It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.' It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It's so beautiful when you don't have high expectations on a place and then it ends up being your favourite one in a country. I came to Don Det thinking it was the typical place owned by drunk backpackers with nothing authentic. But you just need a short bike ride to find beautiful villages nestled in the Mekong where people still smile at you. Where life is so much simpler, yet beautiful. Where there are no cars or proper roads. kids put together a football field with bamboo sticks as goalposts. The roosters wake you up while chickens, buffalos and pigs cross the road at any moment. On Saturday afternoon after a week of hard work in countryside or fishing, all gather together singing loud Lao music with a beer in the hand. Lush small islands, waterfalls, river dolphins and 360° nature. In the evening, there isn't anything to do but relaxing on hammocks listening to geckos and crickets and looking for shoting stars. This is one of those places that restore the soul and make you feel better. Thank you Laos🇱🇦
Caught the funicular (cable) train up to Penang Hill today. The train is the only one of its kind in the whole of Malaysia so it had to be done. It was plenty steep though.
The queues were mad but it was worth the wait to catch the views. Swipe 👉🏽 to see.
#NyaungShwe I thought it was just one or two monks walking past me and nekminit there were about 30 just walking in a row, I think to get arms. This is quite normal in Myanmar.
A lot of monks in Myanmar were children in hardship who lost their parents and were brought to a monastery to have a supportive environment. From what I’ve heard, there’s no stigma against monks who leave at the age of 18 to get a job which is nice. It’s funny that we idealise monks as special beings whose presence bring us some sense of peace and so expect they should live a particular way to continue that purpose - it’s a kind of self-centred thing of us I think. They are just humans who’ve entered a particular lifestyle often due to difficult circumstances. I don’t find it unnerving or weird to (occasionally) see monks smoking cigarettes. It’s kind of cool that a lot of normal people in Myanmar will also enter the monastery and shave their heads for a week or two.
Monks are everywhere in Myanmar and they are dressed so elegantly, it’s very photogenic - I wonder how sick they are of being the object of photographs of random foreigners like myself.
Not all sunrises are created equal
Maybe Myanmar is called golden Myanmar because of its sunrises and sunsets. Still the best sunrise i have ever seen. I think i will always remember this sunrise that made me realise that if you dont go out of your way to break out of your life that gets routine very quickly, you will suddenly realise you have wasted too much time.
Which is your fav place to catch a sunrise? Let me know in the comments below!