Chapter 24: Walking Through Walls
A Journey of Addiction, Music, Healing, and Rediscovery
Day 25: - Tuesday, September 9th, 2003
(Written at the airport in Bangkok)
Sitting on the porch outside, we talked until sunrise in each other’s broken languages without a break. It’s easy to think two people who can’t speak each other’s language have no way to understand each other. But I find that, by taking a long time to convey meanings accurately, with focus on tone and facial expressions, we understood each other better than most people who do speak the same language.
With a language barrier, you take extra care with what you are saying and hearing.
Like the last three weeks, it all felt very magical. As if the connection might grow into a deeper relationship. Who knows. If it really was magic, it will wait until I return to Thailand. I promised her I’d weave the chanting I recorded of her into a new song that I’ve started writing (with Luang Por’s lyrics). It could be a nice way of all three of us being in the same song. I’m thinking of starting with a sample loop of her voice.
Finally, I went to say my goodbye to Luang Por and give him my farewell card. We met in the exact same spot that he and Chi Ying taught me their incredible way of making music from the Earth, only two weeks ago.
After everything that’s happened during my stay, it was impossible to know what to say to him. Miss Rambhai laughed, amused to see me lost for words (for a change).
I said I would talk to my mother and see if she could remember anything that might help me find my father. Luang Por told me to take my time, but to do whatever I could to find him. He also said that he and the community would help me if I choose to come back to the monastery.
He then made a request. He asked if I would go to Stonehenge and trace the lines of the stones there, so that he could hear the music. He said that he knows the music is particularly powerful in those stones, and that he had always dreamt of being able to go there and make the tracings himself. As a monk, he is only permitted to travel by foot, so he could never go to Stonehenge, a place he calls ‘the airport of the souls’.
Of course I accepted his request. I have a lot of karma to repay! I’m also quite excited at the thought of doing Laisen at Stonehenge. But what really strikes me is the weirdness of me reconnecting with my druidic/Celtic beginnings, 7000 miles away from England! Talking to a wise Buddhist leader about Stonehenge in Thailand is all I need to tell me that I need to re-embrace those studies that I left behind in my teens.
In a way, the monks at Thamkrabok ARE druids. They are in tune with the moon phases and everything they do is in harmony with nature. Especially their way of making music.
He said that if I wanted to come back to the Monastery, a room would be made ready for me, free of charge, so I could make my album whilst continuing to recover.
I feel so grateful, but also relieved. The last thing I want to do after this is go back to my bedsit in Soho to keep looking out the window every night at Ronnie Scott’s, hopelessly dreaming of playing there one day. Back on Jobseekers, back on housing benefit, borrowing money to feed the cat, falling back into the downward spiral…
I do feel stronger now, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough to face all those record labels and managers who can’t or won’t help me. I don’t believe I’m as worthless as they’ve made me feel now. But I don’t want to test it. I just want to look after myself.
Luang na Tong, (the high monk who gave me the book on Laisen) must have seen I had a tear in my eye as I got up to leave. He patted me on the shoulder and said
“You come back to Thamkrabok. Can! You have home here”
I wonder if he learnt the English words especially to say that to me. I wanted to give him a huge hug but I know you can’t make physical contact with monks. I cupped my hands in prayer and said thank you in Thai, but it just didn’t seem enough. I feel like giving them all so much more than I am able to give. Or may ever be able to give. I photo-printed his smile into my brain as I grabbed my bag and guitar, and got into the car with Geng, who drove me to the airport, just as he had picked me up.
I feel as if I am saying goodbye to a new family. Luang Por, Miss Rambhai, Phra Hans, Natalie and Chan and, a new friend. I will miss them all a great deal. But no matter how much I dream of being able to come back to them all again, I know I need to be happy with what I feel now and try and stop worrying about the future. As it is, the prospect of coming back here looks like an impossibility. I have no job, no savings, no home or support network to go back to in London. I’m taking a deeper breath on the trip back to London than I had to take to come to Thailand. I just want to stay here.
It’s as if the whole time I’ve been here, some invisible guardian angel has been carrying me through it all, someone older and wiser, but who really knows me, helping me make each new step forward. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.
Thamkrabok has been a life book of lessons. Some easy, some hard, but all essential.
The fact that I have something to fight for other than my own personal goals is a miracle. Artists are, in a way, born selfish I suppose. I don’t think I’m a particularly good person. But the music that comes from me or through me, is good.
A flash of faces of everyone I know back in London suddenly makes me feel quite scared. It seems quite harsh in comparison to Thamkrabok, where everyone is so gentle and not criticising all the time. I'm praying I can hold ono the gentleness.
Although it’s early days and I’m not sure how well I will do, I know much more about giving and sharing now. I’ll just have to be mindful of how selfish I am as I go along.
I’ll make mistakes. I know I will. But knowing what giving and sharing feels like (and looks like), is a step in the right direction. The biggest and most valuable lesson I’ve learned here though, is seeing what it’s like to be treated well. When I think about the way I’ve been treated in the past, and the way I have treated others, I feel hugely uneducated and unaware. In Thamkrabok, treatment is kind, respectful and loving.
As for my album, I’m curious to see how I can integrate what I’ve learnt here into my music. And sure, I’d still love to have that hit record, but I know that I have the strength not to collapse if it doesn’t happen. I want to focus on getting more people to benefit from the experience I have had here. It felt good to help some of the patients in the treatment centre. I am not going back to chase my tail in the music industry. Going round in circles is a sure way to live and never learn. I just need to keep making music, because it’s in my DNA, regardless of this strange industry that feels like an abusive relationship. I don’t want to be a victim anymore. I want to return to my 14 year old self of dreams, spells and druidry!
There’s a lot of work to do, and I have to think seriously about looking for my father.
But what I have realised is that I am not the addict I thought I was. Whatever is wrong with me is bigger than drugs. More than any other reason, I think that’s why I want to come back to Thamkrabok. To find out what is, and has always been broken inside.
I am an addict of learning and creating, and those are the only fixes I want to look for now.
What I have to do immediately is make the best album I’ve ever made. I don’t want all these songs to end up on my shelf with all the others. I have to make this album real. Not for a record company or a career, or approval, but for myself and for the spirit of music itself. The one friend that has never, ever left my side. I know it won’t be easy, but it’s not meant to be easy is it? Like everything in life, it’s just meant to be.
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