Altering The Mind

The person I am yet to speak of is one who has become comfortable with change; he accepts, adapts, and seeks change. Whether it be from the daily routine or quitting a long working commitment, switching off the robotic mode allows one to remain aware of what is happening real-time: now. When things become too comfortable one begins to develop distractions from the mundane. Unnecessary dramas being more prevalent in a social atmosphere, including gossip, put-downs, physical and mental aggressions... Who hasn't heard someone who speaks about another loudly but indirectly? Is the key focus to develop the muscles of the jaw? If one feels he could not say such things to another directly, it is an act of cowardice; a cry for change from the mundane. He is one who wants his own experience, but only tempts the idea. Let his curiosity build up without engaging in the aggression. He will better learn to make a change from leadership, rather than dictation or a total disengage.

Chats

Deal with things instantly,.Do you need time to dance around what needs to be said? Two people will benefit from an interaction that has substance, where the normal etiquette is either forgotten or passed over quickly if there has not been connection or respect. Man takes his fellow man that believes in what he says seriously, and can recognize when emotions are involved creating illogical conversation based on opinion, cognitive dissonance, and lack of experience. When uncontrolled emotions are tied to past experiences, the reality becomes biased. Without enough conscious attention spent on now, one may create mental edits to past experiences. If several people are engaged in conversation, each reality is based on ones respect for his fellow man. If each member has equal respect, everyone feels comfortable listening to what each person has to say, as one who has such respects knows he can learn from every interaction he encounters. Learning from every encounter at the exact moment, without mental clutter or emotional filters allows one to dive into the truths of the universe. While acquaintances are acquired with memories of previous interactions, these do not create friendships, they place mental expediencies on future converse, therefore adding another distraction to the now and unfulfilled expectations. Real friendships develop when what one has an impulse that becomes necessary to say and a mutual belief comes about. One cannot hope to be liked by everyone, and being "nice"will not lead a conversation anywhere. Being nice doesn't involve flattery or silence when one withholds an impulse to say something that may benefit all parties. With concentration on the now, the emotions presented are easily managed, which allows for the very attractive trait of subtle wit and objective reasoning. 

Khao San Road is no longer for me.

I just left Nepal, and one thing really sticks in my mind from my second visit: whilst going over the usual traveller chatter the question was brought up of who'd been or who was going to India. I had previously spent time, and cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone. So, as I was spreading my love for the country, a friend had mentioned that he had no intentions of going to India. Why? There are too many terrible things one could see. While there are some disturbing sights, these terrible things will continue to go on whether or not you decide to expose yourself to the realities. Good and bad only exist together. Without comparison, what would we have? Simply what is now. The weather, for example, is the silliest thing to discuss. There is no good or bad weather. I feel quite ridiculous that I need to say this, but a little piece of me dies when people waste time talking of such Tom-foolery.

"i'm trying to sleep, quit smiling" i say

the folds of her cheek forming my face

i lie discontent, holding back a beam.

This I will miss.

Merci.

In this world I have the power to change locations at will. Teleporting back and forth to deciduous treed environments and having one-sided conversations; they are so rapid I can barely process what is said or seen. Responding is out of the question. In fact it doesn't follow our known laws of nature; I'm only here to listen. The faces begin to fade and shift into the backs of heads, slowly moving out of my vision and disappearing through an invisible portal. One by one, each contact makes its departure as I am disturbed from my slumber. I notice where I am, each ankle and wrist fastened to the table with Velcro. A slight pain begins in my left forearm begging me to rip free from my constraints. I choke out a few voluntary and involuntary curses, to let someone know I'm feeling pain. “Don’t move, only two more minutes.” I couldn't tell if the doctor noticed he was resting his elbow just above the boa constrictor wrapped around my bicep to let them know that: yes, somehow the blood is still flowing through that arm. What it failed to tell them was nothing a few one syllable words couldn't convey mixed with a bit of wriggling about. Still blindfolded so not to freak out from all the blood pouring out my ear, I felt a familiar touch at my hand; a few fingers followed with a loving grasp. My heart rate stopped if not only for a moment, and slowed to a comfortable rate. I hear the doctor’s words once more along with a set of hands massaging the blood through my arm. I push through the next half an hour with the caring hand ready to comfort me throughout the rest of the procedure, triggered by my lovely one syllable sounds or by the doctor’s word that this time it really will only be another two minutes. Was it really you, did you convince them to let you put on scrubs and make sure I was okay?

Happy Birthday!

The dancing is completely you, with no hint of embarrassment or fear; the quirky way you say delicious, as though you can taste something’s beauty; your pure passion for photography, and with it the keen eye that has given you true sight; your trusting, glowing eyes that are not afraid to keep a locked gaze; your gung-ho tomboy attitude mixed with the cuteness only a woman could possess. This is you, and this is why you are beautiful.

What is holding us back to our full potential? Fear. Don’t get me wrong, fear does have its benefits. When old mate gets eaten by a wolf because he gets too close to mums pup, there is a use for fear. Falling off of a balcony may add to your caution around heights. These are what we have adopted to ensure survival, and some of these genes get wiped out; natural selection at its finest. Everything has become much simpler now. In suburbia you don’t have to worry about a wolf who forgot to pack a lunch waiting for the morning metro but there is a different kind of monster one must watch for. This is the power of our imagination. One thing we believe separates humans from all other creatures is that we can create multiple realities from one simple idea. They may very well be plausible realities, but you can’t tell unless you have first-hand experience. Now while this may seem very beneficial it does tend to backfire. I can’t count how many times on all of my fingers and toes my mind got in the way of what my heart really wanted. Wanting to go traveling but being constantly afraid by all the horrors a “3^rd world country” has in store. From dengue to dysentery, it can be quite easily avoided. Just don’t lick your flip-flop. The media has control over the masses with newspapers, advertisements, television, etc. so if one hasn’t educated oneself, they may be brainwashed with ideas of all the ways to die in Guatemala. New experiences = new opportunities = new ideas to develop in your mind brain.

We can learn safety measures without having to seriously compromise our wants and needs. How many of these fears are actually useful? Not many. We don’t say what we want to say because of the fear of the unknown. “The only regrets we will have on the death bed are the things we didn’t do.”  While there may be another life after this one, time shouldn’t be wasted worrying about consequences of all your actions. This is no ticket for hurting others, but remember you can’t make decisions for people, only suggestions.

http://youtu.be/5H1sqXNZkbE

I’ve worked my way down to Daman, where the beer flows like Niagra and is tax free. A little beach town in its own little state (like Goa and Delhi). Old Consuelo has had a few minor problems in the past couple of weeks, all of which seem to be easily fixed. Had a flat on the way to Ahmedabad with Ilona from Aus, but the tire wasn’t as deflated as the company. We waited around for 15 minutes at a rest stop with a chai and pani until a few very helpful lads decided that they could lend us a hand (they just needed to clear out all the “not possible” from their systems). Popped off the tire, borrowed a bike to the next town and was back on the road in 30 minutes. The luggage rack has been supporting 3 persons bags, so needed a bit of welding after hitting some of India’s many carefully hidden potholes. The riding has been much like being in the world’s largest street race where some people join in at random, snaking through the cars and trucks on the best road yet in India. Seriously though, I could maintain a steady speed for more than 2 minutes at a time.

The Veg Bandit

Leh has been my homebase now for around 2 weeks; I reckon it’s time to move on. The scenery of this area is like a fucking fairy tale or somethin’. After Allan went back for Australia, I right away joined in on Chey’s group, which I was never really keen on to be honest but I’m glad that I did. The group was incredibly diverse, and everybody played an important role. After a while it began to be a bit of a challenge to hold things together. Liam has a gung-ho attitude about keeping the group entertained and keeping up with it is all about banter and boosing, which I’m not against but  material started to become scarce after a 5 day bike trip. I was very impressed with Yael, an Israeli girl I talked with for only a brief moment atop the Stupa. Just before our departure to Nubra Valley, she casually invited herself for the ride. Old Consuelo is used to hauling a couple passengers, so she had no problem keeping up with Liam’s Lobsang, the bike that climbs mountains and saves lives. Even with all this stimulation in the past couple of weeks, I feel like I’ve been holding back a bit too much. Mein ego is getting in the way of my normal humanly function. I have been slacking on my self-improvement time and socially overloading.

Ali, Turtuk's mob boss posing as a weaver.

The garden I view from my peripherals is full of pinks and whites and yellows and violets, among carrots, eggplant-shaped radishes, cauliflower, and cabbage. One must be vigilant with shutting the gates to the guest house yard, not for the safety of the vetements hanging on the line, whereas in Turtuk nothing could be left unwatched as the children had sticky fingers, nor for the safety of the bikes parked in the driveway, but the ninja cows silently slipping through the gates to enjoy a fantastic garden salad. The highly worshipped beings have no authority over mum and old mum when the tell-tale sound of torn vegetation floats through the air. They’re armed with their “hiyahiya’s!” and canes, usually requiring a bit of assistance after having a few chuckles over the seriousness of the situation. I will miss the character that brings travelers back to this fairy tale. People do not try and rip you off, nobody hassles you to buy their shit, and the honking is at a minimum. The sound of Enfields become music to the ears and it becomes second nature to get along with the scorching hot sun and the freezing cold shade. Might I add it is now off season, maybe it’s chaos in the busy months?

A pretty high road pass with the left-leggers.