Bending into Padahastasana, the energy courses through my legs. In sympathetic unison the crickets count the seconds away.
Listening to the drone of my teachers voice, I feel a gecko scurry over my toes to hunt for moths in the glare of the lights.
Looking up from my book, I see ochre tinged cliffs melting into the jungle below. Fork-tailed swallows flit through the skies chasing insects and cuddle on the roof, sharing chirps of intimacy.
Drifting in the pool, I strain to float effortlessly. Above me, in a haze of yellow and black butterflies, swarms of red dragonflies zigzag across the water.
Playing on the beach, we are joined by two young children. They howl in Thai as we skim a frisbee over their heads and laugh with unspoken pride when they pry the disk from the sky.
Hanging out in an empty pub, we make aimless conversation with the owner. As we laugh and talk a party slowly forms around us, John and Boi on the guitar, Kris and I singing.
Struggling to shape my thoughts into words, I’m approached by a young Indian boy who stares longingly at my computer. To his astonishment I don’t have any games installed, instead we entertain ourselves by taking silly pictures while his father looks on and laughs.
Watching children play in the distance with a broken surfboard in the sea. Skimming it across the wash they shriek with laughter each time one of them gets catapulted into the air by an incoming wave.
Sitting, facing north, I close my eyes. I can hear the wind in the trees and feel the beat of my heart as I begin to count my breath.