I booked a mini bus from Koh Chang to the airport in Bangkok. The travel agent said it would take 5 hours. That would put me arriving two and a half hours before my flight to India left. Perfect.
As it turned out, the ride to the airport ran an hour behind. I tried my best to keep my cool. I had budgeted an extra half hour wiggle room.
I finally arrived at the airport only to find out there is more than one airport in Bangkok, and I was at the wrong one.
That left me less than an hour and a half before my flight took off to find a cab, drive across Bangkok, check in, and pass immigration and security.
I ran through the floors of the airport and secured an outrageously expensive cab to the other airport in bumper to bumper traffic with a driver speaking loudly on the phone in his native tongue the entire time.
At this point, I surrendered. I made peace with the possibility of missing my flight and needing to stay the night in a hostel. I’d just book the next available flight to India. It’s just money. Another expensive travel mistake. Oh well.
I held the worst case scenario with the best case scenario potential reality. I imagined the great relief I would feel when I got to my seat in the plane. I visualized with intensity and concentration that sweet, sweet relief.
I arrived at the correct airport with 35 minutes before my flight left.
I tried the self check-in kiosk, knowing Air Asia closes check-in 45 minutes prior to departure time.
Self check-in didn’t work so I ran to the desk. People!
Check-in isn’t gonna happen, they said. Next flight to Bangalore leaves Friday. It was Tuesday.
They asked for my visa and, of course, I didn’t have it printed, and my phone was out of data and wouldn’t connect to wifi to pull it up on my email.
The check-in girl helped me connect to wifi to send them my visa.
Minutes passed, and I assumed the airline people were booking my flight Friday. Meanwhile, I browsed hostels nearby to find a place to stay the next couple nights.
Check-in girl returned with a hard copy of my visa, passport, and boarding pass. Gate 5, she said.
What?! Tonight!! Now?!
Yes, you have 10 minutes to get to the gate. Go!
I ran to immigration, and people in front of me let me through. I passed through security unpacking my impossibly tight backpack. I ran to the gate, panting.
I made it!
And for some reason, the check-in people hooked me up with an upgrade to the nice seats in Air Asia. Score!
Apparently, God wanted me to make it to India.
I had surrendered in the cab in the middle of traffic. I had felt the disappointment of missing the beginning of Ayurveda training. I remained as calm as humanly possible. I watched the thoughts of judgment and self-criticism about my lack of attention to details. So unlike me to flub like this. I remained detached from the thoughts.
And guess what? It all worked out. I made it, and I even had extra leg room and a seat in the front of the plane. I am in awe.
The funny thing is I had been listening to Autobiography of a Yogi the whole ride to the airport. I was in a calm, centered place with all kinds of good conditioning coming in. I surfed the waves of anxiety and adrenaline, and that’s something.
At the ashram, I felt with 100% certainty that I was in the absolute right place. The right place to wake up and prepare my body vehicle to hold and share more light. To more deeply and fully know God.