Every time I feel sad, I frantically reach for the phone to call my mom or to search the web for a feel good video or I pull out my journal cause writing makes me feel better, right? How is this any different than a baby reaching for its blanket or a puppy reaching for another head scratch… nothing will suffice. It’s just a quick relief of comfort.
Being in Bangkok is no different. I’m now finishing my third week of physical therapy in Bangkok and instead of being with myself, instead of meditating, instead of making strides in my village I’ve been here. “Sitting. Waiting. Wishing.”
I sit, finding comfort in the dreams of people just passing through. I wait for the next physical therapy session where I’ll be touched, taken care of, heard. I wish… wish my Peace Corps experience was like the rest, wish I could connect with my friends on their level of pain and suffering, wish I didn’t have access to everything at every moment and wish I wasn’t afraid to go back to site where all this access will quickly be taken away.
The truth is, maybe I like Bangkok. Maybe I like the way people talk about every place they’ve gone as a sense of accomplishment that defines them. Maybe I like cheese and Starbucks coffee, and maybe these are just the comforts of my well-worn blanket. I’m scared to let it go.
Last week, I saw a Reiki master. We went for coffee and ended up splitting a 12-ounce green juice… cause it’s “better”. We sat and talked for awhile as I felt clouded, from the lack of caffeine in my blood, and uneasy, cause what we were talking about felt so close to everything I know to be true. He calmly discussed the way Reiki works through your chakra points, unleashing the power within (those definitely weren’t his words but they sound cool). We talked about a moment in my life when my throat felt blocked. At the time, it had been about six months since I moved back home and I had just discovered that my boyfriend at the time hadn’t been forthcoming with information that I felt to be of great value for the success of our relationship. I felt trapped and stifled as I transitioned back into old cycles and ways of life I had lived before moving away from home. As I was able to recognize that I was not speaking my truth, I applied lavender to my throat chakra and meditated habitually. It helped and was gone after three days. Then I was right back to it, old ways, old cycles, suffocation. Maybe I like suffocating? Suffocating at home, suffocating in my thoughts, suffocating in the big city of Bangkok, suffocating in relationships that don’t serve me or the other person involved. Suffocation is the blanket I’ve always reached for and know so well. It’s what I resort back to. I hug it tight and am reminded of the me I know myself to be.
As I’m ready to return back to site (hopefully), I think of the reiki master. As he rested his hands on my stomach I felt a presence at the top of my head. Holding space for me, for him, as the master reached for the sadness that sits deep in my gut, feeling the pain I’ve acquired through years of reaching for the phone, the journal, the blanket. I am choosing not to suffocate this time. To hold my head above the covers by accessing self-healing. Reiki, Tarot, essential oils, and meditation. Trusting the energy that protected me during the Reiki session will be there to protect me as I allow myself to feel. Feel the pain, the sadness, and all the junk that sits in my gut waiting to be touched, taken care of, heard, and unleashed.