Chapter 11: Walking Through Walls
A Journey of Addiction, Healing, and Rediscovery
Day Eleven: Tuesday August 26th, 2003
Woke up in a trance like state at 5.15am, very similar to the meditation. I left a dream of me and my wife. We were looking at a monitor of our baby and marvelling at how beautiful it was, when out of nowhere the doctor pointed to a small black mark moving towards it. I know what this means.
Last night at about midnight, K and I stayed up talking for ages and it was damn good quality time without mindless interruptions from anything or anyone. When we decided to leave to return to our room, he suggested walking up the spiral staircase to the top of one of the temples. We walked up for a good two minutes and, upon reaching the top, I had never seen a more beautiful view of the monastery grounds. There were few lights that artificially lit the scene; mainly, it was starlight. It was incredible to see. We walked around the rooftop for about 20 minutes and really had a good rapport by the end of our little trip off the compound.
When we got back to the room, it was the first time I actually felt like going to bed and the whole room just sort of sent me the message: ”Bed Time”. Then Phra Jan came out and told me I may have to leave in the morning because we had walked off the grounds. At first it really pissed me and K off because Phra Jan did look at us suspiciously, as if we had been up to no good. As a result, I was flung back into the reality of “Of course I’m not going tomorrow” and the paranoia of “Oh no, I’ve fucked it up, I’ve got to go, everyone will be disappointed etc…”. It was a hard night and I was in and out of sleep until 5am when we had to get up for sweeping.
I am now a little clearer about it. I recognise that Phra Jan has a hard job to do and I would not like to look after a bunch of scallywags like us, but I’m just annoyed that it set off my paranoia again. To reverse that and make a negative a positive, I would say that it was a test and that I still have to ignore outside influence and choose not to get into a state about it. I also did not take into account that if the Thai patients leave the grounds, they are asked to leave or are kept in a room where they are safe and always taken care of, but not allowed to leave when they want to. It must seem unfair to them that us foreigners have so much freedom.
On a cyclic level, I compare all of this to getting thrown out of the Rudolf Steiner School (or ‘asked to leave’ as it was called then). I was given rules that I did not agree with and went in search of a beautiful thing instead (My life as a musician with my band Jocasta), I’m not about to make that mistake again. 12 years older should be 12 years wiser. And besides, the view from the temple won’t go away. I can see it on my last day before I go back to England. Discipline. Nobody needs it more than me.
Had eggy bread with ketchup (followed by honey) for breakfast.
I reckon I’ve got to my cocky stage. The rebellion is rising. If I were back home now after 10 days being clean, I’d think I could handle taking drugs again. I know I obviously can’t handle it, but this is where I’m at. I’ve been clean for this long before, when I was in Spain. So now hopefully the next two weeks will hammer the final nails in the coffin. Because three weeks I ain’t gone without for years. I don’t want to start running before I can walk, I’ve done it before and I always land flat on my face.
I’ve just done some more work on my ‘tree bark’ song and it is so beautiful I find it hard to believe it’s real. I love that I am so impressed with a tune at this stage of creation and I have not even begun to use my computer and plugins on it.
There are not even any words yet and I’m playing a piece of music I’ve discovered that no one else has ever played or heard. I marvel at the intricacies of the notes and the way the mood wanders backward and forward. It’s of such musical delicacy that I wish I’d come up with it from my own head. If I heard it on a cd, I’d be jealous I had not written it and would get frustrated about not knowing how to achieve something that sounded so weird and wonderful. And it’s come from a tree! This is so cool.
I probably had the best day yet, mainly because of the music, but my time in the sajja temple during meditation was incredible. I think there’s something special about the temple, and what I like most about this realisation is that it tells me that ‘situation’ or ‘location’ can be so important with regards to how one is feeling on a day to day basis.
It’s the first ammunition I need to start breaking my ties with Soho. I still want to not need it so much, and if I can’t peacefully meditate when I get back, I know I’ll face a critical decision. It sounds silly but I really am that attached to Soho. After starting the meditation, I found it so easy to slip into that trance like state and I know I was visited by some sort of spirit. It was easy to get there again and learn to focus better.
After this I made a delicious Penne Arrabiata and a salad. My monk style meal a day has gone out the window, but I am being more mindful of what and when I’m eating (and I’m chewing more too). I arrange with Phra Jan to go to the sauna early so I can go to the Magsaysay Temple for the evening chanting.
This time, I sing along for the whole half an hour, non-stop, mimicking all the vowels almost exactly and guessing the odd consonant when I can hear well enough. The chant they do is forbidden to all non-monks, but no one notices that I am joining in because I am that much of a nano-second behind time that it just blends in. I do feel self-conscious as the only patient in a temple full of 90 robed monks and 20 nuns!
The chanting is a real reward. I shit you not, my hands were buzzing like a rushing gentle flame that was flickering from my every pore. My feet were also tingling like mad. It might not be of any significance, in fact it might just be the rigorous breathing you make at the intervals throughout the chant. It’s hard work to constantly sing for half an hour around the same 6 notes in a hundred different orders and only breathing every so often. Whatever the buzzy ‘light’ was, it made me feel so good.
I’ve generally been good all day, even to the extent of taking care of my appearance. Yesterday, I looked in a mirror for the first time since I’ve been here. I mean, it’s hard to really worry about the way you look when you eat, work and sleep in pyjamas. Anyway, I shaved, sorted out my teeth, and had my all my hair shaved off too!
I felt good again. Game of dominoes and I’m now going to bed. Can’t write any more, too tired to remember all the amazing things that keep happening. Goodnight.
I lied. I am still awake. I just got in a tis because the tape player that the monastery have let me use won’t play any tapes. So sue me for being a tech head, I mean, I’m somebody that’s been mainlining their laptop for the last 3 or 4 years. I know - I’m a sad bastard. Anyway, C has been an absolute gem and cleaned the tape heads for me because it’s been so long since I’ve used tape, I’d forgotten which bit to clean. I’ve just moved my bed in the room so the stereo reaches the plug and I’m now by the front window. I’m sitting outside listening to crickets and Reggae. Rocksteady. One fag. Litre of water. Top!
I’ve just been listening to Sinatra and Garland on the stereo and all my fond memories of being at home in Frith Street come flooding into my ears. Something to do with the sound, smell and taste of Italo-retro-vintage Soho just goes hand in hand with getting completely off my face. Soho is a cosy blanket made out of heavy chain mail.
I see how powerful a trap is once you’re in it. I’m not ready to leave Soho yet. I just couldn’t do it, but I’ll make a condition that if the shit creeps back in, I have got to be kicked out. It’s a beautiful home, hopefully a healthy mind can keep it that way.
I support these organisations who are shaping a system change to integrate mental health awareness and well-being into the music industry. Please do read about their work.
The Creative Well
Music Mind Matters
Waterbear College of Music