Monotony is desperately easy to spiral into.
Repetition is all too comfortable.
Sadness is seductive in it’s ability to ever, so, so slowly fold you into it’s cold comfort.
Creeping helplessness don’t differentiate between a grey, chilly, rain and a bright, tropical warmth.
Sadness, as each day I see scattered cat toys around the house and I hope she comes back safe and sound. Every morning I was woken up by purrs and nibbles on my ear at 5am. She pulled down the new house plants, demanded attention in the middle of the night, and made things feel like home. My chronic illness flares. The cold creeps in. A constant itch wears at me, an insistent voice demands an ethical job. Not a money-driven job. Not a screw-people-over job. Not a compassionate free job for an empty company masquerading as a school. Is it the business as a singular or the country’s business culture? I feel like Thailand’s business culture lacks personality, friendship and trust. Instead there’s backstabbing, dishonesty and coldness. And, clearly, that’s not me.
Some days I dream back to sitting people down, talking through their problems and giving them massages. Working away both of our stresses with essential oils and the honesty of strangers. And then, some days I look at this beautiful island, this beautiful life, and my sense of entitlement fades away into a warmth of appreciation. Most days I look into the eyes of somebody who makes me happy, who thinks I’m beautiful. But it’s somebody who’s dictating some really scary life decisions. Thailand is losing it’s draw. Visas! Work permits! Money! Constant, continual difficultly! New Zealand whispers it’s charms into my ear, my relationship keeps me here.
Yin and Yang. Sometimes you just can’t cherry-pick.
But, maybe, sometimes you can.