"We can travel a long way and do many different things, but our deepest happiness is not born from accumulating new experiences. It is born from letting go of what is unnecessary and knowing ourselves to be always at home."
Sharon Salzberg, Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness
When Teacher was a young boy, coming home from school each day, something didn't seem quite right to him. As soon as he walked through his front door, it felt like he was a stranger in his own house. Then, for the first time, he sat down to meditate. Telling his story, Teacher closed his eyes and recalled the experience. "Finally," he said softly, smiling and pointing to his heart, "I was home."
In a few hours, I'll be boarding a flight from Bangkok to New York, where I'll catch an Amtrak to my beloved Baltimore. Over the past ten weeks, I've been on planes, trains, buses, minivans, cabs, tuk-tuks, and songthaews. I've lumbered up the Mekong on a slow boat, paddled a kayak through mist-covered islands, and alit distant shores on ferries and longtail boats. I've walked down Ahtit Road, climbed Phu Si Hill, and almost went to Pee Pee Island, and I'd like a little credit for not giggling and acting like a total nine-year old about it...until now.
For a few fleeting seconds, I was even on a motorbike.
During all that time, though, I wasn't far from home. In fact, I was never really gone at all.
I want to thank all of you for allowing me to share my stories. This blog took on a life of its own, and I hope you've had a fraction of the fun reading my tales as I've had writing them. It was kind of a journal, a divine burst of creativity, and an intensive therapy session all rolled up in one for me. Maybe you got something out of it as well. Thanks to those who sent me notes of encouragement and empathy, good humor, and bad jokes. They really meant a lot to me. As an aside, TravelPod has selected my blog to be featured on its website in the coming months, so I'm grateful for that as well, though I'm a tad uncomfortable with the idea that thousands of strangers will soon be reading about me crying like a schoolgirl.
If this were a real book, this is the part where I'd say that any resemblance of individuals, living or dead, to the characters in this blog may be more than coincidental. I was too damned lazy to change the names of people or places, so if you recognized yourself or someone else in these entries, you're probably right on the fucking money. All of what you read was original material, composed by yours truly, with the exception of the stuff I borrowed, plagiarized, or outright stole. I'm kidding, of course, though I'd like to thank the Lonely Planet for supplying me with a few geographical, political, and historical tidbits.
Special thanks:
To my entire family for their unconditional love and support, especially to my mom for the cool digital camera and for pretending not to be anxious about my trip when she was probably out of her friggin' mind; to my dad for truly knowing why I needed to do this; to my Aunt Ellen and Uncle Amy for the meditation cushion, which now has a well-defined ass-groove; and to my Uncle Bob for the incredibly helpful travel tips.
To Jeff, Jerome, and the legion (or at least dozens) of captain jack fans for granting me a three-month hiatus from the band. Assuming I still remember how to play guitar, we'll be back in action in a few short weeks- go to http://www.captainjacktheband.com for more details!
To Erica W. for taking care of my house while I was away; and more importantly, for coping with my cat's unexpected medical crisis like the champ that she is. I owe you big time, sport!
To Austin, my super-cool "little brother" for being so patient with me while I was away; and to Laura D. for transcribing a kid-friendly version of my blog so he could come along on this trip with me.
To Tracy S. for the amazing travel journal, without which this blog would never have been written.
To Tania S. and Jen E. for inspiring me through their own life-affirming journeys across the world.
To Big Brothers Big Sisters of Central Maryland, for downsizing me out of a job, which forced me to think about what I really wanted to do with my life. Sometimes the best gifts are wrapped in the ugliest of papers.
To everyone at the International Buddhism Center at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai, Thailand; especially Adichai and Buddhasak (Teacher).
To Matt and Maddie, Astrid, Pascale, Christina, Frank, Dikla, and the hundreds of wandering souls with whom I was incredibly fortunate to cross paths along the way. If you ever need a place to crash in Baltimore, just let me know.
And to the amazing people of Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia for their indescribable grace, friendliness, and hospitality.
One of my favorite storytellers once remarked that many of us spend so much time worrying about choosing the "right" path that we wind up standing still, paralyzed by indecision, forgetting that what really counts is to just start walking, because every path is getting shorter at the far end. To everyone who wrote that you were living vicariously through my travels, don't forget that your own journey is waiting patiently for you. When you're ready to go, I hope you find yourself willing to blaze your own trail, put yourself in uncomfortable situations, and let go of what's no longer needed in your life. If you do, I promise that adventure, self-discovery, and happiness will seek you out. What you do from there is up to you. Most of all, I wish you well in finding that elusive road we are always searching for.
The way back home.
In lovingkindness,
Steve
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