Glow

There is nothing more menacing than the rhythmic blinking of a cursor on a glowing blank page, slowly reminding you with each flicker of the stark, white expanse of your own thoughts.

I’ve been here before. Many late nights have been spent in the library summoning any and all powers to help the words make shape on the page before me. I know all of the tricks in the book – procrastinating with Facebook, talking with friends in hope of magical inspiration, and telling myself that if I take a music break or a walk to get some coffee that sentences will start flowing from my fingers. But this time, I’m not writing about the ethical implications of genetic testing or the psychological effects of economic disparity. I’m writing about me, about my life, about my experiences. I can’t do extra research to make sure all my points flow in a succinct manner. I can’t inspect my notes to find a point that is going to light a spark. All there is for me to do is to scan my thoughts, rewind the events of the past week, and gauge my heart, my mind, and my body.

This isn’t something I’m always very good at. I’m good at research. I’m good at being curious about information and wanting to know more. I like facts. I love learning for the sole purpose of knowing a new thing I didn’t know before. However, for as long as I can remember, this love of learning has been limited to concrete data, to tangible information, and to often useless snippets of knowledge. I have never really taken the time to know myself, to explore the inner depths of who I am as a person, or to examine the minute details of what make me who I am. And I certainly have never taken the time to fully love the person found at the end of this assessment.

The simplicity of life here in Nong Khai - without ever-present distractions such as the Internet, texting, friends, dating, or a stressful work environment - has lead to an abundance of free time that has allowed me to focus on who I am, who I am becoming, the things that fill me up, and to recognize the parts of me that I would like to change. And for the first time in a long time, I am acutely aware of my own feelings, wants, needs, and desires. I am often so in tune with the thoughts and wishes of others that my own take a backseat or are diminished to prevent unnecessary conflict. Opening up this vat of feeling and desires is not natural for me and it is taking time. But I’m learning. And I’ve always loved learning, right?

I am learning that being with people is what makes me happy. I am learning that I really don’t like to talk all that much. I like to listen. I like to be a presence. I’m learning that I really like to read. I’m learning that sometimes I don’t think before I speak and that humor is one of my main coping skills. I’m learning that I should have more confidence in myself than I do. I’m realizing the full extent to how much I put others above myself. I’m realizing that even though I love being with people, I also need time to be by myself after a long day. I’m learning to change my thoughts about my body and my physical appearance after years of low self-esteem, negative self-image, and disordered eating patterns. I’m learning that it’s really hard. I’m learning that it takes a lot of work. I’m realizing that I am changing. I’m realizing that I am experiencing a joy I have never felt before.

I could not find the words to write on this page not because I had nothing to write about, but because my brain is clouded with pure bliss. I could have written about the Loi Krathong Festival and party this week where I danced a traditional Thai dance with some of the Garden community members or the beauty contest that was part of the festival. I could have written about how Panda went back to live with her grandparents because they realized that without her in the home they would not get the 5oo Baht she receives from the government every month for having HIV and how I really miss her. I could have written about the death of yet another patient at the Care Center. I could have written about the new family in the Garden. I could have written about how I have to cook lunch for the patients every day from now on and how I’m going to be a great Thai chef by the end of this year. But none of these topics seemed to come into fruition on the page before me. All I could think about was how happy I am here.

The past three months have not been easy, but yet I am so extremely happy here. Skyping with the director of my volunteer program and later with a conversation with a friend, they both remarked that even through the computer screen and even though I had just woken up 20 minutes prior, I was glowing. And the thing is, I am glowing. I can feel it radiating from my skin as meditate with the patients. I can feel the lightness of my body as I laugh with the teens as we play Uno. I can feel the smile already forming on my face as I ride up to Hands of Hope, knowing that Gaa will be there to greet me and blow me a kiss as I get off my bike. I don’t know what it is about this place, but it is something I have never fully experienced before. But I don’t think there’s a need to look for concrete answers, the glow is a good look on me.

I know my dad is already worried that I am never going to come home from Thailand. While I still have 8 months left in Nong Khai and am already dreading leaving, don’t worry dad, you’ll get me back at the end of the year. But that doesn’t mean that it is not going to be gut retchingly hard. It’s difficult to leave a place where you became yourself, where you learned to love yourself, where you learned the extent to which you could love others. But that’s another thing I’m learning about myself – I’m really bad at staying in the present and often focus on the past or the future. So we’ll save all this worrying for another day. We don’t want to put a damper on my glow now do we?

And just like the bright page before me, with the cursor dauntingly reminding that there are always more words to be written, I too am a work in progress – one with an extra little glow.