Boundless – 1st December 2022

Our fear of death is negated by our fear of living
Buried underground with our fear of breathing
Miracles abound and they never stop giving
But our closed doors of perception have stopped receiving


Imagining differences is part of the madness of groups.

Robert Greene

Today I’m feeling:
Happy but then lethargic after two cocktails with late lunch
Today I’m grateful for:
Having spare pots around to transfer a cactus that kept falling over. I’m quite proud I’ve managed to keep some of them alive since Amy has been away. This one is a hardy one that had got too tall and unwieldy.
The best thing about today was:
Talking, playing and having fun with all different students. It’s starting to feel familiar for all of us now.
What was out of your control today and how did you handle it?
Another class today straggled in late but this time I just went with the flow, knowing that these kids wouldn’t react so maturely as the ones yesterday. It got them in the right mood to do my work and to be happily pushed along
What cities do you want to visit?
All of them. Why not!? I’m trying to think of a city I wouldn’t want to visit…

I took this picture because Goya was in a lively and artistic mood and apparently this is a drawing of me… She captured my shirt well! Goya is a smart kid but also a bit of a handful.

Drink to the present before it shall fail – 24th February 2020

It was a weekend of dying. In the morning, Kimi, my great friend in Kuala Lumpur passed away at the too young age of 36. In the afternoon our neighbour’s grandfather passed away at the ripe old age of 90.

My one aim in life was to live longer than my father, something which I managed to surpass in the last year or so. My father died when I was just 18 months old; lung cancer, after a lifetime of being advertised to the health benefits of smoking. It’s difficult to gauge exactly what effect that event had on my life but it is surely significant. Death was a part of my life from the beginning.

One of my earliest memories is aged 4, sitting up in my bed, crying my eyes out, knowing that one day I would die. I couldn’t believe it. What was this thing called life all about if you just ended up dying?

Whilst I was sitting around crying for my friend far away, feeling useless, the neighbours were busy making preparations.

Could I get to KL to be with everyone? What kind of funeral ceremonies do my Muslim friends have? Are they celebrations of someone’s life or sombre occasions like in most of the west?

I’ve become somewhat familiar with Thai funerals unfortunately. Many of Amy’s family are at that age when funerals come along more often. I’m also getting to the age when more and more friends will leave too. And it will be my turn sooner than I’d like too.

In the smaller villages of Thailand it is still traditional to keep the body in the home for around 5 days before cremation. I’m not sure about burial here. All the funerals I have attended have been cremations and the only places I have seen graves are for people with Chinese backgrounds. I think burial should only really be used if a tree is planted along with the body which I know has started to become more popular in some places and seems to make a lot of environmental sense.

Gatherings, food, prayers and respects are shown by visitors to the home, from relatives and the local residents. Family spread out all over the country will drive back to attend. As this grandfather was 90 years old and his family have lived in the village his whole life it was due to be a big turnout. So big that local farmers where hired to clear the jungle land opposite our house to make an impromptu car park. There were some big rats living in there that were quickly grabbed by the locals and I don’t want to guess what for.

Huge gazebos were erected, a PA system bigger than Motorhead (every house seems to own huge PAs – even worse when combined with their Karaoke machines!) Each night for 5 nights, crowds would gather, monks would chant, food would be served until on the final day a huge silver decorated cart would take the body off to the crematorium, followed by everyone as it spiralled through the village.

I sat through an hour or so each night of chanting and it was quite meditative and mesmerising, especially as I was often lost in thought for my friend Kimi. I then struggled through another night of a chief monk talking. I didn’t struggle with his words, though I didn’t understand anything, it was the crappy plastic chairs playing havoc with my back and posture. The monk was hilarious, the crowd often erupting into laughter and I could feel the ease within everyone. He even joked about me and was sad that I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Of course the whole crowd turned to look at me. I think I’m just know locally as ‘that farang’ who lives here. Amy translated a lot for me so I got some of the fun. At the end the monk opened up his homemade accoutrements to make a little extra cash. People gotta eat I guess.

In contrast, I finally heard what happened to Kimi and discovered that Muslim tradition requires the body to be buried as quickly as possible. I don’t know what kind of ceremonies happen around that and I’m guessing not everyone in his family would have been able to attend this.

Kimi had been finalising some concerts for some European bands and the Kuala Lumpur concert will happen this coming weekend. I will fly down to meet Kimi’s wife and all our mutual friends. I will treat the concert somewhat as a memorial to my great friend.

These coincident deaths have obviously brought sharply into focus thoughts around death but as I wrote last time, these thoughts are still confusing. I’m still processing it all.

I’m very grateful to have made friends with Kimi 12 years ago and to have felt such a connection that we remained in contact over this time, worked together often and I visited him many times and he always showed me his big heart; giving me excruciating massages, taking me jungle river swimming and one time directing me into the ocean filled with jellyfish – a story that is repeated for everyone on every visit. He didn’t piss on my jellyfish sting but I know he would’ve if I had asked him.

23 years, 26 years, 52 years, 90 years. It’s not enough for anyone. Soon, all our names will be forgotten, let’s remember whilst we can.

Come hither, my lads, with your tankards of ale,
And drink to the present before it shall fail;
Pile each on your platters a mountain of beef,
For ’tis eating and drinking that bring us relief:
So fill up your glass, For life will soon pass;
When you’re dead ye’ll ne’er drink to your king or your lass!
Anacreon had a red nose, so they say
But what’s a red nose if ye’re happy and gay?
Gad split me! I’d rather be red whilst I’m here,
Than white as a lily and dead half a year!
So Betty my miss, Come give me a kiss;
In hell there’s no inkeeper’s daughter like this!
Young Harry, propp’d up just as straight as he’s able,
Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table,
But fill up your goblets and pass ’em around
Better under the table than under the ground!
So revel and chaff As ye thirstily quaff:
Under six feet of dirt ’tis less easy to laugh!
The fiend strike me blue! I’m scarce able to walk,
And damn me if I can’t stand upright or talk!
Here, landlord, bid Betty to summon a chair;
I’ll try home for a while, for my wife is not there!
So lend me a hand I’m not able to stand
But I’m gay whilst I linger on top of the land!

Drinking Song from the “Tomb” by Rudimentary Peni
Salut!

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful for the people I know, my acquaintances. Their part in my life is small but still valuable.

To-do list

  • More contemplating death videos (and contemplate) ½
  • Write blog post ✅
  • What do you want to WOOP?
  • Clear emails ½
  • Finish TCRAH 28 and WDS spreadsheet ½

I lost my cool again this morning when Joe sent me a message that the school had complained about me but he didn’t say exactly what. I was a bit shocked and could only guess it was Jimmy who sent the complaint. I tried to stay calm but the anger and upset overwhelmed me very quickly.

I was smart enough to send messages to Amy and George in the hope of a swift reply with some encouragement. Unfortunately, they didn’t get to me in time before talking with Kru Tam and I had to cut that short cos I could feel myself about to cry. I felt disappointed that I did that.

I’ve kept telling myself to stop and wait before talking but I can’t tell myself when I’m in the middle of these fits.

George calmed me down a little with some humour and Amy really calmed me later too. Luckily before I did anything stupid.

Later I also found out what the complaints were actually about but they were so silly that I had to ask what it was all really about. Joe (at TLC) replied that someone there obviously doesn’t like me and it’s stirring things up.

There are too many stupid people in the world. I know I’m probably one too. It can really get you down. But everyone actually made me feel pretty happy by the middle of the morning so that I actually felt pretty proud of myself that I had actually handled things pretty well. Just that I want to not even reach the point of anger and upset at all.

The rest of the week is very easy teaching wise so I’ll relax a little and see what tasks I can accomplish in my spare time.

Father, maternal grandfather, mother “centre of my orbit”, henry st. clair he was my friend, two-gun bob, auntie and me – 21st February 2020

Main image – Chris Neate

The cacophony of modern life also stops us from listening. The acoustics in restaurants can make it difficult, if not impossible, for diners to clearly hear one another. Offices with an open design ensure every keyboard click, telephone call and after-lunch belch make for constant racket. Traffic noise on city streets, music playing in shops and the bean grinder at your favourite coffeehouse exceed the volume of normal conversation by as much as 30 decibels, and can even cause hearing loss.

Kate Murphy (New York Times, Talk Less, Listen More)

First, please quiet the noise in my head.

The events of this past week have put me in a spin. Even as the sadness recedes somewhat, images pop up randomly, memories flicker; a pre-tear feeling appears in my chest and throat but is soon countered by my rationality and tucked back away.

While my mind wanders less there is a lack of clarity around my thoughts. A directionless, purposeless meandering. This is a different feeling to the one I was experiencing previously. Where I could sit in my class and concentrate with students running, shouting and screaming. Now it drives me crazy.

Image: Nick Blinko

All this adds up to limit my engagement, to cloud my listening ability. I can hear but I’m not listening.

Listening is a difficult skill to master. Made even more complicated by the sound-byte outrages of social media culture. I don’t feel that I have ever been able to listen properly. I want to practice the quietening of my own thoughts and be more fully engaged, whether in conversation, in watching videos and movies and to attempt that euphoric emotion when really listening to music.

I keep reminding myself to talk less, to shut up a little. Not to jump into what I want to say, to make my point or to win the argument. Just listen. And think.

Damn, this was hard to write today. It’s probably reflected in the scattered approach and execution. But every day I accept the challenge. Put words down on paper. Get thoughts out. Think, until clarity.

Hello and welcome to inconclusive arguments in today’s conference we have a psychologist, a guru, an athlete, a freak, a scientist, a dictator, an anarchist, a mass murderer, a composer, a human vegetable, and a complete outsider. let’s open the discussion with you, er huh what gives? that look of revelation on the athlete’s face – the complete outsider is the centre of attention – just what is the human vegetable doing to the psychologist, the freak is eating the mass murderer, o my god terrifying vistas of reality and our position therein are being opened up to us all, this is the worst thing that’s happened to mankind and in the studio they’ve opted for a new dark age but your commentator has gone stark staring mad.

New Dark Age by Rudimentary Peni

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful to have put myself on a better path. It’s a struggle but it will be worth it.

To-do list

  • Speak less – listen more – do not complain ½
  • Write a blog post ✅
  • Check George’s lesson plan again ✅
  • Do body scan and breathing concentration ½
  • WOOP ✅

A slightly disrupted day lessons-wise but at least it meant I only really taught one lesson so it was very easy.

I took some time to read before we went out for dinner and then later meeting Bee and George. Had a few drinks together but got the feeling that everyone was a little too tired to really relax and fully enjoy the night. I, myself, really struggled to get some thoughts out on the blog and I was writing about how confusing and unclear my thinking has been since Kimi passed.

I also started reading more about the Stoic contemplation of death which is something more on my mind now.

And now, slightly hungover, it’s a little difficult to find words.

Today I will attempt to remind myself that I may die tonight in an effort to push myself back into the moment.

I lost my membership card to the human race – 17th February 2020

It’s amazing how one emotional event can soon be overshadowed by a larger one therefore putting the first into more perspective. On Friday I fought for what I believed and ended up in a cloud of destructive self doubt. On Saturday it all became irrelevant.

I try to clear my mind. Breathe in and breathe out. Focus on it. Thoughts come charging, running across my imagination. Focus. Re-focus. But they come too quickly, from all sides. Emotions rising from my belly, adding to the darkness inside.

I started writing a diary in 1994 after my best friend Steve Burgess passed away aged only 23. I kept that up for the year that saw me move from England to Australia. I continued writing bits and pieces over the years and then in 2018 I decided to start this blog and document another transition moving from Australia to Thailand. The final move date was decided by my mother’s passing in February 2019.

Now I have to write again about another best friend passing away, this time not significant of anything. Just another Saturday. He was 36 years old.

I’m shocked and devastated. I don’t have many people I would consider as close friends and now another has gone. Rationally I know it happens, it happens to everyone. Everyone you know will be gone. Everyone you love. But I’m not feeling rational again yet. Just let me be like this for a while. I’ll be ok.

I love you Kimi.

I’m starting to see why people find comfort in religion. Their faith counters our natural fear of death. If it all boils down, that is all it is. And that’s fine. I have to learn to deal with my fear of death by living now. The fear of death should make us happy.

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful that I have the chance to make another day count.

To-do list

  • Passwords for Amy ✅
  • Investigate emotional control ½
  • Be nice to people you don’t like
  • Go to gym after work
  • Look at G’s lesson plans ✅

I got through school today in a bit of a blur but it was OK. Asikin messaged me and told me how Kimi died and I decided to go and visit in a couple of weeks time.

I’m thinking a little differently about teaching now and trying not to let the kids bother me. If they don’t want to learn, then forget about it. I’ll try my best but I will try not to let them affect me.

Tomorrow I will try to read more about emotional control – what I read today was OK but a bit superficial. My self-control was tested with the kids but I didn’t lose it, even though I sometimes had to raise my voice to be heard.

I learned today that bad feelings don’t have to last a long time and I can make the choice about it.