Things I've always known

I would travel. 
I would live on a beach. 
I would learn to speak Spanish. 
I would endure and overcome hardships. 
I would fall in love with a foreign, exotic woman. 
I would play a musical instrument in public.
I would enjoy and earn from a trade. 
I would have scars I was proud of.
I would run with wild animals.
I would be ok being alone.
I would have long hair and a beard.
I would sleep in a hammock, high up in a tree. 
I would have loyal friends and family all over the world.
I would make a positive difference on at least one young life. 
I would leave a long trail of written thoughts, recorded memories, photographed moments, and unusual lessons to be found and shared after I was gone. 

a broken record playing a humble song.

Ever since I arrived back home this time I feel like I've been living a life of luxury while staying with my friends and family for spurts of days, weeks, sometimes months at a time.
Driving nice automobiles, eating heart-warming Canadian meals, sleeping in cozy beds with animals, smoking in expensive hot-tubs, and on and on and on.... as if all these things were mine.
But even if I did own these many fine things, they would still not be mine alone because I would share them with the people I know and love, just as they share them with me.

I really hope more than most things that my family & friends know how grateful I am to have them, to know them. To have you, to know you. I am not I without you.
We all share our lives with certain people for certain reasons, and you are all at the heart of the greatest reasons. You are my home.

Let the levee break

Dear friends,

It's been nearly a year. 

Today I remembered the password to this thing. 

Tonight I will go through some of my notes from the past year. 

Tomorrow I'll share. 

Hope you're all well. 

Jeff D's shorts

Shortly after Jeff Darling left this world his family gave me his favorite pair of shorts. They were navy blue corduroy with a secret pocket for secret stuff. I only used it for weed and money. I wore them well that summer and when I moved to Thailand I took them with me. That was 5 years ago.

Today I finished painting the house of my adopted Thai family. A big, ice-cold beer was waiting for me. As I drank it I looked down at the state of these shorts that had been with me through the heavy heat of Thailand, the ruff n' tumble of India, the mountains of Nepal, the arid lands of northern Australia, the endless sandy beaches of Bali, the cold concrete of Montreal and the moist mornings of British Columbia, and I knew it was time to hang 'em up for good.
My half-ass sewing efforts kept them going strong for a healthy duration of travel and received quite a lot of compliments over time and place.  The chords are completely flat, the color is grey like E.T. when he got really sick and there is a huge hole in the left knee. But the main reason is that it's just time. The pattern I've noticed with the dawning of every new chapter of my life is that something of nostalgic importance always seems to wear out or simply disappear. And this is sad, but it allows room for more in my already minimalistic lifestyle. It leads me to new things- new nostalgia.

In 2 days I fly to Singapore. Then New Zealand. My backpack will be slightly lighter, but having written this tonight I feel content and ready for a new pair of hand-me-downs.
Respect.

Thailand khidt̄hụng ṭhex (I missed you)

October 18, 2013 
Bangkok

 The plane landed last night at midnight- almost 2 years exactly to the day I left for Australia.
I took a taxi to Rambutree road and recalled my vocabulary of Thai language with the driver on the way. Unfortunately it was too late to go to P'Toom's- the humble 5 foot king of Couchsurfing. Plus I had forgotten his address and was too tired to risk tracking it down. My dry mouth began to salivate in disappointment knowing that I wouldn't get to taste the spicy breakfast I had been longing for at the kitchen down the street from his house. But Rambutree road was a sure thing and all I wanted to do was take my backpack off and stand under an ice cold shower. It took almost an hour to get there. The driver told me it had been raining all day in Bangkok and the roads were nearly flooded. I didn't mind. The later and less cluttered Rambutree was when I arrived, the better. It was low season for tourists- that was good too. When I showed up the majority of the guest houses were closed but I kept walking, looking for the small green sign that read "My Guest House". It had one room available for 180 baht- approximately $7.00. I was back. Surrounded by it all again; the sights, the smells, the sounds, the food, the cold-faced warmness, the warm-faced coldness, the heat, the culture. My second home.

Now, after a day of drinking and playing ukulele on the street with a Swedish dude named Osmo, then a sleepy seven hour night bus ride south to Chumphon, I find myself back in my old bedroom at my adopted family's house. It's gotta be almost 5 in the morning but I don't wanna sleep. Feels like I'm eight years old and it's Christmas.

I'm not afraid of who I am.

Not afraid of being physically alone because I know I'm never spiritually alone.

1 is All & All is 1.

" I've been wondering all about me
ever since I seen you there,
on the cliffs of your wild cat charms I'm riding
I know I'm 'round you but I don't know where.

You have slayed me, you have made me
I got to laugh half ways off my heels.
I got to know babe
Ah, will you surround me
So I can know if I am really real? "

-Bob Dylan
(Spanish Harlem Incident)