Back at the cheap internet spot, locals only, mostly kids playing video games, plus me, the farang writer who likes the cheap access.... 35 cents an hour for some good high-speed action.
I've decided that Wednesday is D Day, and I'll buy my ticket for the 3 day trip to Luang Prabang later this evening. I can get it for about $50, which includes two night's lodging, 3 meals, and the van and boat trips which will put me into Laos. Such a deal! I have a guy who I've been using for travel stuff, his English is good, he's sweet, kinda gay, I'm guessing, and he gets my business because I like his style and thoroughness and honesty. I think he likes me too, but that's about as far as it goes, eh.
I spent a wonderful 25 hour stretch with the lovely M, and there wasn't a moment when I wanted to be anywhere else. (except for when she was sleeping, and I did some stuff). And at the end of it, as we were having coffee and our typical breakfast of rice soup with either ground pork or chicken, I got into one of those mind places that triggered the 'I want to write about this' feeling in my brain. So here goes.
One of the parts of my personality that needs work is this need I have for recognition, strokes, positive feedback, reassurance. I remember when I was about 12 years old at the doctor's office and was nervous about getting a shot. The doctor says to my mom, in a very nasal new york accent, "Lois, Richie needs a lot of reassurance" Me and mom laugh about it now, but it was likely a telling statement on his part.
Up til now, I've attributed my desire for positive vocal feedback to the fact that I'm so aurally focused that I need to 'hear' stuff in order to 'understand' it. I tend to be visually lazy and easily confused by visual stuff. Reading music was a terrible chore, and I always sucked at it. It took me so long to decipher and decode written music that it became too much of a frustration, and I gave it up. But I can hear progressions really well and play by ear really well. Put the same stuff I'm playing in musical notation, and I'm totally lost. Ditto with reading a menu. Show me a long menu with lots of items, my mind basically shuts down and I have trouble making a selection based on a bunch of written material. I'd be infinitely happier if someone says, 'you want the chicken or the fish?'
So yeah, it was a convenient answer to say that I needed spoken acknowledgement in order to feel good about myself. After all, when I hear it, I know it. Didn't Bob Marley write, 'who hears it knows it, lord'. That would be me.
But there's more to it than that, as evidenced by our interaction over breakfast. I found myself wanting to hear, 'Rich you're so awesome, I'm so lucky to have met you, what a lover, all those kinds of comments that I'm quite free in expressing to her, or to others as well. I like to give the positive feedback, and maybe it's my way of hoping it comes back in my direction as well. Or maybe I'm just expressive like that.
Anyhow, it wasn't coming back to me in that way, and I found myself slipping into that state of wanting to hear it, and having that desire start to color my experience. I was observing my mind do this thing, so it wasn't a case of bumming out or being disappointed in not hearing it, more it was an awareness of this place that my mind tends to go. (and the thought that 'I should write about that')
She saw me get thoughtful and asked if I'm OK. I said 'I'll tell you if you're interested'... she nodded and I moved my chair closer to her side of the table, as I didn't want to broadcast my inner world to the rest of the customers. She said, 'you can tell me from there, I can hear you' (not knowing that I was going to try and delve into some sensitive stuff). That stung a bit and I retreated to my spot like a hurt child, yet another button, sheesh. But I didn't get too far into the hurt place, and explained that it's kind of private and I don't want others to overhear what I was going to try and process. And then I went back to the closer spot.
I made it clear that I wasn't looking for her to change anything, this was about me and wanting to explore this thing that's been with me for decades. So I explained it and didn't let her interrupt me until I was done. She heard me well, and then shared some wisdom from her perspective. 'If I don't like you, I don't stay with you, I don't go to your place, I don't make love with you' 'It easy to say 'I love you' but sometime people say I love you and then act different. You can tell from my body language and the way I treat you'...
There was something healing in just being able to have the conversation in the first place, to be understood and to listen and be listened to. If feels like one more unraveling of the onion, one more experience of observing the mind, rather than being dominated by it. She asked if I'm OK, and yeah, of course I am, but not in the happy-go-lucky 'everything is beautiful' way. It was a thoughtful and emotional space, and definitely a good foray into solving one of my long time issues. Gratitude about that.
I walked her home, and she put on some music, and what she chose was Peter Paul and Mary singing 'Leaving on a Jet Plane', about leaving one's love 'don't know when I'll be back again'. She likes those songs where she can really understand and sing along with the English. It triggered some emotion from me, just the bizarre circumstance of her putting that song on, made me cry and laugh at the same time. She asked 'you cry or laugh?' I said, 'yes'.
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