There is s a kind of cloudy haze that has settled over Phuket, the type of haze that blinds your view of the horizon and brings a premature end to a sunset, swallowing the blazing sun, like a bright orange smartie slipping slowly down one’s throat, whole. I look up in the middle of the day and can still see blue sky but as the day progresses, the haze increases and by late afternoon, I can barely distinguish the grey sea from the hazy horizon. The usually vibrant scenery is a glaring shade of dull. It is almost as if everything is stagnant, but not in a negative way.
Each day passes slowly. The sun rises, the sun sets, the moon rises and the moon sets and then the sun rises once more, repeating the daily routine. And every day, I watch the horizon, hoping that nature’s curtains don’t close early, allowing me, to once again, watch the sun set in its entirety.
My days are filled with nothing much but everything at the same time. I feel a contentment and peace I cannot remember ever knowing before. Not wanting to be anywhere else, not searching anxiously for something unknown. But at the same time I am wondering, what is on the horizon that I cannot yet clearly see?
Beneath my contentment is a subtle stirring reminding me not to get too comfortable. The world is calling to me in a way that I am still not wanting to hear clearly, just as I am not wanting to see, clearly, what is on the horizon. I am not wanting anything to change. I want to stay in these perfect days forever but life is drawing me forward, in a slow but certain way. Whilst I’m reluctant to move, I’m not resisting the flow, trusting that as I near the horizon, the haze will be replaced by beautiful clear light. In the meantime, I live each day with peace, patience and gratitude. Thankful to be in this place, in this space even with the haze all around.