I'm No Artist But...

I used to love paint-by-number coloring pages when I was little. I loved the sense of mystery and anticipation in carefully scanning the page before meticulously adding the correct colors in the appropriate locations. With each new color placed, the image would slowly come alive. Light blue on 1 opened up a luminous sky, and seafoam green on 4 began the beginnings of a roaring ocean tide. You could make your predictions of what the image would look like in its entirety, but if you did not take your time to diligently place a sandy brown on 5 in the left-hand corner, you could miss the starfish tucked away at the bottom of the sea. If you rushed through and accidently placed light blue on the whole sky because you were jumping to assumptions, you could miss the rainbow outlined in 1,3,6,7,8,9.

I think our lives are a lot like paint-by-numbers. Every experience we have in life allows for more colors to be added to our masterpiece of life in progress. While the experiences themselves help to make the picture come slowly into fruition, it is the interactions we have on a day-to-day basis that will hopefully help to one day complete our image. Our family members, significant others, friends, and other loved ones help to finish a huge portion of the greater picture of who we are, who we will become, and where we will go in life. By listening to their stories, by understanding them, and by being a witness to their experiences – we too learn and grow. It is then that we can add more colors to our ever-changing illustration. However, it is not just those that we love that build onto our paint-by-number of life. It is also those we dislike that add huge parts to our painting because they help to point out the dark shadow parts of ourselves that may be unconscious to us. Similarly, it is not just those that we know intimately that help to fill in the pieces but those that we may encounter in passing as well – such as the grocery checkout girl, the old man you see on the 8:15 train every morning, or the person stopped at the red light next to you. And just as the numbers on a paint-by-number coloring page are not always in a chronologically organized manner across the paper, the interactions that are going to help us finally complete our life image may be spread over countries and continents, years and decades. But that is all the fun of a paint-by-number - scrupulously placing all of the colors on the right numbers to finally reveal the finished product.

The past two weeks, I have been thinking a lot about all the people that have been inserted in my life to help me one day complete the paint-by-number of my life – as cliché as the analogy may be. In the wake of Nong Naam’s death, I have felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility that was only intensified by the love I received from friends and family from around the world checking in on me, sending me Thanksgiving wishes, or sending prayers my way. I know that Naam is going to fill in a pretty significant piece of my life picture, just as all those who reached out to me already have. Naam was such a special person to me in the past three and a half months, which is why I have had a really hard time understanding why I have not really grieved her death yet. However, on the Sunday morning following Naam’s death, my community member, Tam, and I listened to a timely sermon about peace and how it does not indicate the absence of anxieties or dire circumstances but instead is a grace granted to take the sting out of adversities. The next morning I had a message from a really close friend in my Facebook inbox sending his sympathy for Naam’s death and helping me to process the situation. Knowing that I was in a weird place of not feeling or better yet not feeling the grief that I thought I should be feeling, he said, “take whatever comes when it comes. And if the grief doesn’t, maybe it is because Naam was a presence of grace and not grief, and she wouldn’t want you to grieve her, and she needs you to be the light that she was for the community.” It was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment. I stopped trying to make myself feel sad and instead just let the feelings of stillness move through my body – as unnatural for me as it is. I started to then focus my attention on the relationships I am building and have already built here, remembering the light that Naam was for the Garden, and trying to make sure all those I interact with on here in Nong Khai know how much they are loved and how much love they give to me. I guess it is true that flowers of peace can bloom in even the most desolate of deserts.

Beautiful bouquets of pink, and red and white also bloom in places that florists know about and this morning I had the amazingly wonderful surprise of being delivered a gorgeous array of two-dozen roses that were sent from one of my best friends back in the States. I don’t think the smile has quite left my face yet at the shock of receiving the flowers at work today. They may not have been from a secret lover in America like my coworkers thought, but knowing they were from one of my best friends, sending me her well wishes for this holiday season and reminding me that I am a strong and beautiful individual was even better. I am a very lucky girl to have such amazing people in my life all around the world, people who help me every day learn more and more about myself and about love.

Previously in the week, I had the overwhelming need to read a series of letters I received at a retreat my senior year of college that were written by everyone from close friends and family members to acquaintances and mentors. Luckily, the packet of letters was a necessity when packing for Thailand and they were waiting patiently to be re-read at an appropriate time. I was not feeling sad, or needing encouragement, or even feeling homesick, but opening up those letters again was like receiving the greatest bear hug from someone who gives wonderful hugs and you never want to let go. It is such an overwhelming feeling to be told how much you are loved and appreciated and the impact you have made in other people’s lives. While the letters were telling of my own graces, I could not stop thinking about how thankful I was for each and every one of those individuals who had written me a letter. It is humbling to know that love I have given and love I have unconditionally received is scattered all around the United States, in Mexico, Scotland, Ireland, and now Thailand.

This week I was reminded of the strong support system I have back home and it really helped me to come back and center myself here in Thailand. It has made me want to put myself full force into all of my relationships here in Nong Khai, leaving no stone unturned. The week before Nong Naam died, I Skyped with one of my roommates from my senior year of college who did a one-year international volunteer year this past year. Before saying our goodbyes, I asked her what was one tip she had for me for the rest of my time here and she said tell the people you are with that you love them as often as you can because she said she did not do it nearly enough. I told her that that would be my challenge for that day as well as the rest of the year. I did not hold up my end of the bargain for that day, getting distracted by work and hospital visits, so I am not even sure if I got to tell Naam that I loved her before she passed away. But because of that, I am going to make sure I don’t fail on my challenge for the rest of the year – for Naam. Whether it is with words or with actions, I want to make sure the people here in Thailand know how much they are affecting me and how much I genuinely love them. Whether this may be sharing a blanket and pillow with Ying at the Christmas pageant practice sleepover, very well knowing that I was going to get lice from her (I only had 4 lice and no eggs – totally would make the same decision again) or telling Viscunie, Naam’s mother, how much I loved her after she snuck up behind me to give me a giant hug around my waist.

Just like all the wonderful people that are already in my life, the people here in Thailand are making such a huge impact on me already and I have a feeling that a large portion of my life paint-by-number masterpiece will be filled with my interactions with people from Nong Khai. Today, Si, a patient who was nearly paralyzed from the mid-waist down when I arrived in August and who has extremely limited speech abilities, sat in her bed and fed herself. She has been doing this every few days for a couple of few weeks now and although she is the same age as my mother, every time she eats by herself I stand at her bed in awe like a proud parent. For the past three and a half months I have fed her at lunch every single day. Today, as I stood at the end of her bed, smiling uncontrollably at the marked improvement she has made since I have gotten to the Care Center, I couldn’t stop telling her how proud I was of her. Her eyes locked mine and she motioned her spoon toward me. I went to the side of her bed, thinking she wanted me to take over and help because sometimes she gets really fatigued feeding herself. Instead she tried to feed me a heaping spoonful of rice and egg. Today it was her turn to feed me. While I graciously declined, telling her I was going to eat after she finished because I was not hungry yet, I could not help but smile at the significance of the interaction. I think I earned my white on number 2 today. Let’s see what color tomorrow brings.