to my bean bag by the beach, I will swim in the water without looking back (because it really is quite safe), I will eat the amazing pineapple, read my book, not think about how healthy or not the Thai iced tea is, and get a massage. If I go to "town" to pick up my laundry, I won't care if the sangthaew driver is happy or not for my business. I will take one step further down the path of letting go. Because if I really think about it, how much of it ACTUALLY matters. And then I release.