Lazy Sunday...

It's rainy and cold here today. After a rather satisfying morning of re-reading the social justice posts this morning and feeling encouraged by the grass roots passion that still exists out there, it is definitely a good time to sit back with a cup of jasmine tea and a movie.

This afternoon it will be "Charade" with Audrey Hepburn. There is something beautiful and ethereal about her and she is just wonderful to watch. If you're in my time zone, it is on Turner Classic Movies starting.... now!

Hope everyone has a very pleasant, relaxing and restorative Sunday!


Peace,

~Chani

It Takes A Village....

Earlier today, I was wandering around the Internet reading blogs. One was written by a woman who feels very overwhelmed by the constant supervision of her small children. Even though I do not have children, her feelings were entirely understandable.

It got me thinking about kids. They're wonderful little beings ~ so full of hope and possibility. They are so full of future. They're honest and kind.

Well, until the socialization process starts anyway.

I made the conscious choice to not have children for a variety of reasons. I did not have the resources or extended family it takes to raise a child. Being somewhat of an undernourished and unwatered garden myself, I didn't have the emotional or spiritual inner resources to take on that commitment. It's easy to enjoy other people's children, to help with their children, but raising them on my own was too much.

Around the time I graduated high school and headed off for college, the whole social contract began to shift. People started raising children by themselves because they "wanted one". Men didn't seem to be a very important part of the package. They were viewed as "sperm donors". After all, women could have it all... at the same time.

From that point, men, being pushed out of the picture rather brutally, took that to mean their presence was not needed so they took off when it no longer "felt good". People got divorced because "it didn't feel good anymore." People left their extended families for parts unknown because "it didn't feel good to stay here any more."

I don't think too many people in my generation were really concerned about how their kids felt about anything. It was all about us, all the time. Baby Boomer Disease. Me, me, me, me, me. If It Doesn't Feel Good, I Ain't Gonna Do It And If You Don't Like It, Screw You! If there'd been a way to create a tattoo out of that, many of us would probably have it.

It seems the kids pay for this irresponsible attitude. In my personal opinion, children really do need a large family presence. They need Grandma, Grandpa, uncles, aunts and cousins. It teaches them how to function within a group, how to relate to others and how to have a sense of community. Additionally, it helps the mothers with young children to have a needed respite, a break, from the constant supervision. It's balance.

It would be interesting to hear from mothers about this. I am shooting into the wind here, not being a parent so it's easy for me to deal in generalizations and platitudes. It would be enlightening to hear how mothers and fathers feel about this.

What say you, oh, fountains of wisdom?


Peace to all ~


~Chani

Three Deaths... (on social activism)

Most people have memory of a few significant news events that changed their view of the world forever. In my own case, it was the death of John Kennedy, the death of Bobby Sands and a seemingly insignificant newscast in Los Angeles 26 years ago.

A woman by the name of Wanda (mentioned here previously) was dying from cancer. She had to get on television and beg for money to buy medication. Without the medication, she would die in excruciating pain. I can, to this day, remember her words. I can remember her clothing. I can remember the desperation in her voice. It has never left me. I still think about Wanda. She should never be forgotten. The day I forget her will be the day I've lost my humanity.

My determination to fight for freedom and human rights began with those three events. John Kennedy's death taught me about the senselessness of murder for political reasons. On a larger scale, his death taught me about the senselessness of war.

Bobby Sands is the man who, along with several other IRA members, starved himself to death in Britain's Maze Prison. He taught me about the seeming senselessness of zeal. he also taught me about courage and the courage of one's convictions. He taught me that one can die for a cause and sometimes that makes sense. His death led me to think about those causes I would die for ~ and those I would not.

Wanda is dead by now. She taught me something with the process of death rather than her death itself. She showed me first hand the cruelty at the bowels of this society. I began to see the hypocrisy at the roots of a society that claims to have the cornerstone on human rights yet would allow an old woman to die because she committed the unpardonable sin of being poor. She had to beg and plead on television for the right to die with dignity. She had to depend on the good will of others to allow her that honor.

Wanda's situation made me angry to my very instinctual core. That anger has transformed me as I've come to understand that anger only begets more anger, just as violence begets more violence. Given that understanding, my anger has taken a different form. I am still sickened at the thought of living in a society that values the Money God above all else. I am disgusted by a society that would find the invasion of other countries for financial benefit to be acceptable. I am appalled that we continue to allow an erosion of our freedoms in the name of "homeland security". It is horribly sad that we are so immune to information analysis that cultural hegemony is considered a good thing. Importing consumerist values to Asia, Southeast Asia, Russia, Eastern Europe and an assortment of countries that had based their culture on other values is euphemistically called "promoting freedom" when it is easily understood that it is a buzz-phrase for "exploitation".

I am horribly shamed by the fact that in countless ways, my small life may have contributed to this larger picture, perhaps by action or inaction, ignorance or inertia.. perhaps a combination of all.

When this country declared its freedom from the British Empire, it was supposed to free us from political and religious tyranny. Yet what have we chosen to do with that freedom and independence? Are we satisfied? Can we look at our creation, this fledgling ideology of participatory republicanism, and say it has grown into a compassionate and wise maturity? Is it truly a model for the world? These were the lofty goals of the founders.

We failed.

May we find and restore the soul of this nation ~

~Chani

Universal Health Care....

Sometime in the mid-80s, I sat in my livingroom watching television. It was news time. I'd only been back from work for 45 minutes or so. Peter Jennings was on the screen, talking about the price of medicine, the high price of health care, and some of the associated difficulties.

As we all know, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

After Peter Jennings' version of the evening news (90% anti-Soviet propaganda and 10% pro-American propaganda. At least the old boy was predictable), the local news came on. After the obligatory five minutes of murders, rapes and robberies, they offered the profile of a middle-aged woman. I remember her name. Wanda. I remember what she looked like. I remember the trappings of poverty that surrounded her.

She was making a public appeal for donations so that she could afford her cancer medicine.

I am a person who reacts to things quite strongly and, oh, it made me angry! Of course, it is ill-spent energy because one individual sitting angrily in her livingroom in the mid-80s doesn't change a bloody thing.

I'm not going to provide a litany of references, documenting how ridiculously expensive the medical care in this country has become. This isn't an academic exercise. It's just a human exercise. Inspired by several others who are addressing social justice causes on their blogs this week, I've been pondering some of my pet causes.

This far, I will go. The HMO system has contributed to this failed system. Malpractice insurance has contributed. Marrying insurance and health care has contributed to this. Marrying profit to health care and insurance has doomed it. But the fact remains that the day any human being in has to get on television to beg for the money to buy cancer medication is a shameful day in the history of this very wealthy country. It is amoral, unethical and evil. We should all be collectively ashamed!

I am, as I've mentioned previously, on Social Security Disability. My health care is provided by Medicare and Medi-Cal. Medicare is far too complicated for the average person. (I am within a few IQ points of qualifying for Mensa and I couldn't understand it!) It should be simplified. Medi-Cal is actually a very good model for a universal health care system. I am required to co-pay on both medications and doctor visits. It is just enough money to discourage any low-income person from going to a doctor frivolously. It is set up as a mock "HMO", including a geographic requirement. The clinics, doctors and services provided to me are provided in my own neighborhood. Personally, I believe a PPO model would be better but, hey, I won't knock it because it works. Medi-Cal does not cover vanity procedures or unnecessary procedures that might be ordered by a doctor to increase his or her own profit margin.

This is the only solution I can possibly imagine for the long term. Most people pay in excess of 30% of their income in taxes. Instead of filtering it to Halliburton and the Bush War Machine, we need to use those tax dollars to assure basic human rights to every person in this country. We already pay enough in funding to programs such as Medicare, Medi-Cal (just a cutesied-up name for Medicaid) and other uninsured programs to afford universal health care.

As the old saying goes, let the Department of Defense hold a bake sale for funding... or better yet, let 'em beg for it on TV.

Peace,

~Chani

**An addendum: I meant to add this and it slipped my mind. Occasionally, I will highly recommend a blog here. While I like all those I read, sometimes something reaches out and grabs me by the throat, similar to Sevenwinds' post of last week about the little boy he adopted. In this case, it is because of a stunning writing talent. I was at one time a professional writer. My meanderings were printed in a newspaper each week that had a fair number of subscribers. I can string words together... but this blog is so well-written, so passionate, that you will feel the words. Please give it a look. Spend some time there. You won't be sorry. :)

~C

Things to miss....

Someone asked what I will miss here when I go to Tha*il/and.

I had to take some time and really think about it because there are some things that I'll miss very much.

1) Sourdough bread. For the past several years, I've been making a sourdough "pizza" of sorts. It includes green peppers, tomato sauce and Italian sausage. Those ingredients will not be available in Th&ai*la/nd.

2) CSI and "The Closer" on TV

3) Certain friends who will be in contact only through email because phone calls will be too expensive and the time zone difference will make easy access to each other less likely.

4) talk radio, the kind of talk radio that gets heated and controversial. I will really miss exciting roundtables on a variety of topics that are likely not allowed in Th/ai*l/and.

5) open, sometimes impolite, political discussions. There's nothing quite like a lively debate on the issues.

6) the easy availability of books in English. Even though they will be available on Amazon, it will take longer to get them and some of them may not be allowed. I like samizdat.

7) the Pacific Ocean, Monterey, Santa Cruz and the Oregon coast,

8) thrift store shopping and garage sales. I've been furnishing my house and getting all of my appliances that way for years.

9) being able to go to a temp agency and pick up work for a day or two when I really need or want some extra money for something. I will not be allowed to work in Tha*ila*nd.

10) having the quirky, unusual "Tha*il*and Gal" identity. Believe it or not, I have more friends and acquaintances than ever in my life, simply because they like the eccentricities of "Tha*ila*nd Gal". (It is more than just the blog. I named the blog that because of my identity here.) Over there, I'll just be another farang. It will be nothing unusual at all.

Peace,

~Chani

Bad day at Blackrock...

Okay. Today isn't one of those days where I will wax poetic about beautiful Thailand or do any deep soul-searching about the meaning of life.

I'm pissed! And one of the things that really irritates me about being me is that I have such a hard time admitting that I simply don't like someone! I somehow inherited the belief that I don't have the right or something.

One of my housemates, V. , has had a rough few years. I've written about his alcoholism problem here before and talked about the beginnings of his recovery. I'm a believer in redemption and always want to think the best of everyone. In my mind, V. was quite the victim, one who is misunderstood and really just wants a simple life and is forced by circumstances to.. blah blah blah. Never once did it occur to me that he could possibly just be a lazy, lying, foul-mouthed, inconsiderate a-hole! That's the "before" and "after" picture.

Well, he is all that and more. He's one of the most insincere, dishonest people I've ever known. He's a manipulative sociopath. And I honestly believe he is just hanging around, waiting for D. to die so that he can collect her estate. (V is D's son.) Still, we make excuses for him. He's only been sober for a few months and he'll get better. He's just trying to do the best he can with what he has... blah blah blah.

My words and my truth are inconsistent because I really just want to slap him silly, tell him to grow up, stop using other people and find the life he wants and start living it. I'm lying so that he can save face. I am lying to keep the peace between them because I don't have the strength to "be there" for D, one more time, through one more V horror story.

D. is having foot surgery next week. She will be unable to move around freely while her foot heals. The doctor has told her that she is not supposed to get up and walk around. She is not even supposed to get up to fix her own meals. In my mind, that means "all hands on deck." I have cleared any plans I have during those ten days to be available for her.

V's girlfriend committed to babysitting him through sobriety for three months. After that point, she does not want to be dragging him home with her every week and driving here on the weekends. She lives in San Francisco. We are in Sacramento. She is going to heaven for doing it as long as she has.

The end of her commitment coincides with D's surgery. V. will be here. We don't need the Psychic Friends Network to predict that he will most likely be in his room... passed out drunk.

Basically, that means he will not be available to help D. in any regard. It will put additional stress on her during her healing time and additional stress on me because I will be, as usual, in the middle, trying to keep peace. I will be in the position of once again making excuses for V's behavior ~ if nothing else, to sooth her so she'll heal as she should from surgery.

This time.. if that happens, V. and I are going to have words. Probably many nasty words. I will probably be leaving here and moving elsewhere. Living between those two has been a delicate balancing act for a very long time. I am reaching my limit of endurance.

I am not an assertive person by nature ~ but I... really.... don't.... like... that... guy!

There. I said it!


Peace,

~Chani

Bread and Roses

Back in my activist days, I remember feeling so passionate, so certain, that my generation would be the one to change the world. We did, you know. I honestly believe to this day that if it hadn't been for our activism, gay people would still be in the closet, Black people would not have equal rights, women wouldn't have the choices we have today and working people would be in much worse shape.

We have seen some setbacks since the days of Reagan when discrimination once again became acceptable. We battled those forces on the streets, in the media and in challenging the thinking in every possible venue. Many of the activists of my generation became discouraged and bought into the dominant culture, taking up the "yuppie" mantle. Most people know the history of that period well enough. Those of us who still carry the fire in our bellies are older now. We no longer have the energy to fight the dragons. It is time to pass the torch to the next generation.

Over the past four months, I have read a lot of blogs. I often choose them at random from other people's "comments" section. In that process, I came across Jen at "one plus two" and Mad Hatter. These two women represent the best of the activist tradition, both in their political leanings and their personal and professional lives.

They have presented a challenge on their blogs to define the social justice issue about which we feel most strongly and post them to either our blogs or to either one of their comments sections. Jen will compile the list and use it in a reception setting for a mock wedding ceremony. It's a cute way to get people to discuss and define these issues.

So, I gave it some thought and came up with the social justice issue that still lights my fire, still makes me feel that heat in my belly that would (sans arthritis and CFS) ordinarily have me out on the front lines.

It is the right of working people to have jobs free of exploitation. The sweat shop of old has now become the corporate cube-farm where employees are still required to work long hours without sufficient pay. Instead of paying workers by the hour, the corporations came up with the ego-assuaging idea of designating nearly all positions as "salaried" which means they are free of overtime costs. Workers are laid off, their pensions diverted to deceptive "401K" plans that often means they will not be free to retire ~ ever. CEOs of corporations drive Jaguars and send their kids to Harvard while low-wage workers wonder how to feed their kids and get medical care. Most people at all ranges of the socio-economic scale work long hours, denying them adequate time to nurture their family lives. Kids are stuck in impersonal day care centers where mothers and fathers have little input into their upbringing. Day care workers promote capitalistic and consumerist values to the children.

Now we go into the next phase of worker exploitation called "globalization". Worker security is forfeited in the name of corporate profit while workers in third world countries are exploited without even the minimal protections of workers in the US. The propaganda machine cranks out endless justifications, all of them cloaked in positive language, to make this sound like "progress".

Jen and Mad, you ask what you can do about it. I will not presume to tell you what direction to take. That will come from your heart and your intuition. Join with likeminded others and raise the consciousness of those who are not of like mind. I will promote one of the groups of which I was a member for many years: The Women's International League for Peace and Freedom. They are a good resource for focus groups on these issues. The link is on my sidebar.

That is the issue I bring to the table for your consideration, Jen and Mad Hatter, as I pass the torch along with much gratitude to you, I place palms together to both of you. (Deep respect)


As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: "Bread and Roses! "Bread and Roses!"

As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too!

As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days.
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and Roses


Peace,


Chani
~*~*

Choosing and choosing again...

Thanks for the additional questions, Anonymous. :) You ask if I might become disillusioned with Thailand in a few years.

My view on that is two-fold really. One of the most important things learned during my lifetime is to never eliminate the possibility of making new choices. One of my favorite axioms is "if you choose wrong, choose again." That is the true nature of freedom. We are never stuck with a situation unless we are in prison or otherwise confined. Even then, we get to choose how we deal with it.

One of the things that concerns me on occasion is that the side of me present on this blog might seem a bit naive, kind of fuzzy-headed and overly idealistic. In fact, that is a big part of who I am. I am an intense, deeply feeling person. It's the part of me that was crushed and trampled for such a very long time. However, it is not the part of me that makes choices. I am also a pragmatist, rather calculating in my choices and am a reluctant risk-taker. My time in "the desert" taught me that all actions have consequences and since I didn't have anyone to protect me and not much wisdom, I learned to carefully consider any choice or decision. I learned to think in terms of worse-case scenarios because in my ignorance, that is where many of my choices led. There was no room for dreams or idealism in the desert. It was cold, hard. raw reality ~ all the time. In retrospect, it was a good lesson but it was bloody hard.

Are there things I will dislike about Thailand? Absolutely! A few of them are already apparent. For one thing, I am not a fan of hot weather. Humidity sucks. Insects aren't at the top of my list, either. The Thai habit of being fast and loose about time annoys the hell out of me. I am a very reliable person and dislike people who say they will do something and fail to follow through. Thais are kind of wishy-washy. Seriously. That is going to bug me. There are probably times when I will get really angry ~ and jai yen (cool heart) is everything in Thailand. That will be a challenge for a person with a temper like mine. Additionally, I will always be a "farang", no matter what.

But.. in the final analysis, I had to look at it in terms of cost/benefit. In Thailand, I will feel at home. I will have enough money to live on with dignity. I'm connected to Thailand's soil and the cycle of life. It will be life in a culture and a lifestyle that is intrinsically compatible with the person I am. Sometimes we have to accept the bad along with the good. There is no paradise on earth. Just like finding a wife or a husband, if we go into it with the intent of changing the other person, we fail every time and will be disappointed. If I go to Thailand, expecting it to be my Thailand, I will become disappointed and bitter. It is not Thailand's job to adapt to me. It is my job to adapt to Thailand. Fortunately, it seems to come kind of naturally to me so I don't anticipate a negative period of adjustment in that regard.

My life in Thailand will not be substantially different on a day-to-day basis. I plan to write a lot more, perhaps even something book-length. I will still cook and garden. I'll shop at the street markets. I'll take longer walks and go for an occasional hike. I'll still be a homebody and still be a fairly quiet-natured, contemplative person. Maybe, if the fates are with me, I'll even meet a life companion. I'm really, really sick of being alone but meeting the impossible standards of western men is something I simply can not do. I anticipate a rather quiet, contented existence in a place where I will be in synch instead of always at odds.

As for coming back here, no. That will not happen. If Thailand becomes unbearable, if the government is overthrown and it becomes impossible to stay there, there are other locations in Southeast Asia with a similar Eastern worldview. I have decided that I can no longer live in an environment that crushes my spirit or that is incompatible with my values. This culture seems to be going even further in that direction. I wish people here well ~ and want only the best for all Americans. There's a root concern for the future of the country but I can no longer make a life here and remain healthy.


Peace,

Chani
~*~*

Boo, Oprah! Big Boo!

Yesterday afternoon, I sat down in the late afternoon and turned on Oprah. Ordinarily, she doesn't interest me much but it seemed like the thing to do.

Her show was about a documentary done by a few guys in Los Angeles who wondered what would happen if a homeless person was given $100,000.00. Would he "rise to the occasion" (yes, that phrase was used) or would he prove the belief of dominant culture that he was an irresponsible jerk who should never be trusted with opportunity?

The guy they picked, Ted Rodrigue, as the subject of the documentary apparently fit the latter category. Or at least that is how it would appear, unexamined.

What the producers failed to do was explore the actual content of Ted's perspectives. Why, he was asked, when he was offered that amount of money, did he not build? Why didn't he accept the job offers that were put before him? Why didn't he "rise to the occasion"?

He gave several clues. He admitted that he was irresponsible with some of the money because he bought friends. He gave a lot of the money away to others. He admitted that he irresponsibly bought a 34K truck when a 5K truck would have been just as good. He admitted that he could have chosen differently. He also told about his own personality characteristics and the things he believed led him to the streets at the beginning.

No one caught many of his most revealing statements though ~ or if they did, they glossed over it because it didn't support the agenda they were promoting. No one offered to counsel him within the context of who he is. No one counseled him that perhaps he could have started a home-based business with that money. Buy a used computer and set up an eBay business. He could have invested it to give himself a small income that would allow him to live with some dignity. No one counseled him to be absolutely certain that he doesn't follow an agenda other than his own, to discover who he is and make decisions within that framework. In fact, no one counseled him at all. They put a briefcase filled with money in a dumpster they knew he would check. Clearly, they used him. They set him up to fail.

He talked about his inability to "fit" into the culture of work. I would daresay that is true for many of us. Many are somehow able to tolerate it until their insides corrode like acid on a piece of paper. He couldn't. Just couldn't. He gave many clues as to why. All of them were valid, in my opinion. Again, no one explored. They judged. And, sure enough, they successfully perpetuated the typical view of homeless people, that they are childlike, irresponsible and unable to make decisions on their own behalf. Apparently, curing ignorance is of less value than accusing stupidity.

Big boo, Oprah! You had the chance to explore Ted's mindset and give us all an opportunity to gain some insight into those who wander the sidelines of this society, those who are forced into that position by an unrelenting, judgemental worldview that allows only one narrow path. You failed miserably. Who knew you were such a toadie? I'm disappointed. It seems the New Age Queen is little more than a shill after all.

Bleah.

~*~*

The template is broken on Blogger this morning. Hence, no pictures and no links. When that is fixed, I do want to offer some links and a few pictures.

~*~*

Peace everyone...


~Chani

Coming home... going home...

"Anonymous" asked me why I am so drawn to Thai culture, so much so that I have chosen to adopt it here. That really took some thought and even then, there is only a partial explanation. Part of it is experiential and doesn't lend itself to description ~ because it is a feeling.

There are aspects of Thai culture that to a born westerner are obnoxious. The lack of specifics, the disregard of time, the clearing of nostrils in public, squat toilets, trash cans filled with used toilet tissue, the lack of follow-through, (A Thai person will say anything, as long as it works in the moment), elements of kreng jai that feel dishonest and an assortment of other behaviors that really grated on my nerves. And that's not to mention the heat and the bugs.

Still, there was a visceral connection letting me know that somehow, for some reason, I *belonged*. It felt familiar. There is something inherent to the culture that acknowledges and recognizes our humanity. There are rituals and customs that honor the emotional and spiritual dimensions of us that are not present (in my perception) here.

I've never belonged here. Honestly, there is a not a single day when I felt at home, comfortable, accepted or included. I always felt alienated, separate and not embraced. Western culture feels sterile to me, one-dimensional and market-centric. While it gives lip service to family and friends, bonding and shared experience, there is nothing in the culture that actually supports it. It supports all the things necessary to make money, to obtain power and to be better than everyone else. It supports self-esteem over regard for others and it supports individual freedom above the good of all. "Rational self-interest" is a perfectly acceptable cultural edict. I'm sick of focus on the "self". Sick, sick, sick, heartsick of it.

In Thailand, I felt almost instantly "at home". The habits and customs took root rapidly. They just seemed so natural that it was seamless. I was smiling and wai-ing like I'd been at it all my life within a few weeks. My smiles were quite authentic, too, because everything was comfortable. It was like being included for the first time in the cycle and rhythm of life. Even the begging taxi drivers didn't bother me much. It all seemed to be part of the deep, rich tapestry that is Thailand.

When I came back, it felt like being thrown into a pool of freezing water. Being away from Thailand hurt so much that it caused me physical pain. That is when I came up with the rather radical idea of bringing Thailand to me here until I can get there. Some of us are so open, so vulnerable, that we need these rituals and customs to maintain a feeling of connection. I'm probably on the far end of that continuum. While Thailand is in my heart daily ~ all the time ~ I also want the outer manifestations. I want to touch it, smell it, see it, and hear it. That is why I am surrounded by Morlam music. That is why I carry a small amount of Thai soil in a locket necklace which never comes off except when showering. That is why I cook Thai food. That is why I bought all the clothes (which I can ill-afford). Do I miss my jeans and t-shirts? Hell, yes! But my connection to *it* is so important that I willingly give up old ways that didn't serve me or anyone who surrounds me. The name of the country is tattooed on my wrist. You know, I am saying this rather obviously. I'm fully committed.


The customs reach deep to the core of who I am and allow creative expression of who I truly am. By internalizing all of this, I have become a better person because my heart is full. That helps me to contribute to the lives around me in a more meaningful way. By allowing me to express more of me, I have much more to give to others.

And, yes, there are probably some people who think I am a flaming nut. I made a radical decision and radical decisions sometimes have radical consequences. That needs to be okay because if those perceptions limit my ability to be the best person I can be, we all lose.

I will answer this further as things come up of possible interest. :) Thanks for asking, Anon.

Peace to all ~


Chani
~*~*

Reflections on one month...

....of writing.

I have some mixed feelings about this past month. By nature, I am not a chatty person. I have no illusions that my life minuteia is of interest to anyone. For this past month, I made the conscious decision to write daily, regardless of how it felt. If it felt bad, good or otherwise, I sat down here at this desk and pounded it out.

Sometimes it was an awesome experience when I'd hear from others and we'd interact. To get positive feedback was very encouraging. Other times, there was a fear of hollering into the great vast nothingness. On a personal level, there was some regret ~ regret at having said one thing or another that may have brought disapproval. It made me aware that I am still far too dependent on the approval of others. While that is not a bad thing intrinsically since we need to care how others perceive us, when it is out of balance it's unhealthy. I've hit that unhealthy space a few times. The way to be a force for good in the world is to put aside the self and that kind of egoism. I have not always done that well. Lesson learning. Not learned. Yet.

Yesterday when I read Sevenwind's post, I went out in the back yard for a smoke. (Yes, I know it's bad for my health. Thank you.) I sat and thought about that. How in the world could my puny, meaningless navel-gazing could be of interest to anyone? There comes a time when it is appropriate to stop imitating Thai values and to live 'em!

And, yes, I needed to be that blunt. Yesterday, Sevenwinds was my teacher ~ and gave me a needed kick in the ass.

That doesn't mean I'll ever be out in the world "making my mark". That isn't my style and I don't want it to be my style. I am a very quiet person, not assertive, and don't plan to become such. At the same time, there are many ways to contribute more to the pool of light we all draw on.

Sometimes it's been a growing experience as I look over what I've written and peices fall into place that didn't quite make sense. In particular, writing about my years in the desert gave me some perspective on how it happened. I was always so afraid of rejection that I just stopped moving at all. I did everything possible to be small and invisible because that was safer than the risk of not being liked. It never ceases to amaze me how much unhealed crap sticks around, never truly healing until it is exposed to the harshness of light.

Sometimes someone would share a snippet of thought that would set me off on a time of reflection, a new book bought, something learned, something to consider that changed my way of viewing the world on a fairly permanent basis. One of the downsides of being a loner and a nomad is that we sometimes don't get as much input from others as we should. We can become insular. For every one of you who have consistently read what I had to say, probably even when it generated nothing more than a bone-crushing yawn, I thank you. I thank you for watching the Chani-paint dry when probably just about anything would have been preferable ... like overnight infomercials.

From here on, I am not going to commit to writing daily. I will write when I have something to say, something that is thoughtful and considerate, something that will contribute to the light in the world. My guess is that a few times a week, maybe more some weeks, will be my pattern. Sometimes every day if I'm on a rip. It's important now for me to make the choice on a daily basis.

This is not a goodbye. It is just a "see you less often". I value all of you and have come to "know" some of you as well as fellow travelers on the Internet can. I enjoy keeping up with you and knowing how you are doing, what you're thinking about, what you're reading and doing. You are all a wonder ~ and such a gift to this eccentric old loner.

So.. I'll see you later. :)

May peace be with you all ~


~Chani

Customs and their meanings....

Note: In wandering around the internet this morning, reading the blogs I read each morning, I came across this over at Sevenwinds. It is not often I will do this, but I ask everyone to skip my entry and read Sevenwinds. What I have to say below is pure crap in comparison.

~*~

Every now and then, the folks at Thai-Blogs.com probably like it when I write something about Thailand. :) I'm hoping that providing some of my background will provide context for the reasons I've made the choices I have, what draws me and what makes Thailand such an important part of my future.

I got into a discussion recently with someone on the Khorat-Farang forum about the differences between here and there ~ and the reasons why the customs I've adopted from there make living here more bearable. It's kind of unfortunate that the discussion went to private email because I still think it would have been a useful forum topic.

As a true child of the 60s, my primary goal in life was to expose and break down all the customs and rituals that seemed phoney and meaningless (which to a person filled with existential angst and lack of direction was just about everything). I was too young and immature to understand that ritual provides us with consistency and meaning. It provides context to a joined experience. Customs and ritual reinforce dominant culture. That's why we are encouraged in every public venue to adopt them. I was too adolescent and silly to understand that customs and ritual are critical to socialization. (I don't mean to go all pedantic here and won't.. but my educational background is in sociology. If I'd been rich and idle, I would have gone for a PhD in Cultural Anthropology.)

Anyway, I was spunky and angry which isn't a useful combination. The icons I 'clasted' weren't replaced with anything so I was a person who just didn't do a damn thing, didn't attach to anything. (That is the obvious genesis of "the desert".) The reckless part is that I knew better. It seemed "rebellious" and, oh so, avante garde. I wanted to be edgy. It was just stupid, ignorant and arrogant. It was honest-to-god private anomie. Instead of "My Private Idaho", it was "My Private Anomie".

It is within that contextual background that I adopted Thai customs. The fact is that they are beginning to have meaning. At first, it was like a training exercise. I did it because it was expected and because that's what I'd chosen. I paid close attention to each one, doing it diligently. If the rule book says I don't eat finger food with my left hand, I won't eat finger food with my left hand. This matters. They didn't have any real meaning in the beginning. "Fake it 'til you make it". I was trying them on, to see how or what they would make me feel. I became my own social experiment.

They do make me feel something.. deeply. They do speak to me. There is something about tapping into that depth of history that causes roots to form and grow, going further and further into my own core. On the surface, some of the customs appear ridiculous. (I'll detail some of them along the way ~ carefully ~ because I don't want to offend any of my Thai friends.) Yet even those have tentacles, weaving from one thing to another until it finally connects to the commonality between all of us. Isn't that all most of us are looking for?


Peace to all~

Chani

~*~*

And thus I present a challenge....

Given what I had to tell about "the desert" yesterday, I hope one of the things that became very clear is how easily it can happen. We know someone. She appears fine each day. She's not disliked. She's not unpleasant or troubled. She's kind of quiet-natured and doesn't share much about her private life. You might know her at school ~ at work ~ at the bookstore ~ in the neighborhood, walking her dog. You might have an occasional pleasant conversation and part ways.

She might be in the desert. It happens. It doesn't only happen to people who are distasteful for some reason. It can happen with Everyperson.

I have made peace with my experience but I won't say that those who surrounded me couldn't have made it easier with a tiny amount of effort. During those times, a phone call, an invitation for coffee ~ some minor act of friendship ~ would have meant the world to me. If we'd all been able to step out of ourselves a little bit (me included because I had too much pride to admit how alone I truly was) maybe the time wouldn't have been quite so long ~ or quite so hard.

And thus, I present a challenge:

To all who are willing, I would like to see everyone make a commitment to inviting one such person to your home for the holidays. Allow that person to have a place in your family and with those known to you. Step out of your comfort zone and include someone new. Just one person.

It might just bring someone out of the desert ~ if only for a day.

Peace to all ~


~Chani

I've been in the desert... and the horse has a name...

28 November 2006 (Thai-bloggers- 28-11-2549)

This one is for Gobody, my blogger pal who is gracious enough to allow me to use his "comments" section as a chat room. :)

You asked about the desert and how I got from there to here.

I should make it clear that I am only half way "here", really. I am not entirely free of the desert yet. I will not be free until I see Thailand through my front window but it is something I process differently. I have grown to respect the cycles of our lives. Tide in/tide out. The fallow times aren't quite so fallow. I also have a clearer understanding of how and why it happened. When it does happen, it might be for a day or two ~ and then it kind of drifts away and things go back to normal. Whenever it comes though, I stand at attention because it means class is in session.

The desert is... complete invisibility. It means no invitations, no phone calls, no birthday cards in the mail, no holiday memories, no dates, no email, no interaction at all with other human beings with the exception of casual, focused conversations that have a goal or objective, usually at my expense. And it's not for lack of trying. It just means you make lots of effort for no return. It means no social support network. It means the possibility of ending up as one of those people who die in their apartment and no one knows it until the rent is due.

It means standing still and taking it when someone comes up and invites others to a gathering, right in front of you as though you are a potted plant.

It means being consistently abandoned and never knowing why.

It means having the feeling deep inside that there is something so intrinsically unacceptable about your very being that no one could possibly have any interest in knowing you. It is complete and utter self-loathing. It is hating who you are at the very core ~ and having no explanation why.

It means you can not depend on anyone, ever, for anything except more disappointment.

It means you just don't matter ~ to anyone.

And it also means that it is not because you are universally disliked or despised.That would be too easy. Living in the desert is like living an enigma wrapped in a puzzle. There are no answers, just feelings. Just desolation. It doesn't mean that you've done anything wrong or there is a cause-effect relationship that you can identify.

It's just.... invisibility.

I lived that way for more than ten years. And there are consequences.

So, fast forward to now ~ I am a reserved person and my friendships are deeply forged and long-lasting. They are not dependent on social conventions. The world is not a friendly or warm place to me but I have a knack for finding the cream of the crop and befriending those people. These days, I honestly believe I have the best friends the world has to offer, both American and Thai.

My first real friend, whom I nicknamed "Sage", is the one who held my hand while I emerged from the cave, shell-shocked and blinded by the light. She is the first person in my life who offered me unconditional love ~ and I do mean unconditional. She stood by me while I learned how to function in the world again and learned that I didn't have to be scared and defensive all the time. She stood by while I learned some very basic things about the social world. Like a mother, she would tell me when to send people cards and when to return phone calls. She guarded me like a Mama Bear, making sure no one could possibly undermine any progress I'd made. She answered all of my questions, no matter how silly, with patience and understanding. To this day, she is my most trusted friend and I will love her until I take my final breath. Even more importantly, I would trust her with my life. She is my family. And she has earned enough karmic merit for ten lifetimes, just for putting up with me. I wasn't always easy. I was angry, defensive, scared and prickly.

Time went along and change began. People took to me a bit more and I made a few more friends. Still, I am very cautious about who I call "friend" because once someone has won that place of trust in my life, they get my whole heart. Those are the people I would tear the shirt off my back for, give my last dime to or walk on coals for. They are the ones I would die for. (Bad sentence but I'm not changing it! :)

The logical question naturally is why I had to walk through the desert.

In my belief, it was karma. It was left-over stuff from a previous life. It was a life not lived well, during which I abused others, took advantage of them, was uncaring, lacked compassion and humanity. Something tells me that I was probably quite a selfish b*tch. In psychological terms, it would be called "sociopath". I was told by a past-life regression hypnotist some of the specifics but I am not going to blog that part of it. It's too private.

One of the primary laws of the cosmos is that actions have consequences. We might escape during this life, but we will not escape the consequences forever. There are certain lessons each soul must learn to go forward. The desert is a crash course. When I came to realize that, my final years in the desert took on a different turn. It became a time of intense learning and self-reflection. It became the time when I would grow leaps and bounds within a matter of weeks.

Some good things came out of the desert of the soul. I am easily able to love others unconditionally. I am very compassionate and empathetic, probably too much so. Judgement of others is something that totally escapes me. It doesn't even make sense to judge another person. It's not a moral issue, it is an intellectual one. My brain will not process judgement, racism or hatred. My needs are fairly minimal and I don't demand from others. In fact, I request nothing more than compassion, honesty and integrity. I offer nothing more than compassion, honesty and integrity.

I don't feel bound by social convention, aside from the conventions I have voluntarily adopted. If I don't like Christmas, I ignore it and don't feel at all odd about it. I do not issue guilt trips. I do not manipulate. Nor do I accept either of those. I'm a simple person. WYSIWYG.

There are some leftover remnants which I'm sure will heal as my life continues. The time in the desert was very traumatizing and I still feel bruising. I am not socially at ease and I'm hypersensitive to rejection. I will grow out of those eventually. Heck, I've only been in the daylight for twelve years. There is still much growing to be done, a lot of learning to be done. I'm looking forward to the process.

Peace to all~


Chani
~*~*

Weltschmertz....

Removed by author. Clearly another dud. LOL

I don't think I am really all that great at this daily writing business.

See you all soon :)

May peace be with you all...


~Chani

Tattoos ...

This morning, we had a rather interesting discussion about tattoos. PJ, V.'s girlfriend, thinks it is time for her to get one. It does seem to be a right of passage of some sort, although I'm not sure why. :)

What to choose? That was her biggest concern. Since it would be with her for a lifetime, it nneds to be relevant and have some meaning in her life, right?

When I chose mine, the most important thing is that it represents something I am committed to for the rest of my life. It had to really matter. That means no names of former boyfriends or ex-husbands. I wanted something that was pretty but meaningful. No cartoon characters. Nothing that seemed outrageously funny at the moment but would wear thin after 300 showers or so. I didn't want anything trendy. I was sober when I got them.

I chose a lotus flower because it represents the unfolding of the process of life itself, the learning, growing, changing and finally maturing and dying. At the same time, it is just plain beautiful.

On my wrist, I have the name "Thailand". The reason for that is probably rather obvious. At the same time, it is unique. The guy who did it was creative and clever. I'm happy with it. It is also placed right near my hand where I can cover it up with a cuff bracelet if that is necessary for some reason.

Both of those things represent lifetime commitments, the things that are at the core of who I am. They are unchanging.

Any thoughts out there? What should PJ consider before choosing a tattoo? What would you consider? Do you already have some? What does it mean to you?


Peace,


~Chani
~*~*

Marriage... Nerd Style

A friend of mine has a daughter who is getting married. Occasionally I get a phone call from her. She talks and talks and talks about wedding preparations. It exhausts me, just listening to her!

I don't see why people don't get married the way my ex and I did, standing on the beach at Santa Cruz with a minister we'd found in the alternative newspaper.

My brother talked me into placing an ad in that very same alternative newspaper called "The Metro" to meet a boyfriend. He told me that if I didn't hurry up and get married, I'd never find someone because I was "getting too damn old." I got some interesting responses but one stood out in particular. It was typed, extremely well-written and self-descriptive in a way that actually told me something about the writer. He was a free-thinker, very politically involved, worked on computers and had written his own programming language. I remember being impressed with that last part.

Most of them were the equivalent of "yeah.. uh... I'm like uh six feet tall and uh dunno how much I weigh either. I got blue eyes and black hair. I like sex a lot. Call me."

I threw them in the trash right away.

I called the guy who typed his response and used an entire two pages to tell me about himself.

Three months later, I married him.

We made the decision to get married one evening as we sat in his house, watching a memory test on one of his many computers. The dots traveled across the screen, went to the next line, traveled across the screen again, and repeated that pattern some ungodly number of times. He looked over at me and said, "let's get married."

I said, "okay."

I was 34. He was 43.

The next day he bought me a CB radio and installed it in my car so that we could communicate when we'd be driving around the Bay Area, usually going to one temp job or another. He worked in Sunnyvale. I had a contract in Santa Clara. We would make up weird conversations to entertain any possible listeners. (If we did something like that these days, we would end up with the FBI or Homeland Security at the door.)

"Get the dead drop before the eagle lands."

The following weekend, we looked through the Metro and found a guy who had a license and could marry us. He charged forty dollars. C. wore his jeans and t-shirt. I wore a bohemian gauze skirt and a peasant top. He wore boots. I was barefoot.

We stood at the shore, close enough to the water that it touched my feet a few times. The minister went through some sort of ritual and we went along, repeating what we were told to say. A few times we looked at each other and I'd swear we both had the same thought: who is this person? I barely know you!

We were finished and went back home to our cozy little house in downtown Santa Cruz. We sat on the same couch looking at each other. I'm not sure which one of us felt more awkward.

TG: "Well, I think this is the part where we....."

CC: "Yeah. That's what people do, I hear."

TG : "Then I want to do something different."

CC: "Okay. What?"

TG: "Let's do it on the lawn in the back yard."

CC: "It's cold out there."

TG: "We'll warm up."

CC: "True. Okay. Let's go. Bring a blanket."

That was our exciting wedding night. We came back in and read our books.

It doesn't have to be dramatic or stressful! :)


Peace all ~


Chani
~*~*

The nature in us....

The picture above is the crepe myrtle tree I planted a few years ago in the back yard. It is ready to go into a long rest for the winter. Even in California, the trees eventually shed their leaves, reduce themselves to the minimum to store their energy.

And I seem to be going into hibernation as well. Last night, I fell into bed at 9.00 PM to watch CSI. I fell asleep almost immediately and didn't get up for 11 hours. It's this kind of thing that reminds me that we're all still a bunch of mammals, like the rest of the mammals, and the patterns of light do affect our sleeping and waking.

However, this is one I hope to conquer. Ordinarily, I like to get up and have my exercising done before the world comes alive. The ideal time for my walk is about 6.30 AM or so. That hasn't been so for past week or so as this recent pattern has taken hold. I hope this will stop before hibernating is combined with "storing fat". :)

One thing I wanted to talk about a bit today is in response to a commenter I had during the night on an older post. He/She said:

Anonymous said...
Hi,just stumbled across your thai blog searching the web for a blog niche myself.I live in Thailand for almost 16 years now and I wish to inform you that this "thailand" we wish to 'escape' to is only to be found within ourselves!Once I was a great fan of india and i had been given the nickname 'the indian'because everything was indian in my home,i cooked indian food, played indian music, read indian philosophy, learned to play the sitar.I went frequently on trips to this fabulous country.One day a close friend of mine asked me when I be going back to india and I answered: "not too soon, i guess.."Why? He replied... And I said: "guess india is everwhere, once you've arrived!"my peace and wisdom be with us all!

I would like to respectfully disagree. Environment matters. Feelings of belonging and a sense of shared values are important for human development. We are not self-contained units who are unaffected by each other. We are social beings. In the same way all mammals hibernate in winter, we need each other. This is limbic survival stuff. While some of us may be less inclined to socialize in an organized manner (such as this INFJ), we still want to know we are surrounded by "the pack" to keep us safe. We need comraderie. We need to feel a sense of being a part of something bigger than ourselves as individuals. Individualistic, "me first" thinking truly leads nowhere and is at odds with the very nature of us.

I would further comment to the writer that India and Thailand do share many common values. The social structures are not substantially different. India is becoming westernized (colonized? - I'll refrain from comment there :) more rapidly than Thailand but the root values that hold the society together are still evident.

However, Anonymous, I do agree with your final comment. May peace and wisdom be with us all. :)

Peace,

~Chani

Shameless filler post...

Yes, this is a shameless filler post. I don't believe anyone is going to sit here and listen to all this music. It's just something I created last night during a rather boring episode of "CSI: NY". If you'd like to click on a few and listen, great! If not, that's okay, too. Drop by tomorrow and I will do my best to be a bit more interesting! (laughing)

~*

Just for the sheer heck of it, I thought I'd come up with some interesting music. Music has always been a big part of my life and in some ways, it spoke for me when I couldn't speak. Some people can write poetry. I can not. So I listen to the lyrics of songs instead.

These two videos are Mor Lam music which is Thai country music. To me, it is soulful and there is something that grabs me deep inside, something way at the roots. For those who don't care for Asian music, it will just sound like noise. :)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8fAflQq50s - Mor Lam

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IAGQe_95U8 -Mor Lam

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jXnBmxooLw - Christie Gibson (a white woman sings Mor Lam. The video quality is terrible but her voice with that music is kind of interesting.)

~*
When I was a kid and very shut down emotionally, I used to listen to the radio for hours, often hearing songs that would say what I wish I could have said.

Songs that tell my story as a young person:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76W-Wkg49tg - At Seventeen - Janis Ian

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bqj-n0IG1Ik - Because of You - Kelly Clarkson

~*

Everyone needs a good break-up song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYvHoaV-ST0 - The Dance - Garth Brooks

Unless you're really pissed off, in which case this is the one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZTrPClFCKM - You Oughta Know - Alanis Morissette

~*

I like these for singing along. (Of course I wait until my housemates aren't home. Otherwise, they'd probably turn the hose on me.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1QAN7NOqXX4 - Be Without You- Mary J Blige

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD_8oE54SAU - The Line - Lisa Stansfield

~*

I can't exercise without music. These are two of my favorites:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkPFpFwvCHM - Hips Don't Lie - Shakira

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuOhUa5GxA0 - Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benetar


~*

Finally... the two cheesiest songs ever written. Someone should go to prison for these.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5oZfF5-GJQ - You LIght Up My Life - Bianca Ryan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJ-1jipE5Ms - Do I Make You Proud? - Taylor Hicks


Peace to all ~ and may all who celebrate have a great holiday!


~Chani

Gratitude

For those who may have difficulty reading my chicken-scratching:

My gratitude is primarily for the process of life itself ~ the ability to learn, to grow, to change and to choose again when I've chosen incorrectly. I'm grateful to be sober and sane ~ and for the clarity to make better choices.

And I am grateful to all of you, my cyber community, for being an integral part of that.

May all have a wonder-filled Thanksgiving.

Peace to all ~

Chani (Thailand Gal)
~*~*