Being grateful

 Having nothing at all is such a freeing idea. Get outta the city. Hit the road on your motorbike. The journey is a destination in and of itself. You are constantly reacting to new things 

happening all around you. You are always making the most of your surroundings. Every new place you go is a story to be told. Writing about it will get you everywhere. In this afternoon

writing session I hope to uncover the wiring of my obsessions. This is the way of things. You seem to find ideas and opportunities everywhere. Looking at this Bangkok video and you see that 

life on either end of the spectrum is dangerous. Getting out too much and not getting out enough. There must be a thorough mix of the two. Here's the thing, I can't find any excitement 

since I'm back from that environment. A few things stand out here, and one of them is the time we were all playing cards as a family in Udon Thani. That was worth the trouble. I've had 

to make so many sacrifices with Aiya. Most of this writing business is done in the hope of finding out what the hell's going on with me. Another part of it is feeling the music of the 

writing. The books are here all written down, and the only thing that remains to do is to read them all. Why is my boat lying on the skeg? Why am I feeling a little broken at the idea of 

heading back to Thailand, and as if things won't be the same? I was a merman out of water and I had a beautiful lady beside me. But I wanted more. I wanted to cheat and now this thing's 

gotten out of control. Navigating through all of this is becoming hard. I think there has to be some solution which I haven't even thought about. The thinking and the hashing over of things

is part of it. It's going to get real novel from here on out. Thais are very reserved people. Don't bank on the place to find a girlfriend or a life partner, then again, what do I know? 

Yesterday a very curious incident unfolded outside of the house. We so seldom see people that, when the chimney-sweep came in, I was perhaps a bit enthusiastic about explaining to him 

the hostile situation at play in our parking dynamics across the road. I told him very loudly, and while Johan was potting around in his garden across the street, that the politicis of 

street-space, and available parking had taken such a savage turn at one point that we'd decided never to interfere with it again. I said this and only 5 or 10 minutes later, Johan was 

in the yard looking at me in what looked to be an angry way. He has this stock look which deals with all possible emotional scenarios, with the result that he would have been a star poker 

player if he ever went into gambling. Well he stood there and I said Hi, and the Chimney sweep said Hi. And then there was complete silence. And then he said. I just wanted to speak to you

and I thought he meant me. So I tensed up and I said. Yes, you can speak. Everything in me expected him to start having a go at me about my speech to the chimney-sweep. But luckily nothing 

of the sort. My heart had gone into fight mode. I had resolved not to flee, not to be a coward. It was like the wild west. Whoever flinches first loses. Well whether this Johan decided he 

didn't want to take me on or whether he had decided to talk to the chimney sweep to begin with, I'm not sure, but he then said: No, I just wanted to talk to you about my skoorsteen!

I felt sort of bad just then, as if maybe I'd messed up the whole unwritten neighborly contract by distrusting him. But anyway, we spoke and discussed a lot of things afterwards. I'm pretty 

sure he knew I was ready to fight. But as I say, I'm still not sure exactly what his original resolution had been on coming to the house. Riding through Bangkok was a whirlwind of a trip. 

The firt erasonably sized city I'd ever been in, and it felt so strange. It's not that people don't go out of their way to help you, because they do, it's just that there was such a 

disconnect between the world of Cape Town which has a CBD that is but a tiny fraction in size when compared with the number of buildings in one small district of Bangkok. There was this 

Sense that I'd stumbled upon another dimension. I didn't like that cab driver who took me around Bangkok on my second visit there. He was so fat and unprepossessing. But I did like 

Chatachak market, and I always do, although that time there was very little to be accomplished since I had so little money. But everyone is so very helpful. It is a place where a culture 

is still totally intact. Now that we've thrown our old culture away there's not much to be said for the West. You must, but default, go to those places others might consider naive and 

superstitious. You must write your feelings on long screeds and hope for the best of all situations. You must meet a lot of people to get the motivation you need out of it all. You must 

find the way out of the circle you've created and lumber ahead like a giant if you must. There is just no time to waste, and now is the time to accomplish most of those things you've dreamt

of, which is not to say you must rush. Rushing is never healthy. Rushing gets you grey hair and a bitter heart. There is more to life than rushing. There is health also to consider. 

And at the end of the day, rushing might become a substitute for gratitude. There must always be a heart of gratitude if you are to enjoy anything fully. I am a very pride filled man, 

perhaps that's why I haven't gotten very far, but building the bridges between various centers of consciousness might be the way out of that. It might hold the cure for the thing that 

ails me. For being pious isn't quite good enough. You need the dynamism of life to understand life. You need to be moving and keep moving even if it's at an ant's crawl. You need to write

and if you find it difficult to write, use music as your movement catalyst. If you can't get out then go out with little steps. Even a little bit every night and then build it up. There 

is just not point in heading out there without it being delicious either. Everything is delicious, remember this. This is how the human spirit conquers everything it doesn' understand. 

This is how you prevent the questions of life from swalling you up. If we starve we will not buy from the shops. We will farm pigeons and cook those pigeons thoroughly. There is a place in 

Bangkok that has plenty of Japanese housewives and plenty of young Japanese women besides. In this district, there is a feeling of great zen. The feeling presides over most of the place, 

but in some parts, like the old canal, where the two worlds meet, and were Thai culture interjoins with that of Japanese, it feels like a greater river than anything you might have felt 

before, for it is not only a river of the physical world, but a river that supercedes your highest imagination. You begin to think of bookshops and art galleries and coffee shops everywhere. 

Your mind begins to unfurl with heady excitement as you imagine all the places you could go. You shoot up lifts and elevators without even being there. You realize that no, the world isn't'

coming to an end; it's not fading from sight. It's going exactly where it should and not a soul understands its full complexity because it's built of millions of different souls. And this 

Humbles and Heartens you simultaneously in the hope that you will find your feet and that you will know your purpose in the next few seconds. And the peasants who live on that canal stare 

at you as if staring trough you at a wall, or a car or something else they see on the other side of you but the neatness, the simplicity of their life is itself an inspiration and you drive 

on and you press past people and you realize how much you love even the middle aged women. You want to be with them and see how their lives operate. We have come into our own as a society.