Uncertainty

I started getting migraines again, was it last night? This morning? Slow onset. Predictable.

This seems to happen at times of transition. I mean times of hyper-transition, since there is absolutely nothing stable to my life right now.

Against the general background of instability, impermanence, and uncertainty, there are nonetheless spikes in activity. Tomorrow, I'm flying to Mandalay, with the goal of bolting three routes on a crag 30 minutes east of Mandalay, at the edge of the escarpment where the Irrawaddy River valley meets the Shan hills. I just managed to book my return flight, and my hotel, with Alice, at the Peacock Lodge. This is a small oasis of regularity. I'm a regular customer. They take care of me. I know what I'll have for breakfast there, even if I don't much care for it. I know what it will cost (about $12 for the 'economy' room, which is all they have left).

Everything else is uncertain. Will the plane leave early, late, or at all? How much will the taxi cost from the airport? (It's always different.) How will I get from the Lodge to the crag with all my bolting gear? (The standard taxi in Mandalay, the Mazda B600, doesn't have enough power to go up the hill. Getting a ride on a scooter is precarious, as I learned last time. Maybe I can find a real car to taxi me. . . ) Will there be any Myanmar climbers to help me? Can I actually bolt routes? (This is a first for me--but I think so.) After being really sick for two weeks, am I strong enough to get the job done? How will I get back to the lodge? Do I really have enough money for this?

On the 3rd of February, I fly to Bagdad from Bangkok. But my Myanmar visa expires January 28. Will my hotel let me overstay? Or will I have to spend five days in Bangkok? If so, where? Are the Baghdad people booking this now? When do they need to know? What exactly will I be doing there? I know I have to prepare something in advance, but no one has really told me what.

And once in Bahdad. . . and then in March, what. . . ?

You would think that given the situation, I would take up something more regular and soothing than rockclimbing. Truth be known, I would prefer not to go up. I would prefer to sit on my hotel bed and watch Premier League and Buffy all week-end, and drink tea with U Zaw Thein, and wonder about the future. Maybe buy some one buck dvds on the sidewalk and watch them. Something relaxing.

Why do I do this?

I think that this is all a conspiracy to make me turn to myself for the constancy I lack in the outside world. Maybe, as the Buddha would say, all the constancy I need is somewhere within the container of this six-foot body. Can I let this be ok? as a teacher of mine would ask.