Diary of a journey to myself / The Seventh Insight

03.01., 08:30 a.m., on the veranda of our hotel

Sitting on the veranda of our beautiful guesthouse in a courtyard set back from the road among palm trees, flower pots, two narrow, elongated stone fountains with goldfish, above which flower baskets with orchids hang, reflecting in the water. It's still early and the sun is already shining warmly, making the gold-adorned pagoda top in the park next door, which is actually a cemetery, twinkle in the blue of the sky.

"I'll look for an ATM. We don't have enough cash. And I don't know if we can even withdraw money in Khong Lor. Enjoy your coffee," and off he goes. Breakfast is not his thing, especially not when we're in a hurry, which is almost every day. On the other hand, I find it terrible when we don't have time for breakfast. The food is not so important to me, but the coffee. There's a scene in another favorite movie "Almost Famous" where 5 or 6 groupies of a band and the protagonist, a young music journalist, wake up in a hotel room after a night of partying, one of the girls with a ponytail lying in bed and passionately moaning the word Cafeeeeeeee to the main character.

I think about that a lot in the morning during vacation because I can relate to it so much. But we didn't party all night, although I feel a bit like it. Relaxed, my gaze wanders between my coffee and the fruit plate with fresh papaya, pineapple, and banana slices, to the stone figures scattered throughout the garden, the wooden temple in front of the entrance door, and the many flowers that shine especially beautifully in purple, red, and violet in the morning sun. And there he is, coming around the corner again. "That was quick. We can sit here a bit longer together," I beam at him hopefully. "I'll just pay first. We don't have much time left. The taxi will arrive in 10 minutes," he replies a bit tense. I'm totally used to that too and it doesn't bother me at all. It would be nicer if he weren't always so tense before we leave, but I'm not exactly the calmest person when something makes me nervous. And since he manages all our travels while I don't really care about it, he's always a bit nervous about whether everything will work out as planned. That he manages everything alone is an implicit agreement between us.

He loves organizing our trip and I somehow don't have the inclination to do it, neither at home nor on the road. I prefer to just observe people while he studies and pulls out the Lonely Planet for hours on end. But everything fits perfectly like this. "That's fine, honey. I'll start packing the bag," I say, and he raises his eyebrows and gives me a suspicious look. "What's going on with you? Normally you complain when I tell you we don't have enough time anymore,"

"Well, I had my coffee and besides, I love you". He makes a face as if I had just told him I organized concert tickets for Slayer. Completely surprised, incredulous, but totally happy.

Insight No. 7:

What I perceive externally and how I react to it always seems to be connected to my inner attitude. As within, so without.