Chapter 4 – What just happened?

Chapter 4 – What just happened?

"We should go to Koh Lak over the weekend," John made the comment as we walked out to the last surf session with Leeor.

Since I just bought the tickets to Ubon Ratchatani on a whim, throwing caution to the air, and taking a chance to meet the lady I have been chatting with on LINE, I had not yet told him of my Sunday and Monday plans.

In some ways, I don't even think Pla truly believed I would show up. But when I say I am going to do something, I follow through on my word.

"You should come with us to Naka Cave," Pla wrote back when I told her I would arrive in Ubon Ratchatani on Sunday afternoon.

"I wish," I wrote back. "You all leave Friday afternoon. My son leaves in the morning. It is impossible. Besides, you are going with your lady friends. You all should have a great time. You have been planning this for a long time. When you get back, you and I can go to dinner and explore your city."

"Ok," texts have no personality, and yet, one can feel through the words the state of the inner realm of the writer. "Would you like to go visit a beautiful temple?"

My Thai Massage training with Pichest Boonthume over the last 18 years has imprinted a deep respect, appreciation, and affinity for Buddhism in me. So much so, that I seek out temples in every city I visit in Thailand. In fact, Khanom, where I built my Yoga Studio, is home to a most magical cave that I call 'the cave of Mother Buddha' because when you walk into the cave, there is a statue of a mother with a nursing Buddha baby.

The name Buddha is given to Siddhartha Guatama after his epiphany under the Bodhi tree.

The Buddha often pointed out that 'we are all Buddhas.' Since the term Buddha simply means 'someone who knows.' 

They asked the Buddha if he was a 'God.' The Buddha smiled and said 'no.'

They asked him if he was a 'Saint.' The Buddha smiled and said 'no.'

'What are you?' they asked. The Buddha smiled and said 'I am awake.'

I've been sharing this cute tale for over 15 years. The recognition that most of us walk around in a sleep-like state, either worried about the past, scared of the future, confused at why we struggle, or envious of those with more than us.

I fall into this pattern myself. But I have had too many moments of recognition that such thinking and worrying is a waste of time. And while it is difficult to move away from such thinking when we are gripped with immediate stress or tension, stepping away, what some would call "meditation" which is a reduction of the true meaning of the word, but heck, it is what it is, we are able to gain a new perspective.

Before I had Yoga as vocabulary, I realized that sitting on my surfboard and looking out at the horizon helped clear whatever stress I thought I had onshore. Whether it was a cheating girlfriend, a failed exam, or loss of money. Sitting in the water, observing the ocean for a surfable wave, truly immersed in the moment and not in the past or future, changed my inner attitude. So much so, that when I was back in the car, those stresses did not have the same grip on my heart or mind. I still had to deal with them, but it was less heavy or burdensome.

Yoga provided vocabulary, daily practice, and a sense of a bigger picture revealed.

Pichest calls Thai Massage, 'Yoga.' His ability to express that Thai Massage is first a practice to connect to the bigger picture is one of the main reasons he is my teacher. That I learned how to move with the dance that is Nuad Boran (ancient healing), how to connect with my body so that I can ensure that both myself and the receiver benefit. How to assess my client and provide a session that supports their physical relaxation and through that a sense of healing, those are all bonus elements of my time with Pichest. But it is the fact that he holds space for the bigger picture through morning and afternoon prayers, which are basically expressions of gratitude to the teachings of the Buddha, to the life given to us from our Mother and Father, and the various teachers throughout time who live to express the deeper meaning and create communities of people that help one another, is why I go back regularly, and why I know many of the Buddhist prayers. And why I visit temples in every town I live or visit when I am in Thailand.

So of course, I got excited reading Pla's text and replied: "That would be amazing!

With my son around, there was no reason to share with John about my travel plans, nor to fill him in on the fact that despite his random hookups using the app he gave me, I had focused on communicating with just one person. Yes, I received likes from other women, and even engaged in liking others, but outside of Pla, every interaction was followed with 'short time or long time?' Which basically signifies that the person is simply looking to get paid, and thinking all I wanted was sex.

Sex is nice. Sex is fun. Lord knows I have had a few too many partners in my short life. Though after being introduced to David Deida's teaching before I took my first trip to Thailand and India, sex has taken a different dimension.

Where the first book I read about yoga, "Dreams of a Yogi: The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali," translated the first sentence in this way: 'Yoga is to find God.' Deida's words 'Finding God thru Sex' changed and positioned sex in a totally different way in my interaction with intimacy.

Through the shock of my ex-girlfriend leaving the way she did, despite the cash and time invested in making our lives grow, I found myself listening to Deida's recordings with a new set of ears. I found that I could look at the 3 years together, and accept that I could have served her better. Not through money and business building, but through the principles that Deida teaches about what are the gifts the Masculine can offer his woman and the world. Gifts that I recognized I held back until her Feminine gifts were shared.

I remember an inner shift I had about 3 months earlier. There are moments when you realize shifts are there to stay, not just an interesting idea to play with.

His ideas and teachings I was familiar with for years. In fact, I can easily talk about them and share, and often do. Yet, recognizing them to be embedded deeply, and operating from that place, is like working with breath in yoga. You can understand it, and even feel it, but it takes years before you actually recognize that breath is leading movement, versus your mind thinking you are moving with breath.

Where sex was a way to practice Deida's ideas, my inner epiphany laid at the root of making 'love stay.' The question that drove me to the library so many years ago and searched where did the author Tom Robbins get his ideas to write the book "Still Life with Woodpecker." The question that drives the book. The question that has plagued artists, poets, and lovers from time immemorial, 'how to make love stay?'

At the time of this epphany, I had no idea how it would play into the future. Nor did it really matter. Yet, I knew that it has changed how I was looking at the relations between men and women when I found John's sexual activity unpalatable to my soul. Of course, I was attracted to the images he sent me. When you smell a good chocolate cake, it will flare open your nostrils. When you see a pretty woman in the skimpiest bikini, as you see many on the beach of Phuket, there is an appreciation, same as when you see a blooming flower or a setting sun. But the need to own it, to eat it, or to keep it for oneself is obviously selfish and serves no deeper depth. And while John assures himself that he is "giving back" to every woman he visits, he seeks the cheapest prices and argues for the lowest price he can pay. And knows that in Thailand it is just easy, which is why he lives here.

I always knew this side of foreign men existed, but it was the first time I had a chance to be exposed to it beside the fleeting moments when I would go out to the parties or have drinks at night.

'Sex to find God.' Where one can gift this awareness, and that means that personal desire for pleasure is far secondary. That awareness became grounded in a far deeper way because of the shock I experienced through my last relationship. In many ways, it turned the shock and desire to be angry into a deep sense of gratitude. 

I may be grateful and appreciative of what I gained by facing my own demons, but I keep her and her horrible-looking man blocked on all channels.

As Krishna Das, an individual who had the privilege of living with a man who embodied the essence of giving unconditional love, says during his Loving-Kindness meditation, "may those who have hurt and caused me pain live with health, love, and harmony but stay far away from me."

John’s honesty and dedication to surfing, allowed me to ignore his sexual addiction, and appreciate that my orientation to the topic has deepened. How will it serve my next partner? That would be the test of my life’s journey. Yet, Deida’s words about ‘serving your partner’ settled in my soul in a new way. Rather than expecting anything from my partner, I would be giving. Which was what I thought I was doing before. Yet, much like you will discover that what you thought was breath connected movement in your first few years practicing Ashtanga Yoga, was actually a mind game, and there will come a point where you actually ‘see’ how your breath moves the body, and everything you did prior was mind games.

That’s natural. It’s the process of maturity and growth in practice. Most adults settle into a sense of stagnant living – work, home, maybe the gym, eating, sleeping, maybe some sex (they say that married couples complain that after a few years the intimacy is hardly there). Tom Robbins offers a unique answer to ‘how to make love stay?’ Where each of the answers hints at the importance of a spontaneous childlike disposition.

1.  Tell love you are going to Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if love stays, it can have half. It will stay.
2. Tell love you want a memento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a mustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.
3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning.” (I highly recommend reading Still Life with Woodpecker).

Patanjali, the ‘father’ of modern yoga, approached the whole subject of spirituality as a scientist. His first principle of Yoga in action (Yoga being the ever-arching word about being in the ‘Now,' and allowing the essence of existence to live through our mind-body. As opposed to the way the word is used in commercials and daily vernacular, where the word evokes pretzel-like physical contortions, in the eyes of those who avoid the practice, or physical postures that can heal, strengthen and improve the body, in the eyes of those who do the practice) I translate into Enthusiasm. Tapah, as it is written in Sanskrit, refers to an inner ‘fire.’ Enthusiasm is an inner fire. Can you bring that fire to each moment of the day? To each moment with your lover?

That is an interesting approach to the word Yoga Practice.

Considering that Pla was taken aback by my unconventional lifestyle, yet intrigued enough to continue talking to me. Considering that our texts and phone conversations have flowed and mingled with laughter and appreciation, I bought my tickets to experience both her city and her moment-by-moment reality. With no expectation and just a pure sense of enthusiasm, I did not have the words to express to John the nature of my decision. Nor did I feel I needed to seek out such vocabulary.

“We are going to watch ‘The Sandlot’ tonight,” I told John as he paid the bill for dinner. He wanted to take us out on Leeor’s last night.

“The Sandlot, that’s a great film. I think I’ll come watch it with you and skip on meeting you in the morning.” John has joined us for a few films and dinners already. I keep an open-door attitude with my friends. ‘Mi Casa, Su Casa,’ as the saying goes (my house is your house).

The following morning Leeor and I don’t have to rush. His flight is at noon, and this is the second time he flies home by himself. This was his first full trip all on his own. A truly empowering situation, both for himself as a young adult and his parents. We are spared the costs and the extra time it requires to pick him up and return him.

I watch him go through security all on his own, with a tinge of sadness. I love my boy, and having him with me on a daily basis is always magical. Yet, I will see him again, as I do every year (except for the 3 years of Covid) in a few months. I send his departure video to John and inquire if he checked the surf.

I did text John earlier that day, both to share with him about Leeor’s departure and to see what the surf conditions were, along with what beach he is heading to that morning. While he has been surfing Kamala almost daily for a month, we had surfed the reef of Nai Yang the morning prior. The reef is a long paddle, yet the surf was memorable. I personally had some of the best wave reading all month, with minimal pain from my toe or the bottom of my foot. Thank the Lord for booties. Rubber shoes that protect from reef cuts.

I did not think much about the fact that he did not reply to either the morning texts or the afternoon message.

I had a coaching session with my student, and then decided to go check out Kamala, since I can easily rent a board on that beach. I had returned the rental car after dropping Leeor at the airport, and discovered on the first day after the surf racks were installed on my motorcycle that riding with a long board all the way to Kamala is a precarious trip.

It was a beautiful Friday afternoon, bright sun and minimal wind.

I decided to enjoy the back-road drive to Kamala, in the back of my head the possibility of checking the surf in other spots on my way south.

When I reached the area known as Boat Avenue and discovered that the evening market started setting up, closing off one of the streets I intended to use, I noticed a car pulling out of a second street. It looked like the car was about to turn into the lane, giving me enough time to sneak between the traffic jam and into the open side road.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself on the street looking up at my left foot and wondering if my vision was blurred since my foot was no longer in line with the rest of the lower leg.

“Where did you come from?” was the second thought that popped in my head. With the first immediate words were “I got hit, that’s weird. But the bike is ok, no problem.”

Thoughts can feel like they happen in a context of time, but technically they happen in the speed of light, and when I saw my foot I knew I was not going to the beach.

The fact that I could push my foot back into place, with no pain and drag myself to the sidewalk is still something of a shock as I write these words. Yet, I was clear-headed and calm, smiling and assuring the driver that I understand it was my fault.

I pulled out my phone and took a picture of my motorbike under the grill of the black van and shot a text to John “I got hit on the way to the beach. I won’t make surfing today. Have fun.

At the time I did not really think about the fact that his reply came in within seconds.

What I recall from the message, which I will read more carefully the next morning while lying on a hospital bed, was “If you really need help, you can call me, but you are a self-centered person and if I could survive a foot infection and Covid, you will be ok.”

Deida preaches that since we cannot see our own eyeball, other people's feedback is valuable if we are on a spiritual growth path. “Self-centered?” I recall writing back. “Thank you for the feedback. I don’t intend to be self-centered, and your words encourage me to look at myself and grow.”

“It’s just who you are, it will never change. Your motorbike tags did not arrive yet, but I will look for them, and when they arrive, I will get them to you, but there is no reason to call me for help. You can manage on your own.”

I am holding a broken ankle in my hands, assuring passersby that I am ok and that I don’t need water, and the cops just arrived. I have no time to really process his words, which strike me as careless and inappropriate, so I just text “I never expected you to help me, nor did I ask for your help. I know I can take care of myself. Thanks for your feedback, have a good afternoon.” And put my attention at the immediate moment.

As I answer the cops and show them my Thai license and ID, and as I smile at the driver and accept responsibility, a different thought floats in my head. “I am not going to make it to Ubon Ratchathani.”

I text Pla “I just got hit by a car. I have a broken ankle.” I know she is about to take a 5-hour drive with her girlfriends to Naka Cave. The ambulance arrives and I don’t have time to check messages anymore.

When I am finally at the Chern Talay hospital, lying on a bed waiting to be X-rayed and possibly placed into a cast (or so I had hoped, since it was a clean break), I can look back at the phone.

“Oh no!” Pla’s text is far more reflective of a person who cares that I am injured, and she has yet to meet me. “Are you ok?”

“I am ok. I have no pain.” I write back. “I am in the hospital waiting to get X-rayed.”

“You have to be careful!” Her text is true, yet, the time for that advice is now gone. “I hope everything goes ok. But I don’t think you will be able to travel to Ubon.”

“I thought I was careful, but true, since I got hit I had a lapse in judgment.” I am still processing what happened. I never get hit. I slide, I fall, but getting hit? I pride myself on being extra cautious when I drive a motorbike. A real-world meditation, where I am aware of the peripheral world around me. Yet, here I am, on a hospital gurney with a broken ankle. “I’ll keep you posted. You just have fun with your friends! Have a great trip to the cave.”

“You are going to need surgery,” I put my phone down and digest the information the nurse is giving me.

“Are you sure?” I ask. My years teaching yoga and Thai Massage don’t make me a doctor, but surgery sounds like a serious procedure, time-consuming, and expensive. “It’s a clean cut. Why not just put a cast on it and I can go home?”

“You cannot do that. It will not heal correctly and you will never walk right again.” Her face is stern, she is not joking or taking the situation as lightly as I am. And with those words, I suddenly realize I am being way too calm about the whole situation.

“How much is it going to cost?” I ask her.

“Let me check,” and she walks back to the nurse station and begins to fumble with the computer. “You have insurance?” she asks me from where she is standing.

“No,” I inform her. “I will pay cash out of pocket.”

She returns to her keyboard.

I return to my phone.

I suppose I should call my mother. I dial her, and my call is denied. A message follows: ‘Elijah (my sister’s youngest son) is having his first sleepover. Phone off till tomorrow.’

When my niece, Arielle, stays over, the phone is turned off. I decide I will not freak my mom out with a text, and when I return to the main screen, my student had sent a message.

Madeleine is a special human being. I knew it from the first day I met her as a visiting teacher in Goes, Netherlands. A soft-natured lady, who obviously was interested in Ashtanga. As a teacher, one learns to identify where a student's focus and dedication lie. Things that you cannot teach, simply observe and be in awe with.

I would learn after the practice that she has been working hard to memorize the sequence, and whether it was her teachers praising me, or my mini tips and adjustments during this first practice, I am honored at how elated she is talking to me and praising what I had given her.

Over the past 4 years, our student-teacher relationship has deepened to a true life-long friendship, with life coaching. I had the pleasure of meeting her husband and her children, and she is one of very few students that engage with the physical practice but appreciate how I constantly remind her of the deeper essence of Ashtanga.

In the last two years, she has also appreciated the Deida recordings I shared with her, to help manage expectations with her husband and discover her own feminine depth, since she tends to be the ‘leader’ in her home.

Ashtanga Yoga tends to make women very masculine, and it requires a unique approach to teaching the style so that femininity blossoms through this very demanding practice.

I credit my teachers Tim Miller and Anthony ‘Prem’ Carlisi, along with personal meditation on Deida’s work, for giving me the skills to explain this to those who are interested.

Madeleine is one of the rare few who have chosen to discuss and approach the practice with a different attitude.

Madeleine was just with me in Phuket and Khanom. This was her second trip out to Thailand, through our friendship and our coaching, we communicate weekly, if not daily.

“Hope you are having a nice Friday,” reads her text. She was the student who was hanging out with us and knew my son was leaving that morning.

“It is not too bad,” I respond. “I did get into an accident though, and looks like I will need surgery.”

Meanwhile, the nurse informs me that I can have surgery that evening at a different hospital if I show I have the cash.

I do have some cash on me, and I blur out to my friend, “Dang, the surgery will cost 3000EU. I am glad I have the money.”

Madeleine is one of the first people I could easily talk about money with. Whether during my challenges with my ex-girlfriend, or simply through day-to-day life. More than just someone I could talk to, she has helped me and has loaned me money when things got complicated with my various businesses in Khanom. To have such a friend in one's life is a gift I have minimal words to describe. The fact that I could be honest about money, and have her listen was enough. That she was able to offer support until my business sells, has strengthened my faith and gratitude.

So, you can imagine my utmost mental relaxation, heart expansion, and sheer happy shock when I read her response after withdrawing the money needed to approve my surgery and have the ambulance from the Mission hospital come to get me. “You have the 3000EU in your bank. This way you don’t have to stress over money and just focus on healing.”

God is not some creature living in an imaginary heaven. God lives in each and every one of us. God lives in every plant, rock, and animal. God is revealed when such kindness is extended. And as I ride in the ambulance to Mission hospital, I recognize yet again what Sri K Pattabhi Jois, the person who was given the reins to share Ashtanga Yoga physical practice with the world, would say when asked ‘what is yoga?’

Without any hesitation, he would answer ‘Yoga is to find God.’

I know, I was in a room with him when someone asked this.

I knew then he would always be my teacher.

As much as I have known in many moments since I found God at 19 on my first ecstasy experience, and would not have the words or the ability to talk about it until I was 25, and yoga vocabulary rooted in my being.

As I was heading to Mission hospital, 8 hours after the accident happened, and still smiling and cracking jokes with the attendants in the car, I was also extremely aware of my luck and fortune at having people like Madeleine in my life.

‘Self-centered,’ John wrote earlier, and I looked at those words deeply, and yet still could not find how they had any truth. I pay off all my debts, and there is no doubt between Madeleine and I, that this money will be paid back. It was not something I asked for, but was an extension of what Yoga philosophy says: ‘see yourself in other beings, and see other beings in yourself, and all your fears will disappear.’

That I have no fear of the upcoming surgery, no ill thoughts toward myself for lying in an ambulance, nor toward the driver who hit me. That I am filled with gratitude for the nurses and the individuals who stopped and asked how I was doing. That I am calm beyond measures because I don’t have to stress about money, and I am in awe at my friendship with Madeleine, all boil into one word. “God” has a hand in guiding my life.

How God would reveal himself again and again is why I wrote this mini-book. And God’s hands have only just begun to weave the scarf that I could wrap around my being.