By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
There was gold glistening all around me. The statute of Buddha big and majestic looking down upon me as I wondered if there was any power or influence in his hands... I walked to his altar, kneeled and bent at the waist. I whispered, “If there’s any authority in you whatsoever grant me peace. Please. Grant me peace.” I laid my hands flat and had my forehead touch the floor three times the way I had seen the locals around me praying. I rose to my feet and was immediately captivated by a line of people dragging their knees slowly but surely reach a monk who had a large ball of white yarn in his possession. I saw as he would unwind the yarn to tie around the next devout’s first with impeccable precision. I became increasingly curious. First because I had never seen a monk this close in real life. And secondly because I wanted to know what the white yarn symbolized. I walked over beside the line of people waiting their turn just 20 ft away from the monk. I too kneeled as my hands came together in a praying motion. I sat there in silence as I saw him tie strings one after another. I don’t know what I was expecting or what kind of dramatic scene I thought would happen but I remained kneeling for what seemed like hours. So much so that my legs had gone numb from sitting back on them but still I refused to move. After the last person had received their string I was the only one left. The monk looked over at me with his large kind eyes and asked “Are you looking for something?” Looking back in retrospect he probably meant “Are you looking for something?” as in “do you need something? Cause you’ve been sitting there for hours and you’re kind of starting to freak me out?” But when he asked me if I was looking for something my mind traveled to a different universe completely. Perhaps it was the orange robe, the fact that I was on the other side of the world heartbroken, or the kind tone in his voice that turned a question that could’ve been answered with “yes I’ve misplaced my glasses. Or I seem to have lost my keys” to a much deeper philosophical ideation. You see when he asked me “Are you looking for something?” I responded with “What is the purpose of this life?” There was silence for a second before he responded “To learn to let go.” Bowed his head and walked away. I only bowed my head in response and stayed kneeling knowing that any movement in that moment would’ve resulted in a waterfall of tears that would probably never stop. I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat and bent at the waist again almost kissing the floor as if that would stop the tears from flowing the way you fold a hose in order to stop the water from running. I had become a master at breaking my own heart by holding on to people, moments, and emotions for too long. Whether good or bad I was never good at letting go and see the problem with that is that even when you hold on to good memories of feelings for longer than they’re meant to stick around good moments become missed moments and missed moments cause sorrow. Inevitable suffering. But Thailand had taught me that saying goodbye didn’t always have to be bad. It taught me that saying goodbye could be beautiful and necessary. So I said good bye to the land of smiles my last day there the same way she had now taught me to live. With a smile on my face and gratitude on my heart. Never afraid of new hellos and always ready for the next goodbye.