On simplicity and the beauty of backwardness
Two years ago, I visited Wat Pa Tam Wua, a forest monastery in Thailand, and my life hasn’t been the same since. It was the first time in years that I locked my phone away for an entire week. No internet, no music, the same white clothes every day, and only eating before noon. It felt like being transported back in time—to a summer when my parents left me in the countryside. I was so annoyed back then because, unlike the city, there was absolutely nothing to do. No electricity, no music, no signal, no TV, and no showers—we had to wash in the basin, under the open light of day.
I still remember my mom smirking as we left, saying, “Those will be the best moments of your life!” That only annoyed me more because, to me, it was absolute torture. I would’ve rather been watching TV or hanging out with friends any day. My brother, my cousin and I got so bored that we started building swings, exploring everything that could be explored around the house, helping our grandma in the garden (though we probably caused more chaos) and, naturally, fighting with each other. Teasing my brother was the highlight of my day and he’d never let me get away with it :)).
At the monastery, the simplicity took me right back to that summer. I meditated every day and went on these nature walks barefoot. At first, I found the whole atmosphere a bit cultish—everyone dressed in white and smiling at me, like something out of a dystopian movie. My skepticism kicked in (I watched way too many documentaries which on one hand, helps me spot sketchy things; on the other, it can make it harder to embrace new things), but my gut told me I was safe, so I stayed.
Before this, I didn’t know much about meditation. Whenever I felt overwhelmed by life, I’d just lie in bed until I felt better, or hide in the restroom at work to catch my breath (I mean, isn’t that why it’s called a restroom? 🌝). But during that week, with no external input, I finally found some clarity. It’s where I finally came up with my dissertation topic—absolutely crystal clear and out of nowhere—after overthinking it for years.
Looking back, that week gave me some of the most profound experiences of my life—ones I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to fully put into words. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who might want to give this a go, especially since their experience might be entirely different. But something about being in that space, disconnected from the world, unlocked something in me and allowed me to see life in a new light.
That countryside summer still holds a special place in my heart. At some point, I got so bored that I tried to find signal on my grandma’s NOKIA to call my parents and beg them to pick me up. After searching endlessly for a signal, I finally got one bar under the walnut tree in front of the house. I called my dad—and I’m pretty sure he pretended not to hear me…(I know his spiels). It was also the first time I remember experiencing pitch darkness at night—so dark that I couldn’t tell whether my eyes were open or closed. I thought that was so awesome.
And then there were the earwigs. I was so terrified of them that I slept with toilet paper stuffed in my ears. Creative, eh? 😏 Despite all that, there was something about the boredom, the nature, the sounds of animals, crickets, the train, the quietness, the crisp smell of smoke and mornings, the elasticity of time and just the backwardness of it all—both in the countryside and at the monastery—that helped me see things I probably wouldn’t have noticed otherwise.
It’s funny; I didn’t realise until much later, maybe three years ago, that my mom was right. That was one of the best times of my life because it was so simple, so unfiltered and full of wonder and possibilities. The world hadn’t yet hijacked my mind with all its expectations of how I should live or who I should be. I had no doubts that I could do or have anything I wished for when I grow up, no matter what my circumstances were back then. Now my life is still exciting because I’ve found ways to incorporate that into my adulthood, along with the perks that come with it.
Whenever life feels overwhelming, I know I can retreat to a place like that—physically or mentally—and find my clarity again.
And the time away from my friends and family? It hasn’t always been easy but it makes me appreciate them so much more when we finally reunite. And nothing gets me more excited than bringing some tea back home hah!