Old Habits Die Hard, Even in Paradise

It’s been a bit more than a month since I last sat down to write.  I self-promised to write an update once a month so I’ll give myself this one as a “close enough.”  I wish I could snapshot all of the thoughts and feelings I’ve had in the last month – all of the ups and downs, all of the realizations, the commitments, accomplishments, etc.  There are too many to count and too many experiences to relay.

So again, where do I start? For month two, I’ve kept a record of highs and lows as a note in my phone, to preserve my contemporaneous thoughts and feelings.  I was looking at the note just now, which looks a bit like stream-of-consciousness writing.  But it brings back the emotions of the moment and reminds me of the deep gratitude I have for this experience, which – despite its challenges and the fears I fight about the future – is probably the most rewarding journey of my life.

What Comes of Worries and Woes?

I could describe this month as the month of realism. Halfway through month two and it strikes me how quickly time passes.  With passing time, it’s easy to fall into that annoying habit of looking at the future.  Somewhere in the month I found my focus swaying from my fitness goal to the big question mark of “what next?”

When I left my old life, I decided to face the question of “what next” when I came to it. The unknown of that was exciting when it was a distant bridge to cross; but as I’ve drawn closer, the unknown has a tendency to transform into a dark cloud with fangs and claws and all kinds of scary things around it.  What do I do? I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to go back to a desk job, I need to make money, I still have debt to pay off, what do I do if I’m no longer a lawyer? What do I have to offer? Do I do all of this only to go back to the same kind of life I had before? Even in a place as stress-free as this, I managed to lose sleep over these incessant thoughts.

Yes, it is possible to worry even in a place like this.

It’s a funny thing; when I made the decision to leave the life of “before” and come to Thailand, in my mind, I thought this decision was the solution to my problems.  That the act of leaving my old life and committing to a new lifestyle would resolve the issues I had before, issues I thought I had resolved.  What I’ve realized is that this move was only the beginning of many things.  I thought this journey was one of primarily physical transformation; as month two progressed, and I have developed a routine and confidence in my training and diet, I’ve realized that it is my emotional and spiritual growth that has required a bit of a tune-up, and how much these dimensions are intertwined with my physical performance in training.

Worrying about the future is a symptom of my suffering mindset.  I know I have to take steps to make plans and work towards a goal, but this future-focus is a reminder that I still struggle to trust and let go. I’m not used to being without a plan or allowing life to unfold as it is.  As much as I’ve told myself that I’ve learned to do this, or that I want this spontaneity, I sometimes find myself falling down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts and catastrophizing if allowed too much time to think.  In these situations, I’ve learned to check myself before I wreck myself, to pull myself out of that place and re-coordinate my mental compass.  But it can be a constant battle when something is on your mind.

I won’t lie; with all the incredible highs here, there are also lows.  The routine of training, of constantly committing to activities that are difficult, challenging, and painful, of consistently working to be outside your comfort zone, can create moments of emotional exhaustion.  Believe it or not, I’ve never been away from home this long; I went to school in Toronto, worked in Toronto, and lived my 27 years in more or less the same 100 km radius.  Homesickness hit me a few times this month, when the vortex of exhaustion, emotional vulnerability and Facebook updates came together in a perfect storm to remind me of the best parts of home.  I’ve missed my family and friends, I’ve felt loneliness, and I’ve even missed the stability of my old life at those moments of challenge and fear, when the future is blurry and out of focus. 

Damn you Facebook news feed!
 

After moments like this in month two, the feeling hit hardest when I went to Kuala Lumpur two weeks ago.  Here I was, in this big, bustling city, which I had never visited before. I was mostly alone for these few days, alone with myself and my thoughts. This had never posed a problem for me before; I have always lived as an independent type and have enjoyed traveling on my own in the past.  But here I was, walking amongst people who were going to their jobs, enjoying a lunch break with co-workers, and then going home to their lives in the city.  I suddenly felt like a displaced person; this very stability that I despised and rejected before was suddenly looking a bit appealing in light of the worrying I was doing about the future.  It also made me feel lost and aimless.  What was I doing? These people had it figured out; what was I going to do? Had I screwed myself over financially and career wise? Is the choice between aimlessness and stability? What had I done?

Emotional turmoil aside, the PETRONAS Towers were gorgeous

I came back to the retreat here feeling out of sorts to say the least.  On the taxi ride back from the airport, I had almost made up my mind to give up on my adventure, to forget month three and run off to whatever security I could find.  I felt like a failure as I thought about all the voices that said I would feel this way, that I would worry, that it was impractical and unwise to take the chance I did.  Maybe all these criticisms had some truth to them after all? 

It was only after a heart-to-heart with one of the owners, a good cry, a massage and a night of sleep in my villa bed that I checked myself the next morning, and realized that a change in perspective was needed.  I wasn’t getting myself anywhere by worrying; it was time to accept what was outside of my control, take on the consequences of my decisions, trust that all would work itself out, pull out my spiritual chops, let go of my anxiety, and not cheat myself out of the unbelievable paradise I was in, and the beauty of my present moment, by focusing on that blurry future.

So I guess I could describe this month as one of personal growth (although all of this could be summed up as that).  I’ve learned that growth is not about accomplishments per se; I thought I’d feel growth from my improving fitness and my continuing weight loss.  There is definitely a physical rebirth that I am experiencing.  But it is how I get through difficulties here that has become my greatest source of strength.  How I push through when I am down and miss home; when I feel lonely; when I want to worry about my lack of plan and immediate direction.  Realizing that life isn’t a straight line or an easy ride, nor is it supposed to be, but riding through the heartache is the way through to the highs.  The only way out is through – this is what I repeat to myself when I am in the middle of a difficult workout; when I don’t think I can handle another second; or when I’m emotionally exhausted or worried about the future.  You have to ride it out.  The only way out is through.  And if I’ve learned anything from training, it’s that easy gets you nowhere.  What hurts, what pushes you to the limit, what makes you cry – it makes you strong.  It makes you grow.

When Gratitude Sets In

I can’t say it’s all been about challenge though.  There are more moments of gratitude and – dare I say it – happiness than I can count (happiness always seems like a difficult word to use, at least in my experience; but I am happy and I’m grateful for it). My physical rebirth alone is a continuing joy.  I catch myself walking down the street feeling lighter, a lightness that is part physical and part emotional.  From month one to month two, I am doing physical feats I never imagined possible for me.  I finally understand what it means to have an active lifestyle, as my days are filled with strength training, running, walking, biking, bootcamps, beach walks and the like.  The difference now is with added confidence in my physical abilities, a tough mindset, and a lighter frame, I want to be active and – dare I say it again – I enjoy being active, and yes, I’m even getting quite good at it. It’s like being a kid again, where you are happy to play in mud and run around for hours.  I’ve lifted a weight – literal and metaphorical – off my shoulders by investing in my health. 

It hit home for me just what I’ve done for my body during one-on-one training recently.  My trainer handed me a heavy weight (the amount of which I will withhold for now) and my first thought was, oh my God, am I going to have to lift that? “Take the weight,” he said.  I held it with both hands, steeling myself for some inevitable exercise that would follow.  “That’s the amount of weight you have lost, the amount you were carrying around.  Could you imagine walking from the gym to the villa with that weight?”

It took a second to register but I was shocked.  How the hell had I carried this weight around on my body? I could barely hold the weight with both hands.  To think I had done any physical activity with that weight was beyond me, even though I had.  I think that moment was a turning point for me.  Knowing how heavy that weight was, knowing the burden I put on myself with that weight, the emotional and physical heaviness I had to take around in the one body I have to live my life in; the weight that deterred me from wanting to be active, from doing these challenging and rewarding activities I have done day-in and day-out here.  Never again.  It’s not about the weight per se; I am who I am, and my soul and personhood is separate and apart from my physical form, no matter what size, shape or abilities I have.  I have simply learned a new way of physically living that has changed the way I feel about so much in my life.  It’s that sense of empowerment I don’t want to let go of.

Imagine all the People…

The gratitude does not stop at the physical transformations.  I can’t say enough how the people I have met here have made all the difference on this unexpected journey – what they have taught me, the love and support they offer, and the eye-opening and often inspiring lives they lead, with all their own ups and downs.  What I keep realizing is how easy it can be to connect with other people; it’s not about the time you have, but about what you share with people that creates connection.  I learn about the lives of these guests; where they live, what they do, what they love, what they want to accomplish.  We support each other when it’s time to complete that last set of squat thrusters, or when it’s time to jump in a 4 degree ice bath.  We enjoy meals together, we go on outings together, we laugh and we cry.  I’ve had discussions with people here that have given me unimaginable insights into life, that have allowed me to start transcending all kinds of limiting beliefs I have about my life and myself.  I have nothing but gratitude for these people I have met who have enriched my life more than they probably know.

It’s not only the guests who come in and out; at an even deeper level, it is the people at the villa who I share my life with, who have become an adopted family here in Thailand, that have given me a sense of home halfway across the world.  It is the sense of consistency that comes from seeing these wonderful people each morning, and spending my days with them, that is the stability I have needed embarking on this challenging transformation.  I love the staff here at the villa, who represent an array of personalities and life stories themselves.  I’m never met without a smile, and there is never a shortage of joking as I practice my shameful Thai (which is slowly growing).  The directors/owners of the villa are my pillars; they are not only friends, but pseudo-relatives and often impromptu counsellors who are unwittingly on this journey of growth with me.  And the other long-term guests are also my partners in crime, my brothers-from-another-mother, who have lifted me up countless times when I needed an extra push in the right direction. And, of course, there are the various trainers and educators here who have relentlessly pushed me towards the upgraded version of my physical self. Even priding myself as a descriptive writer, it is difficult to put into words what it means to have these people in my life.

That being said, I have to give myself some credit for my work on this journey.  Day in and day out I show up and work my ass of.  I eat clean, I don’t cheat, and I go the extra mile even though it never stops being hard to do so.  I am educating myself on what it will mean to be active for life, to train like an athlete and make myself as strong as possible.  My life going forward will be different because I am different.  Before this experience, as much as I’ve tried to work on it, I often looked to others for validation, for confirmation that I am doing the right thing.  In month one, that was certainly the case when it came to my weight loss.  It still is often the case when it comes to feeling good about myself.  As great as it is to have others recognize your hard work, or give you props for things you sometimes fail to recognize in yourself, this all becomes empty if you can’t give this confidence and affirmation to yourself first.  In fact, it can become addictive to receive this affirmation from others, which is a sure-fire sign you aren’t giving it to yourself.  I’ve found that, now and in the past, I can latch onto to certain people, when the attention they give seems to fill some void in myself.  I realize I’ve done the same thing here, particularly in my first month.  As my confidence grows, and I work on the emotional and spiritual side of this transformation, it becomes easier to find this validation in myself.  It’s a work in progress, but one I’m confident I will achieve.

Monuments, Memories and Moments

All this being said, validation is one thing; good company is another.  My best memories from this month inevitably involve my new-found friends and fellow guests.  My first trip to see the Big Buddha, for example, was a day of inner peace for me shared with these friends.  The excitement of driving up the steep hill to Big Buddha in the back of a pickup truck, holding on for dear life while surrounded by amazing views; seeing all kinds of strange restaurant outposts with elephant rides, ATVs, and monkeys available to be fed – for a fee – along the way; all of it enlivened my senses after a day spent sweating in the gym.  Entering the gift shop at the bottom of the stairs to Big Buddha, I enjoyed the quiet, being surrounded by souvenirs, religious symbols and the smell of incense.  The back of the shop opened up to a shrine and prayer area, with dozens of statutes of the Buddha in varying sizes.  I knelt down at the back to receive a blessing from a monk, who tied a bracelet around my left hand (one I will wear till it falls off). 

Big Buddha is there, rain or shine

The stairs up to Big Buddha greet you with a host of gold bells and chimes, which create the sound of serenity that follows you to the top.  Once there, a 360-degree view of Phuket, with its beautiful forests, rolling landscape, array of buildings, temples and mosques, and the trademark sky blue seas give you pause, as does the solemn face of Big Buddha taking in the view.  It is a place for reflection.  I felt nothing but gratitude to take it all in, realizing my life was meant to be lived with such experiences, outside the confines of a desk and the trappings of a conventional life.  On our way out, a fat cat sleeping on the guest book, dead to the world, re-affirmed how funny small things in life can be.

I promise you the cat was alive

Other experiences here are the kind that just let you enjoy the moment you are in, doing new things or things outside our usual routine.  Jumping off the back of a speed boat at Racha Island into a deep lagoon of coral and fish is something to remember, as is swimming in water the colour of a swimming pool as snapper swim by your feet.
 



Racha Island beach

Playing pranks at the villa – like completely toilet-papering the second floor of one of the residences – was a definite highlight which left me in tears laughing with another guest.  
 

Try it - it's really fun

Spending an evening with my two Muay Thai instructors to watch fights at Bangla Stadium in Patong – where their uncle, my former instructor, fought and won – was another adrenaline rush.  Not only do I love spending time with my Muay Thai instructors – two brothers from Khao Lak who are both charming and hilarious – but the lights and sounds of Patong at night, in a stadium framed by four 25-foot Muay Thai fighting figurines, brought much needed excitement into my usually tame Friday nights.
 

Bangla Stadium

And even something as simple as blowing off a day of exercise for a day of rest that involved eating at a restaurant (on program of course) to gossip and then play pool is something that brings a laugh and living in the moment outside the typical routine of training.

And then there are those moments of quiet here, where there are no distractions. I’ve had many of these moments at night, where time seems to stop; nobody is texting or calling me, no one is around, I have nothing that must be done immediately; nothing to occupy me.  I am alone with myself.  It’s in these moments you ask yourself about your purpose; what is the meaning I am giving to my life? What is my direction going to be? I don’t have all the answers yet, but even having these moments is a reason for gratitude.  We can live an entire lifetime without considering these questions.  I hope I always have these moments of quiet, but I admit this can still be a struggle, and these questions take courage to face.

I reviewed a TED talk today that gave me the kind of moment above, one that was both sad and insightful.  An American paramedic discussed his experience with a difficult but routine part of his job – what to tell people who ask him, “Am I dying”? When he had encountered people who were, in fact, beyond help, he routinely lied to them about their state, until he once decided to start telling people the truth.  When people received confirmation that they, in fact, had reached the end, they had many reactions; apart from a remarkable peace and acceptance that was shown, two of the consistent themes were both regret for things they hadn’t done, and fear that their life did not have meaning.  They regretted not spending time with family, or not doing things they truly wanted to do; and they wished that they had done something meaningful with their lives, usually in the form of giving to others.  This isn’t to say that these feelings are inevitable; I truly believe everyone has meaning and has given meaning in their lives in some way, and that most choices are made for a good reason, one that should not elicit regret.  But I think that these questions are something to consider, when you have the blessing of life in this moment; is there something you will regret not doing at the end of your life? Are you living your life in a way that is meaningful to you, in whatever form that may be?

Ending on a High Note

As I think about the choice I’ve made to come here and focus on my health, I realize that all my worries about money and the future are incidental to the life-altering change I am giving myself; and that, at the end of my life, I cannot imagine regretting taking this chance to change my reality, even with all of its costs, uncertainties, and consequences.  In fact, I can bet I would regret failing to take the time to give myself a chance at a different life.  The investment in me is worth all of it, and the meaning I can create for my life, in the form of personal wellness, a career, and what I can give to others, will be the hopeful and eventual consequences of this labour.  While I sometimes struggle to stay in this grateful state, I’m glad I am at least working towards it.  At the end of the day, it’s all about your perspective, as meaning and regret are all relative to you.  I think we are all on the path to making the most of our lives.  As I work to figure it all out, I’m enjoying this interesting bend in the road, and all the experiences the path gives me along the way.

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.  It will not lead you astray.” -  Rumi

Taking a chance at painting some inspiration - who knows where it could lead :)