"There's been a great deal of news recently about everything from global warming to a threatened energy crisis to the struggle of the oceans and the decimation of all manner mammalian species. And while this is only one side of the planetary story, it is the one the media tends to focus on.What comes up for you when you think about this? What do you believe about these reports? Do you find yourself avoiding the topic? Does it make you sad? Angry? Or are you inspired by how these problems are call to purpose and a new way of living?"

I believe the state of our environment is a reflection of the state of our internal environments. I feel responsibility to respond within and without. I feel urgency to take action within and without. It seems many of the changes needed to create a healthy earth will take place as more and more people become more conscious. So to be the change I want to see in the world, I choose a optimistic state of mind and focus on what is working. I connect with a community of people who are actively doing something. I surround myself with optimism. I work Within moment by moment to be a light of love in this world cultivating compassion and awareness as well as work Without to alter my usage of energy, fuel, materials etc. and do what I can to inspire action in others.
Sometimes I do feel sad. I will find myself in tears when viewing images of underweight polar bears. I feel angry when I witness people choosing not to recycle. I often feel overwhelmed by it all. I make a point to change my state of mind, alter my focus and return to inspired action. Do something. When you think you are doing all you can, do more.

Zaadz is happening NOW, Change is happening NOW, connect and cultivate change moment by moment. Today I am reminded I am part of a team!  Changing the world can be overwhelming! Sometimes I just don't know where to start.
I am currently teaching English in Vietnam with my husband Joshua. I often feel isolated and lonely on the other side of the world, (I'm from Seattle, Washington USA) and having the Zaadz community has not only helped supply the foundation of support I need, the zaadz community has supported my growth as a consciously evolving being. It can be difficult for me to express my expanding perception to my friends and family back home. Together we can build and apply a new context to express our expanding awareness and in turn, share that with the rest of the world. This is one of the reason I love reading the Integral works of Ken Wilber. He recognizes the importance of context when communicating thoughts and ideas, the interpretive nature of how we perceive context, the cultural influences on interpretation, and the many different cultures etc! But in addition to his understanding the importance of context, he has actually BUILT a new context. Wow, and that's hardly scraping the surface. Ken Wilber and Andrew Cohen are why I subscribed to What is Enlightenment magazine and in turn, how I found out about the Zaadz community. Love that!

It's time to write. It's time to write here. 
I feel depleated...
I give more than I have
My intention is to share love.
Why do I not feel connected to the abundance?
I turn within.
The answer is within.
It is yet to be revealed.
patience.
patience.
I am.
Teacher?
Guidance?
Not without.
Within.
Within.
Patience....


 I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders some times. I want nothing but to fulfill this altruistic calling. But not I. I don't even know how to speak anymore. The context has changed, I've shanged, how do I express myself without involving the I. Maybe within the question, therin lies the answer. Love. Express Love.

I am like a mirror. Somone shares Love and instead of taking it, I mirror it back. I give it back. Why do I do this? How do I stop, can I learn to keep for myself what I need?

Connect to Source. Let it flow.

Is it wrong to desire guidance? Is it wrong to desire a teacher? Is it right to only look within? I don't know...

Am I closed off? Have I closed off? In the moments when I am filled with love, do I pour it right out only to close off again?

may I experience abundance so that Love flows freely. May I be like a cup overflowing!

May I self Love and others others to do the same.
May I self heal and help others to do the same.

May I grow from this trial.

May I continue to learn.

www.themilkiswhite.com

The Book

I will begin by posting a bit 'o information sent to us by our dear friend Ili: "May Affect You TAIPEI, Taiwan – Telephone lines and Internet service went dead across much of Asia on today after two powerful earthquakes damaged undersea cables used by several countries to route calls and online traffic. Repairing the cables could take weeks because crews have to pull them up and transfer them to a ship for repair, said Lin Jen-hung, vice general manager of Chunghwa Telecom Co., Taiwan's largest phone company." Affect us indead. Wow, Taipei, Tiawan.... I've been there. We flew into Taipei from Seattle before heading to Bangkok just 2 months ago. I don't know if you all did the math, but the earthquakes in Taiwan hit exactly two years after the Tsunami hit in Thailand on December 26th, 2004. Speaking of Tsunami! We last wrote to you from Long Hai, Vietnam. It was the evening of December 26th. I had just finished writing of my INVASIVE experience in the Internet cafe', I even praised the lovely refreshing wind! Josh called my name sharply, "Bridget, I think they are trying to close." I muttered an okay and began to wrap up my parade of cyber doings. Enter a Vitnamese Lad about the age of 18. He looks at me with a worn look of concern. I know in that instant something isn't right. I search his eyes, his hands, his body language for any signs of information. I look outside. No, Something is not right. Meanwhile the Cafe' Lady is looking at us with concern, shaking her head in what is best described as pity. I look to Josh. His face has gone slightly pale. I turn to the boy. He begins to signal to me. He points toward the ocean. He points to the land. He makes a swirling motion with his other hand. He points to the ocean. He points to us. He points again. We look to the woman, she touches her face with her hands and shakes her head. She points to the ocean. I look to Josh again. We quickly pay and step out into the street. We Look. Left, right, to the left again. Yes, something is definately wrong. We begin to walk, quickly. It is dark. The streets are lined with families. "That's strange." The wind is no longer a pleasant breeze, but a torrent of angry air. "People are leaving!" Josh looks at me, his eyes alive and shining. I take in the scene that is unfolding around us. My mind begins to build an understanding of this new reality, 'People are leaving. See there, Bridget, she is holding a suitcase. There, another suitcase.' A honking moto passes us quickly carrying a family of four and a large bag of rice. HONK! HONK! Aother family passes on a moto. 'People are wearing coats... I hear dogs howling.' My steps quicken. I call out to Josh, "Listen, do you hear them? Listen to the dogs." A cat runs accross our path toward the hills. "The animals, Josh." I search the faces, trying to make sense of what is happening. Nothing. They just look back. Everyone is just looking blankly. Coat and bag in hand. The restaraunt. We're almost to the restaurant. Will she still be there? We begin to run. We are almost to the building where we had, the night before, enjoyed a simple Christmas dinner of Chicken pan fried in butter and two eggs. Josh drank a beer and I enjoyed a bottle of 7 -up both poured atop tall glasses of ice. It was a plesant evening, very quiet. After we finished our meal a young girl, 14, walked to our table pulling a chair with her. She looked behind her nervously. Her brother said, "Go on" with his eyes. She sat. I smiled at Josh. "Wat his yer nam?" she said quietly. The three of us exchanged names. Josh ordered another beer and a glass of ice. The mother brought it over full of smiles. We sat with the young girl for an hour talking. Her English was limited, but we were able to carry on a pleasant conversation about her school, the town of Long Hai, and her family. We began to ask about the typhoon that had hit just one month before. She sat for a moment looking to her left. She looks to her left when she is thinking. After much thought she says simply. "It was terrible." Josh and I run toward the restaraunt. My mind is filled with images. Images of the destruction readily apparent in Long Hai. Images of the Tsunami that hit Thailand 2 years before. Images from the dream I had the first night we arrived in this flattened town. These people, they've been through so much. The blank stares begin to make since. We finally arrive. We peer into the open door of the restarant. We must look frightened. The young girl hurries over to us followed by her father and mother. "What's going on?" Josh asks slightly concealing his concern. She straightens her shoulders. "Tha starm. Tha starm." she makes a signal with her hands. "They say tha starm is c'mingh back." "Who says?" The Government tells the people to leave. An earthquake in Taiwan. They say a wave is coming. "Are you and your family leaving?" "Yes." "Where should we go?" "Hanoi" 'Hanoi? Hanoi is 2 days North...' again the images. We manage a Thank You, before turning on our heals. We are running again. My throat is dry. My legs are weak. 'Why do they feel so heavy?' Water, Oh how I wish for water. "Come on! This way" Josh turns sharply to the left. 'It's faster to go straight... Just run, Bridget.' I stop. Josh turns to me, "Bridget, come on." I take off my shoes. "I'm coming, I can't run in these shoes." We turn sharply to the right toward our guesthouse, toward the ocean. We are nearly there when we see him. Our Lone Westerner. The man from two nights before. He sat alone on the steps of his guesthouse, we saw him and he saw us and that was all. He greets us "Hello." What sweet words! Josh answers back "Hello, do you know what is going on? Everyone is leaving." "Yes, there was an earthquake in Taiwan. There may be a Tsunami heading this way within the hour. The people have been told to evacuate, but they don't know if there is a wave. If it does come we need to head for the hills." He encourages us to remain calm. We agree to pack our bags and return to meet him. We finally arrive to our room. We pack in record time. As I finish up, Josh runs down stairs to speak with our Landlord. This strikes me as a little funny as they speak no English but a good idea just the same. We do, afterall, owe them money for our stay. I finish packing my bag and settle myself on the end of the bed. I try to make a mental list of my things. My mind set turns to survival. I change into my running shoes. I wrap a long sleeve shirt around my waist. A scarf around my neck. Food. We have three oranges. I picture us sitting atop a hill looking at the oranges. I imagine Josh wanting to split them evenly and I insisting he takes two. I better drink some water. The cool water soothes my dry throat. I cough long and hard. The running has brought dust into my lungs. I close my eyes and silence my mind. I turn within. I am calm. Very calm. I realize I feel no fear. Visions of my dream two nights before flash in my minds eye. A tsunami hits the land, we climb the hills, we are safe. We are safe. I begin to meditate. The book. I unpack my book. It's called The 72 Names of God. I bought it back home in Port Orchard from Fred Meyer. I remember it clearly. I saw the book. Bright orange, small, GOD written in grey capitals across the cover. It was the only copy. I picked it up, flipped through it's crisp pages. Yes, I want to buy this. I brought it to the counter. The clerk scaned it, and again. He turned it over, and looked at the back. "I've never seen this book before. Were there more?" "No." I answered. "Just this one." He looked at me then back to the book and to me again. "We don't sell this book." I smiled. "Well, the price on the back says $11, can you sell it to me?" He does some typing and hands the book to me with a receipt. Port Orchard seems like a foreign land to me as I flip through the small pages. Something falls to the floor. It is a small piece of paper. I recognize it immediately. The Prayer of St. Francis. I hold the paper in my hands and begin to sing the hymn: Make me a channel of your peace Where there is hatred, let me bring your love Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord And where there's doubt, true faith in you. Make me a channel of your peace Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope Where there is darkness, only light And where there's sadness, ever joy. Oh, Master, grant that I may never seek So much to be consoled as to console To be understood as to understand To be loved as to love with all my soul. Make me a channel of your peace It is in pardoning that we are pardoned In giving to all men that we receive And in dying that we're born to eternal life. I reach the end of the song and sit in silence letting the words penetrate deeply. . . I wonder for a moment where Josh is. Minutes have turned into twenty and he hasn't returned. I imagine him roaming the streets gathering information. I return to the silence still holding the paper in my right hand. The door opens. Josh enters with two cans of beer. "Well. The danger has passed" He paces with unbounding energy. I know. I'm tempted to tell him the danger was never anything but an illusion but instead I listen. I watch him lovingly as he draws great gulps from the warm can marked "333" I take a sip of mine. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I set it beside me. "Sorry it took so long, I went down stairs and there was no one there so I looked for the German guy and he wasn't there so I started to video tape and this lady came up to me and she spoke really good English. She says, "Can I have a conversation with you?" She tells me to put away the camera because someone will steal it so I do, and then she tells me everything is okay, there is no Tsunami, and all the people leaving -those are the people who don't have tv's. She has a TV and she says the radio announcement told everyone to evacuate. Sorry to worry you." But I wasn't worried. My mind went back to the dream."Hey remember my dream? About the Tsunami and we ran to the hills and survived?" He remembered. He finished his beer and I passed my can to him. "I love you, Josh." "I love you, baby." We sat on the bed. I pulled the three oranges from my bag and began to peel. My nose welcomed the fresh scent. Josh perked up and I handed him one of his own. When we finished our oranges I looked to the third. I was still hungry. I peeled it gratefully and seperated the tender flesh giving half to Josh and saving half for myself. We ate slowly enjoying every last bite. "So, are you curious what I did while you were gone?" I pulled the little book onto my lap and opened the pages that held the Prayer of St Francis and began to sing.

Under the watchful eyes of an entire town me made our way to the center of it. We hoped to find a meal to sustain us longer than 2 hours. It was Christmas Day here. Well December 25th, but Christmas didn't truly come until we awoke this morning, the 26th, knowing our family and friends are back home in the throws of good eating and present unwrapping. I want for nothing but the arms of my loved ones around me. A nice meal wouldn't hurt either.

Josh and I sit awake taking in the day. Before long our thoughts went from family to FOOD. Josh begged me to "create" dishes for him, from my imagination of course.

Course I was a sandwich on toasted whole wheat bread, fresh avocado, tomato, mixed greens, slices of turkey, and cheddar cheese with a touch of honey mustard, and ranch dressing, of course. It was accompanied by a cup of Cheddar Broccoli soup topped with croutons and a fresh garden salad, my specialty Josh would say. I would start with fresh mixed greens tossed in an organic basil Vinaigrette, I would add raisins, fresh, tart green apple slices, walnuts, blue cheese crumbles, and a little hard boiled egg. But why stop there? For Course II Josh would indulge in a bowl of Quaker's Instant Oatmeal, of all things, I believe he said Peaches and Cream? For me, crispy pita chips dipped in my homemade mango guacamole with fresh cilantro. Course III we've done enough "cooking" we would head off to one of our favorite hometown eateries.I can hear Spiro's calling my name! Josh would opt for a Club Sub with a fresh salad topped with House Blue Cheese Dressing and a generous portion of Mozzarella Cheese. To drink he would indulge in a thick, rich, dark beer like Mud Shark Porter. I would stick to water no ice, and would order the Chicken Artichoke Pasta salad with Garlic Bread instead of a roll to eat. Next we would Hit "PV" for some Mexican Food! Josh would no doubt order the Mole' Enchiladas with re fried beans and Spanish Rice. He would wash it down with a 32 oz ice, cold glass of Beer (if I could spell Dos XXX ) I on the other hand like the Cheese Enchiladas with whole beans and white rice and to drink? You guessed, it good 'ol H2O.

Enough of the restaurants, I want some of my mom's homemade Lasagna, Dad would make Garlic bread with tons of garlic, all toasted to perfection, a simple salad with fresh tomato, cucumber, and veggies from the garden and some ranch NON MSG RANCH to be exact! Jeez, what course are we on?? We would head over to Cory's house for some wine and a big vat of Crab Spaghetti! She would cut slices and toast slices of hearty, Italian bread and set out dishes of reduced balsamic vinegar and rosemary infused olive oil (hey dad you should try that with your rosemary from the garden!) Another bowl of fresh greens for the munchin to go with the meal. Room for more! Over to Asha and John's house for a lovely cheese platter from Cosmo's deli complete with an assortment of savory olives, meats and crackers. Josh would have a La Rossa in a frosty glass, and I would create a concoction from the liquor cabinet and the assortment of juices kept chilled in the fridge. We would indulge in dark chocolates, mixed nuts, and perhaps snack on cool bites of soy dream "ice cream." ahhhh, yes the Caresse salad. I would have to fit that in some where. Thick slices of fresh mozzarella cheese topped with tomato, fresh basil, reduced balsamic, a drizzle of avocado oil and a grind or two of fresh pepper....

Yeah, I could think of a thing or two I miss to eat....

But alas here is sit in a Internet cafe' so loud it gives new meaning to the word noisy. People crowd around me as I write to you. This is the third time someone has pointed to the picture of Joshua petting the tiger.They point, look at me without a word and point back to Josh who is sitting behind me. I nod my head yes with a smile and go back to my typing. They, there must be 4 of them, watch my forming of the words which they have no understanding of in blank amazement. If they knew I was writing about them now would they be honored or offended? I think they would be pleased.

I have covered my ears several times in attempt to shield out the screams of the excited children that surround me. They are playing computer games, all of them. Each one clicks and taps excitedly as the screen portrays the shooting and killing of fictitious characters. I place the headphones over my ears in attempt to block at least a portion of the noise... I feel a tug at my shirt. Another snaps their fingers next to my ear. A dare perhaps? I "dare" not turn around. My time online is short and I cannot risk involving myself in conversation.

The computers don't have Skype. We download it, but are told our account is blocked... great... so much for a phone call home. We are saddened as we feel the hours considered reasonable enough to call slipping. Soon they give way completely to what no doubt evokes deep slumber on the other side of the world. Sleep well my loved ones... Perhaps you will hear from us when you wake.

Vietnam has been particularly trying for me... Many a tears have left my eyes for the challenges we are facing and the decisions to be made. I am greatful for this growing opportunity, and I am greatful for the loving support of family and friends. Vietnam is much different than Thailand and Cambodia. It brings with it a lot of confusion. My search for balance here is ceasless. My quest for understanding this land is matched with a quest from this land to understand me. The customs here are rigid. The possibility of offending someone or an entire family is a constant. I want to leave at times.
Where is my head? Probably half focused on the heat and the other half focused on the yells from children that fill this internet "cafe" We are in South Vietnam in the town of Long Hai. You may have heard of the recent hurricane that hit here in October. It devistated alot of the land, but we were drawn to this area because the devistation meant fewer westerners and more seclusion. We are the ONLY westerners save for one man we saw in a fleeting moment. As he sat on the steps of his guesthouse his host came to him and patted his shoulder rapidly pointing at us as if to say, "look there is more of your kind here, go on, go on!" Needless to say the man stayed put and we continued walking.

I am home sick. There is no denying that. There is so much I miss, mostly hugs, family, and friendships. It's easy to feel forgotten at times being so far away, Thank God internet is readily available here. It isn't always the best, but it is like my lifeline to loving support from family and friends. Josh and I have grown so much while away. Our bonds continue to grow stronger as does our in depth understanding of one another and the dynamics we create as partners.
Joshua's thriving independence clashes at times with my vulnerability. I am an open person and I will remain so, just as he will remain fiercly capable. I feel truly blessed to have such a loving husband who is always seeking out new ways of understanding me and himself. You may be amazed to know we rarely argue. At times we honor each other with space, but most of the time we push through challenges hand in hand. Yes, we have grown. As individuals and as one. Even now he pats me lovingly and whispers," I Love You." Yes, I am truly blessed.

My desire for all who know me, and for those of you who are reading this that have never met Josh or I, is to see us face these challenge in hopes that you will find strength within to face your own challenges. In hopes that you will actively seek out TRUTH.
Here's to continued GROWTH!

LOVE,Bridget

Scroll down for the updated portion of this blog =)

Oh my dear Cambodia! What beautiful people, what an inspiration. It saddens me to leave here, but alas tomorrow Joshua and I leave for Vietnam where we will spend 4 weeks backpacking up the coast.
Yesterday we had an amazing day!! We climbed on the back of a motorbike with dear Peter, a man who has since showed us a very real side of the country and it's people. So here the three of us are on the back of this red moto adorned with four gold stickers spelling out 7777. At each stop along our way to The Lighthouse orphanage, Peter would pull out his neatly folded towel from beneath the seat and lovingly wipe the dust away, "You must get off from the left, My Friend." He would tell me kindly smiling ear to ear. Only minutes before I had leaned my leg ever so slightly against the tailpipe sending a wave of  pain up my leg from the heat of it. Our first stop was the ATM, nothing exciting there. Next he took us to what can only be described as the rice block. Imagine an entire block where everyone on the street sells rice and I think you get the picture. "The train comes here and brings the rice." Peter tells us. I smile. We purchase a 50 kilo bag of rice for $25. So now we have one moto, one huge bag of rice, Peter, myself, and Joshua. Off we go! The drive is surprisingly relaxing. Peter takes his time and care as we make our way through the criss crossing traffic. Criss Crossing ... that 's not quite the way of it. It's more like weaving as in weaving a silk scarf on a loom. Either way it's enough to intimidate even the dariest of dare devils. But with Peter we know we are safe. He is a pro and before we know it we have taken the 12 kilo journey to the LightHouse Orphanage.
Upon our arrival we are quickly greeted with little, "Hello's" and "How do you do's" and hugs galore. Lots and lots of hugs. They are pleased to have the rice but are more interested in climbing on Joshua and I like a jungle gym, and being spun around. After a dizzying while of "child's play," the manager of the orphanage, Mr Lee, gives me a tour of the complex. I hand the mesmerized Peter the camcorder, give him a quick lesson in Pause and Record and with a child on my hip, let him be off to have his fun "making movie" as he calls it.
 It's a simple place. With  a dusty yard and two gigantic mango trees. To the left is the "new building" Which took a month to build and had just been finished 3 days before our arrival by kind donation. It consisted of three concrete rooms painted white and each with a wooden door. Across the yard you had the open school room, the open boys sleeping quarters, the "locker room" for the children to keep their personal items like towels and toothbrushes and such, and another room that I cannot remember it's use.. medical related perhaps? He took me back to see the open kitchen, again, only two walls and a roof to keep out the rain. He stopped me with a slight bit of worry on his brow, "Have you ever had Chicken Pox?" I assured him I had them twice. The stove was actually not a stove at all but two propane burners, one for rice and one for soup. They were also a recent donation, before all food was cooked by a simple process involving the burning of wood to create heat, you may have encountered this in your childhood perhaps while camping. . . ; )
He showed me the pigs and the chickens, the water pump, the mango trees they had planted, and the new toilet/ washroom. Two toilets for forty-seven children!
After the tour I was most anxious to get back to playing with the children. One of the first things that struck me about these kids is how tiny they are. A child of 11 most certainly looks 7. A child of 4 would easily be mistaken for 2.  One girl, I'll call her Sarah, had only been there for six days. Before living at Lighthouse she lived at a garbage heap. Sarah and I had a special bond right from the start, she spent almost my entire visit glued to my hip, at one point we sat under the mango tree with two other little girls and I sang to the three of them before one of the volunteers surrendered his magazine and we took to looking through that for a small while. Girls will be Girls!
Before we knew it the rest of the children had made it home from school and Josh was thoroughly involved in a game of football, or as they call it in the states, Soccer. He later told me not only was it the fairest game of soccer he had ever played, the kids were damn good, too! Off they went for dinner which consisted of rice in some sort of broth and a couple a vegetables. We suddenly realized how hungry we ourselves were and decided it was time to be off and grab some food for ourselves!

Sorry to cut it short, more later on this wonderful day!

The day continues:
Peter took us to a local place for dinner. We stopped to get some gas on the way and Peter spent all of his money filling up. When we arrived at the outdoor restaurant I invited him to sit and he declined for lack of funds, we insisted he allow us to buy him dinner!
We talked.  While at the orphanage Peter met a man. This man mentioned Peter's good English and told Peter if he was ever to have a business he would hire Peter to be an interpreter. He said he would like to put on plays and traditional Khmer dancing and would need someone to welcome the guests and announce the shows. Peter asked if I would write a script for him, an introduction he could learn to recite for the man if he ever called him about the job. Peter and I spent most of the meal practicing. I don't know if the man will ever call Peter, but it really struck me how excited Peter was at the prospect. Peter feeds a family of 11, he makes his money by taking people from place to place on his motorbike. He barely makes ends meet. After dinner he asked if we would like to meet his mother. A frail woman of 78 locked alone on the top floor of a tiny flat. It was nearly pitch black as we climbed the concrete staircase. The corners were covered with cobwebs, the cobwebs were covered with black dust. She spoke no English, but quickly offered Josh and I a seat. I got the impression she hadn't seen her son in a while. Peter pointed to  a bed, "Six sleep there" six people sleep on wooden boards making up a bed about the size of a king. His niece leaves at 6 am for work only to arrive home again at 1am, by the time she eats and showers it is 2 am. 4 hours of sleep every night his her usual then off to making pool tables. It took me a moment but I was starting to piece it all together. Peter's father, a doctor, was killed in 1975 during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. Peter thinks he was ten. Peter thinks he is 48 now, but will never be sure because the family hid all of their documents in the ground and couldn't find them again. His brother and his wife were also killed so their children stay with Grandma. That accounts for the 7 although there are a couple children I couldn't account for. Peter has his own flat with his wife and two daughters and that accounts for the other four making a family of eleven. With 2 rental payments a month amounting to $120 US plus utilities, it's no wonder He is just barely making it. This is only one family. In Cambodia 40% is below the poverty line. Streets are swollen with orphans and victims of landmines. Yet, it is truly astounding the spirit of these people. Inspiring to say the least. When I look at the smiling faces of the Khmer people I see such strength and courage. Joshua and I have been talking about adopting in a few years, I would be honored if our child came from the country of Cambodia.

We have been in the country of Cambodia for 9 days. What an astounding place. Cambodia is in our hair you can say.

Josh and I are each sitting at our respective computers inside a small internet shop. Six computers each with a matching chair,desk, and mouse pad are lined neatly against the wall. Outside a Tuk Tuk collects dust as a young man coughs and spits a thick wad of spit in a loud display. My family calls that a "Hoktui" a word that simply means to "hock spit" loudly. The young chap who is maning our shop sucks his teeth loudly. Note that people spit alot in Cambodia.

Josh sits to my left typing away at yet another tale for you. This is our second internet installment of the day. We were here earlier for two and a half hours updating the site and answering emails. And blogging of course.

"Bleeerrrrp" The Internet Boy burps loudly.

Yesterday Josh and I hopped on a Tuk Tuk and went to the Russian Market in Phnom Penh, not sure why it is called the Russian Market. It was a latice work of shops full to the brim with silk scarves, worldly trinkets, dirty children, beggars, tourists, watches, and silver jewelry. We purchased two beautiful silver rings for $7 each to wear on our ring fingers. Had we bought these rings in the states they would likely cost around $35 each. I didn't like being without a wedding ring ( we left ours at home), our new rings will substitute nicely.

Traveling forces you to live simply. And I, the willing servant to simplicity, enjoy having only what I need. Traveling also forces you to wear the same clothes over and over. And Over. So stinking is inevitable. But the stink from our pits is nothing compared to the stink from the confetti of garbage scraps steaming in the sun on the side streets of Phnom Penh. Luckily we only get wiffs now and again.

The people here are very friendly and real. It's refreshing to say the least. It's inspiring. We are making a concerted effort to learn as much about Cambodia as we can while we are here. I can highly suggest the film The Killing Fields. We watched it last night at the guesthouse where we stay again tonight.

These last few days have been full of insight and have left me rather speechless. I am so pleased to be here in Cambodia, this experience is changing my life. As I continue to surrender to the journey I find the doors and windows opening for us here in South East Asia. New goals are to be made, new plans are to be wrought based on what we feel. Based on what it is that truly brings us joy. Follow Your Bliss. Josh and I new when we stepped onto the plane November 7th we would be embarking on an Expediton that would change the course of our lives. Now it is clear that the Expedition and Life are one in the same. We are simply unfolding the course.

From Seattle, Washington to Taipei, Taiwan to Bangkok, Thailand. Many hours and many airplanes later we arrive in Thailand! Here is the video, if it doesn't imbead onto this page please click on the link below :)

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Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1Zekc4zYGw