Page 44 of Status Undefined
“I had a lot of dreams, but I didn’t really tell anyone about them.”
“Smart. I share too much.” I couldn’t have agreed with him more.
“But your family…” I started to say.
“That’s exactly the point. They only care about history, culture and tradition. I’m sick of it. Everyone’s living in the past, like the walking dead. There are ghosts in the houses here, and in the people who live in them, but not in my soul. I think the ghosts are afraid of what they’d find in there. I want a future, a better future for myself. I’m gay. I can’t get married here. I don’t need any more proof that I don’t belong, that so many of us don’t belong. I’m not a social justice warrior. I just want to live my dreams. Should I be ashamed of that? Even if I love men, I’m still a real man and I like that. I like being who I am and I’m proud of it. I don’t want to be another person complaining about politics and rights. I haven’t got time for that – it’s boring and depressing. The world is open to me, and I can choose a place that is good for me and people like me. Why not do it?”
He’d obviously thought about this a lot, given the frustration in his voice. Sometimes I wondered about the effects of being an influencer and it seemed like I had represented something for him – perhaps living proof that dreams can come true.
“I didn’t know gays couldn’t get married in Thailand. In Phuket it seemed like the gay community had total freedom.”
“Yes, that’s what it looks like from the outside, but there are many kinds of discrimination – for example not being able to marry. They teach us to respect the other, but no one respects us. People think we should be satisfied with living here and paying taxes like everyone else. Be grateful, it’s rude to think of leaving because of a little issue like marriage – though they would kill for it. I can’t live with the hypocrisy anymore.”
I thought about how terrible life in New York had been for me. I was pretty sure I had felt even more frustrated than Wind did. No, it wasn’t just being misunderstood – that wouldbe an understatement. Invisible? Transparent? It had felt like everyone around me was wearing sunglasses to filter out the ultra-violet rays emanating from my being. I tried to hide it, but light radiates even during a solar eclipse, or in the shade. The people around me protected themselves from me, saw only what they wanted to. Eventually, I understood that I couldn’t keep my light hidden any more. Even if they perceived it as dangerous – for their eyes, their skin, their souls – it was part of me. Their fear of being blinded by my light kept them from understanding that they were already blind.
“I really wanted to say this to you. I’m a nobody, but you have influence. You’re a digital nomad challenging fundamental norms, with a lot of followers. You can change the world!” said Wind.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I can’t influence the world. Nomads travel, but without leaving a trace. We’re not supposed to influence the character and culture of the places we visit briefly. We may be anarchists by definition but we’re not trying to create anarchy. We just want the freedom to enjoy the organized and digitized world we have. We’re rebels who don’t call for rebellion. We’re a minority, but not one fighting for its rights. We’re chaos contained within an ordered world.”
He looked skeptical and I wanted him to know that he had a lot more power than I did, so I continued.
“I may be an influencer, but I’m not supposed to influence the really important issues outside the U.S. I live consciously in this paradox. But it’s not the same as knowing, as gays, that the world has to change. I have no right to demand change in Thailand, but you do. You have much more strength and influence in your own country than I do. Maybe you see me as someone with a strong sense of self who knows how to get what he wants, but that’s just how it looks on Instagram. My life isa punching bag. Sometimes there are periods of peace when no one is bashing at me. But then another gym rat comes along and wallops me.”
I saw comprehension dawn on his face. He’d seen my post with Amit and now he saw me flying alone. Before he could ask the question I didn’t want to hear, I went on.
“What I’m trying to say is, don’t look to other people for answers. It’s good that you share a lot because anyone who is willing and able to help you will know how. But the incentive and energy to find your own path is only inside you – in the same soul that ghosts fear to enter because they might be consumed by the passion it holds. You haven’t tapped into all your energy yet, but when you start down the path that is truly right for you, you will. Then you’ll know you’re on the right track, even if the outcome isn’t always in your favor.”
Wind embraced me suddenly and I was taken aback. I didn’t know exactly what I’d said, or if I believed myself. The words just came pouring out. I’d have to consider them later because I didn’t think they would have occurred to me if I was on my own. Wind pulled those words from me and maybe they were what he needed to hear. It had happened to me a lot, all over the world. Every person had drawn a different Daniel from me. Sometimes I used words that weren’t ones I uttered often; sometimes I recalled memories I didn’t know I had. Every time I thought I was starting to understand myself, I found out something new and was reminded that this journey is endless.
January 18
Koh Phangan.
I walked down the main street towards the pier, checking out the coffee shops and looking for something my followers would find inspirational. It was a relief to be in a place I’d never been to before and – as far as I knew – neither had Amit. The truth is, Amit did me a favor by avoiding social media. I didn’t worry about his picture popping up or about blocking him if it got too hard.
I stopped outside a café that looked inviting – maybe because it looked a bit like a Starbucks. How had I ended up on an island without a Starbucks?! Well, maybe a little withdrawal would be good for me. It was only 10:00 a.m., but the place was already filling up with coffee drinkers hunched over their laptops. I could tell at a glance why it was popular. It was crammed with upholstered chairs and comfortable armchairs and the atmosphere was quiet and laid back. A young woman in her twenties, way too cheerful for that early in the morning, asked for my order. She kept smiling as I looked at the menu and the pastries in the glass case. I settled on an iced latte and a red macaron. Yes, they had macarons! She even asked for my name, just like in… oh, alright, Starbucks. I took a video of the place while I waited for my order. I’d write something later.The place was too quiet for me to talk while I filmed. I sat in an armchair and watched some reels on Instagram. For some reason they were all about dogs behaving weirdly – hilarious. I was stifling a laugh when a voice behind me said “Amit,” and I looked up fast. A bald guy was telling the smiling barista his name. She wasn’t getting it, so he repeated, “Ami, A-M-I.” She wrote the name on a cup and went off to prepare the drink. Amit had been right. You need to have a special name just for situations like these. I stopped thinking about dogs. I’d tried so hard to suppress myneed to see him but, in a split second, it hit me full force. And in another split second it turned into bitter disappointment. The familiar lump appeared in my throat and I needed to be alone. I took off before anyone could stare at me or ask if I was okay.
I headed back to my hotel, fast, trying to distract myself so that the lump in throat would subside.Amit’s brown eyes looked at me through his attractive glasses.It wasn’t working, so I stopped at a notice board plastered with ads for retreats, walking meditation, all sort of holistic and spiritual methods that were meant to heal the soul.I don’t think I ever told him that his dimples make me weak in the knees, and they always will.The here-and-now dueled with flashbacks in my mind.That moment on Patong Beach when we were the only people in the universe.I wonder how many people respond to these ads.His flushed cheeks, gecko in hand. I felt I’d stumbled over a treasure.One ad for a place called Legendary was offering Vipassana meditation for 10 days!The moment he opened up and told me about his life. All I wanted to do was hold him forever so that nothing could ever hurt him again.Legendary. I didn’t imagine that the secret to a legendary life could be found there, but what I needed was someone to tell me what I needed to do to have one.The moment in his apartment when…
Thinking about those ads helped me keep it together until I got back to the hotel. I lay on the bed and turned on Netflix. I actively ignoredThe Alchemist, the book Amit had bought for me. I’m not a book person. I never understood why anyone would read when they could just watch something – less effort and less time. I looked for a comedy to lighten my mood. Damn you, Amit, I thought. Millions of hours on social media hadn’t depressed me like this. I settled on “How I met your mother.” What a coincidence – one of characters has a favorite word: legendary. When I first watched the show when I was 15, every episode made me laugh like crazy. But just before I decided tobecome a nomad, I watched it again and it seemed more like a drama than a comedy. The main character, Ted, is a tragic hero whose life in New York was almost as bad as mine.
I hit play and the last episode of the fifth season came on. This was the last episode I had seen before going to Thailand and it came back to me slowly. Lily and Marshall are hunting for a sign from the universe to help them decide whether to get pregnant. Hunting? More like trying to coerce everything into such a sign, because it’s clear what they want. I turned off the TV. The show hadn’t distracted me. The opposite actually; it made me think. Amit was always seeing signs about us, and I brushed them off. He wanted to see them – those coincidences. I was scared, so I ignored them. I saw that this hurt him, and I did nothing about it. I wouldn’t commit to a common fate. Now I wondered what signs I had missed, right under my nose. I was sick of ignoring signs. From then on, I was going to say yes to everything the universe offered me. What synchronicities had I missed? I thought about it for a second and then I got it. Ah, shit.
January 20
Legendary
The green sign on the gate made it clear that I’d found the place. It didn’t look like the stuff of legends – just a bamboo gate and fence around what looked like a big property. I imagined it must reach the ocean on the far side.
The phone call had made me a bit nervous and I went in hesitantly. The woman had said that a new group was opening today, but that not everybody who expressed interest was accepted. She told me I’d have to sign a form saying that I didn’t have emotional or physical illnesses and that I wasn’t in a spiritual crisis. I’m notinone – Iama walking crisis from A to Z, but I didn’t tell her that. She said that Vipassana meditation was not meant to heal emotional crises, but to teach us through personal experience the most fundamental insights about life and human existence and, in this way, give us tools to deal with crises that may arise. To me it sounded like they were covering their asses in case someone sued them. The truth is, though, I hadn’t really researched what I was getting into. Maybe they were going to flog me raw so that I’d learn to deal with crises. I did go willingly, part of my commitment to saying yes to everything fate offered, no matter what.
“Hello!” a smiling petite woman in her sixties welcomed me. She looked western, with spiky greying hair that suited her. I tried, but failed, to see the terrifying witch in her.
“Hi. I’m Daniel.”
“Ah, Daniel. We spoke on the phone. I’m Mia. How are you?”
