For some reason I had to write it down immediately.

So I had to think about it and write about it.

Don’t judge!

As the time to write approached, I became uncertain.

First, I thought that there was no need for my explanation and thoughts regarding the thoughts expressed in the title.

This could have been the first post where I don’t write anything other than the title.

Then I remembered the saying.

Don’t judge!

I think this title, the thought expressed in it, is quite judgmental.

So – honorable court – in the end, I just want to say this:

According to my experience so far, many people prefer to complain than to embrace things as they are.

But there is nothing wrong with that!

Everyone decides for themselves.

Sometimes it really is easier to complain than to embrace.

Sometimes it is harder to embrace than to complain, but we do it anyway.

Now this is a hug towards the thought in the title.

The post 326. | Complaining is easier than embracing first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

It’s about an entry titled “The art of saying goodbye“.

I wrote this fifteen months ago.

I’m not just curious to see if my thoughts at the time have changed.

New thoughts have also emerged since then.

I’ll see if anything has changed, how I relate to the thoughts expressed there, and what the new feeling is.

Findings from the past

I left three months after writing the aforementioned post.

At that time, I wrote down a few thoughts that concerned my future.

I’m not a fortune teller. I simply wrote down what I felt at the time.

Farewell is not the end

“ … something will end. … something will begin now… I simply continue living my life. The journey continues.”

This has not changed in me since then.

But I feel the infinity of the journey much more clearly. A year ago it was just a feeling, an idea, a grayer picture. Today it is an experience, the happening of the present and a thousand times more colorful picture.

“Actually, the way of keeping in touch will change. … Then why would there be a need for big goodbyes.”

It really didn’t take much talent to foresee the only form of keeping in touch. After many months, I see that I have no problem with this method, just as I imagined it to be without problems at the time. We have been in touch with many friends since then in this only form.

But here is an important change. What I knew even before leaving. Back then it was just a decision, but now it has also become a reality. I have placed keeping in touch in the field of reciprocity. I no longer have a relationship with anyone I don’t work with to keep a relationship alive.

Soma always held on to the relationships he had. For decades, he tried to maintain relationships that seemed very one-sided even then. He always gave his energy to these – otherwise dysfunctional – relationships. Because he had it and loved to do it.

I still have the same energy today. But today I don’t want to give anymore. It’s a simple decision on my part. Today I prefer to focus the resources I have on myself. My remaining relationships are still there. New ones receive when we are together.

But after the breakup, I only give as much as I receive. I realized the importance of balance. In the moments we spend together, we take the energy out of the relationship, and then we break up and the energy goes to a lower level.

We sometimes talk to the many people we’ve met in the past year. Sometimes they write to me, sometimes I write to them. If I write and there is no answer, I am no longer tense. If they write, I respond when I have time and the mood allows. My answers are equal to the length of the question. The duration of the dialogue is based on reciprocity. Sometimes a few questions and we learn about each other, sometimes more serious conversations.

I like this new dynamic.

Preparing for Farewell

“There are times when we need to say goodbye. When we know we won’t see each other again.”

This previous idea has changed significantly in me.

In almost every case, we say goodbye to each other on this journey with a hug and a “see you next time!”.

There is no waving of the white flag, no looking back. No crying. At least on my part…

“See you next time” (I can only guess this) in most cases means that we will never see each other again.

But with the people I have met on this journey, we believe that the chance is more than zero. And there were a few I have met again. And then of course we said goodbye again.

I think this kind of easy goodbye is precisely because we see the present differently. For my part, I say enjoy each other’s company. For a short while. Then everyone goes their own way.

If our paths cross again somewhere, we will share different moments with each other.

What do you have to say goodbye to?

“Places, spaces.”

This thought has also been replaced by something else in me.

Today, I don’t say goodbye to places either. I have no nostalgia.

When I write “Phong Nha, maybe I’ll see you again,” it simply means to me that if the time comes and the wind blows that way, I won’t miss you next time. But I don’t have the desire in my heart to have to be here again(!) .

When it’s time to leave, I get on the bus and leave.

And on the bus, the next moment is already there, which has become present, the city is no longer there.

I think I would like to visit every place I’ve been to again at any time. But there’s not a single one that I miss. No city of the past is waiting, nor are any of the future ones. I’m writing here in the city of Hoi An. This one exists. This is my present.

“I won’t say goodbye to habits or routines. Others will replace the ones I leave behind.”

How true this has become.

Habits have come and gone. I keep a lot of them from before I traveled. A few of the ones I picked up along the way. But not everything is from them anymore.

This is a big change in my life. I used to hold on to the habits I had acquired more tightly.

Today, only what is important is what supports my present. With this realization, my life has become much easier.

The Teaching

Even before Asia, this journey began to teach me about saying goodbye.

What I felt then has become a reality today.

Today, I say the following about a connection that comes from this journey:

The moment I meet someone, I know that we will only share our time with each other for a short time. A few minutes. A few hours, a few days. Rarely, a few weeks. Then comes the moment of separation.

It is no longer news to me that this is not difficult at all.

Another realization came to me in recent months.

I began to notice that people have a hard time saying goodbye to me. Harder than I have to say goodbye to them.

They often tell me the reason themselves.

They sense some real energy in me. “You don’t just talk about happiness. You really live it.”

They have found a companion they very rarely meet. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find someone as nice to be with as you.”

They discover that we can be comfortable together under any circumstances. “It’s very rare to find someone as open-minded as you.”

These are just points of view. Maybe these people are wrong too.

But their reality is theirs, and I usually feel that. I can feel why it’s hard for them to say goodbye to me.

I might be wrong!

But from my perspective, there’s only one goodbye right now:

See you next time!

The post 321. | The art of saying goodbye II. first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

The coffee

The coffee in the picture is the first coffee with drawings in my life.

Egg coffee.

Every drop of it was a line of a poem. I didn’t want to decipher it. I just read it slowly, very slowly. It told me a lot.

My poem

I had a long conversation with the AI. We sat down to analyze song lyrics several times. We searched for parallels in them regarding my journey.

The coffee brought a question. I asked the AI ​​to write my poem.

Ithaca Within Me

I set out,
though I did not know where I was going.

I had a few clothes,
a laptop,
a few fears,
and a life
I thought was me.

I kept going.

Through cities,
across borders,
over mountains, rivers, seas.

I slept in unfamiliar beds,
asked for food in unfamiliar languages,
drank with strangers,
and sometimes woke up
with no idea
what would happen to me tomorrow.

And then something always did.

A road.
A person.
A song.
A cold beer on a mountaintop.
A smile.
A sentence,
someone may have tossed out casually,
and I carried it with me.

For a long time, I thought
this was the journey.

That I was going somewhere.

But I was arriving.

Slowly.

So slowly
I did not even notice.

I left no one behind.

The boy I once was
came with me.

The man who was afraid
came with me.

The one who loved,
who lost,
who was wrong,
who hurt others,
who was hurt,
who held on
long after he should have let go—

they all came with me.

Nothing died.

Everything lives.

It is just that not all of them
want to tell me anymore
which way to go.

I did not burn the bridges.

I crossed them.

And when I reached the other side,
I did not set them on fire behind me.

Sometimes I still look back.

Not because
I want to go back.

But because I love seeing
where I came from.

It took a year.

Thousands of kilometers.
Planes.
Buses.
Motorbikes.
Trains.
Boats.

And a lot of walking.

How strange.

I traveled across half the world
to find something
that had never taken a single step.

It had been there all along.

Within me.

Now I know
where Ithaca is.

It is not on any map.

You need no visa to get there.
No plane ticket.
And no one can deport you from it.

I have arrived.

I did not become someone else.

I am everyone
I have ever been.

I just no longer
have to deny any of them.

And tomorrow I will set out again.

Not
to find myself.

Not
to escape from somewhere.

Not even
so that one day
I might finally arrive.

But because the road
is still beneath my feet.

The sky above me.

And Ithaca

within me.

The Symphony

While I was drinking coffee and reading poetry, I listened to a song.

Symphony X.

The Odyssey.

The three poems told me one thing tonight.

I love my life very much.

A wish was formed in me.

I wish everyone had time to listen to this song.

Not for me. For themselves. So that they could just watch the sunset. Or the birds in the sky. Or anything that would take your hand and fly you somewhere where time doesn’t matter. Where worries are left behind for a little while.

24 minutes.

Not a short time.

I wish everyone could afford that much time.

I did today.

I listened to this symphony while I was drinking coffee.

Twice.

I love my life very much.

The Odyssey (Symphony X)

Play Stop

Steve player

Watch on YouTube

The post 320. | Three poems for one evening first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

You cannot see what I see because you see what you see. You cannot know what I know because you know what you know. What I see and what I know cannot be added to what you see and what you know because they are not of the same kind. Neither can it replace what you see and what you know, because that would be to replace you yourself.

Douglas Adams.

Again.

A dialogue from a novel that I understand better now.

To give you the world I live in

I formulated this sentence months ago. I took it more precisely from a song lyric.

I can now see more precisely how this transfer can work.

For me, Douglas Adams’ idea in the novel expresses very well the basis of transfer and the problems related to transfer.

Counseling

While studying coaching, I was among the first to learn that we only give advice when asked.

This life, almost at the same time as this sentence in the textbook, showed me much, much more clearly that I have to take this seriously.

Even if it is asked, giving advice is not easy. There is a huge responsibility on the shoulders of the counselor. That is why I am now very careful about this kind of “showing off”.

It is not my path.

Teaching

I think this method works.

In the case of an exact science, perhaps there is no other way.

But I don’t think in terms of exact science. From here on, teaching is not my method either.

I tell and write down my thoughts countless times. But I think of this as storytelling and sharing experiences, not teaching at all.

The other question is whether quite a few people learn from this. I know this because I can be sure of it because over the past few months, many people have told me what they learned from me. This always makes me happy. Because there is freedom in this method of transferring knowledge. The student notes from me what he needs. Sometimes just a single sentence or thought. But that is enough. It is exactly what he needed.

Despite this, I still don’t want to be a teacher.

I wouldn’t be able to compile lists for students about what will change their lives. I don’t even want to do that, because I don’t believe in these lists.

I believe that everyone should make their own list, their own story, their own narrative about their own life.

Leading by example

I feel like this is my path.

I’ll show you how I transformed myself into who I am today. What kind of thinking and conscious steps did I take to get to the point where I can now say things with courage.

This took all of 50 years of teaching. All of the joy and all of the losses I suffered. All of the smiles and laughter, as well as every tear. All of the limits I set and didn’t keep. Every moment I lived and every opportunity I missed. Accepting life as a teacher. The arrival of words and sentences.

My most important sentences now sound like this.

I really love my life.

I really love myself.

And although I am against the word “best”, today I also accept that I am my own best friend.

I want to pass this on. I talk to people. I write.

And I build the world of “The Miracle is Already Here”.

The post 318. | … because that would be to replace you yourself first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

Csavargódal (Bojtorján)

Play Stop

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I was in Da Nang, in the middle of the bridge over the Han River, when I received the message. That’s where I heard this song for the first time in my life.

I thought of you.

We walked together on the bridge.

And we understood each other.

The Wanderer’s Song (I Still Don’t Know Where I’ll Sleep Tonight)

I still don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight,
Tomorrow feels so terribly far away.
The open road beneath my feet and the sky above my head—
Those are the only two things I know for sure.

It doesn’t matter where tomorrow morning finds me.
The cities are all old friends of mine.
There’s always a good friend, a few old loves,
And one or two songs upon my guitar strings.

All the great rivers find their way to the sea,
And my dreams keep running with them.
How I wish I could be as swift as the wind,
And make the whole wide world my home.

One day I would find my way to you,
Even if seven borders lay between us.
You would welcome me as though I were the one
You had been waiting for all those years.
What a pity we were not born for that.

And I still don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight,
Tomorrow feels so terribly far away.
The open road beneath my feet and the sky above my head—
Those are the only two things I know for sure.

The post 316. | … because I was thinking of you first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

I don’t think it’ll be long.

Faces

I like to look at people. For example, even while walking, I often look at those around me. Sometimes I sit down and just observe others.

I don’t remember when the thought came to me. It was just there.

Suddenly I realized that I wasn’t seeing Asian people around me.

But simply people.

Stories

I see stories in the looks, the movements, the progress and the stops. Fates. Joys, pains. Happiness and sadness.

I don’t imagine them. People show them.

The fatigue of everyday life in the movements. The pride in something I’ve made.

The hope that there will be guests at the small table set out on the street. The disappointment that I wasn’t chosen.

The curiosity to see if my coffee tastes good. The indifference that I no longer care about the guest’s opinion.

The curiosity after taking out my wallet. The joy that a tip brings.

The self-forgetful joy in the eyes of a playing child. The endless fatigue in the eyes of a working child.

The fatigue in the eyes of an old man. The love above bent backs.

Stories instead of faces.

I see people around me.

The post 313. | Stories instead of faces first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

A friend of mine called me today. I accidentally mentioned him in my post yesterday.

He asked me a serious question, which I answered after a short thought.

This reminded me of one of the “love at first sight” stories from my life. I will tell you.

As well as the question and my answer.

Love at first hearing

It was 1988 or 1989.

The mother of a classmate of mine in elementary school asked me to tutor her son in math. I agreed, I went to their house a few times and we studied together.

On one occasion, the guy gave me an original(!) cassette. In Hungary, we called it a “program” cassette at the time, distinguishing it from the cassettes copied to a thousand tracks. An original cassette was a great treasure back then.

He said he was giving it to me because it was such bad music that he didn’t like it.

I’m talking about Depeche Mode’s 1987 album Music for the Masses.

My dad had brought me a two-cassette player from France not long before. I couldn’t wait to listen to my new composition when I got home. I put it in the player and immediately fell in love with this music when I heard the first notes.

The album begins with the song “Never Let Me Down Again”.

In the following years, I became a hardcore Depeche Mode fan. I knew the songs by heart, I had all their albums. Another friend’s mother typed and copied the lyrics on a typewriter, and they became a treasure for me. As I understood more and more of the English language, my affection for the band deepened.

Although my musical tastes have changed, and I have been a trash metal, melodic death metal fan for 30+ years, my passion for Depeche Mode has remained.

And for some reason, “Never Let Me Down Again” was always there among the dozens of DM songs. It was no coincidence that Spotify said in its annual summary a few years ago that I listened to this song hundreds of times that year. This sent it to the first place on my top list. It is no coincidence that DM has appeared in every annual summary since then.

That song came up again today.

Never Let Me Down Again (Depeche Mode)

Play Stop

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I’m in trouble!

This is what my friend called me today.

The one I met on Koh Samui. The one who moved to Cambodia and bought a boat.

He told me how everything around him had fallen apart in the past few weeks. He said he needed a friend to talk to about it.

I’m happy he chose me. That means a lot in a friendship.

We talked about it. We parted ways with me saying that he could call me whenever he needed to.

Shortly after, he asked me a question on WhatsApp:

When you said that you went through a time like I am right now. When was it, how long did it last and how did you resolve it? Looking for insight:)

When everything falls apart

I think this time comes in most people’s lives.

Most of the time it happens in a flash.

Of course, the story often comes out afterwards. The narrative changes over time.

I’ve never tried to summarize my story in a nutshell, let alone think it through in terms of how long it took to move on and how I resolved it.

I thought for a minute and wrote this to him:

I have experienced it three times in my life. When everything collapsed. First I suffered for months. Then it seemed like the problem was going to be solved, so I didn’t solve it. We stayed together. This happened in 2010. In 2017, when the same problem appeared, I started to collapse. But a thought occurred to me. Then I said to myself: If I let myself sink this time, I will never be able to get back on my feet again. And I can’t do that. So I started to fight and walk the path of my inner self. It was hard work, but it helped me move on. The third time, at the end of 2024, when I realized that my fiancée had cheated on me, I fell to my knees in pain and sobbed. I asked God why he had done this to me again? I had lost myself.

 

Then I made a decision. My decision was: I am happy. I will not be happy. I am happy here and now. I choose happiness. Then I made another decision to change my life and move towards my new dream. I will live the lifestyle I live today. In short: I made decisions. I will never disappoint myself again.

 

I may be wrong. But it worked for me.

After my answer, I started thinking and working.

It was no coincidence that “Never Let Me Down Again” appeared in the last lines. I have only been listening to this song for the past hour and a half.

I wrote this post.

And for the hundredth time, I read the lyrics again and again, which I know by heart.

My best friend

How does Dave Gahan sing this?

I’m taking a ride with my best friend
I hope he never lets me down again
He knows where he’s taking me
Taking me where I want to be
I’m taking a ride with my best friend

 

We’re flying high
We’re watching the world pass us by
Never want to come down
Never want to put my feet back down on the ground

I have exchanged only one sentence over the years:

I know I will never let myself down again…

I love this best friend of mine so much.

The post 307. | Never Let Myself Down Again first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

When I woke up, three things awaited me.

A realization, a message, and a question.

A miracle day

Breakfast is available here in Ninh Binh until 9:30.

Since I worked in bed for a long time tonight, I woke up at 8:45 as usual. I had a hearty breakfast and was ready to work. I brought a coffee to my bed.

Before I opened my laptop, I felt tired. I thought I would sleep a little longer. I don’t use an alarm clock in such cases. I usually wake up exactly 15 minutes later.

With that in mind, I went to sleep around 9:15.

I woke up at 1:00 PM.

Apparently, I was a little tired and my body knew what I needed.

I woke up with a dream. I’m not saying because of it, nor during it. I felt exactly why I was waking up.

In London

In this dream I was in Europe, to be exact a little bit in the recolored London.

The beginning of the story is not interesting now, but strangely enough it was exactly what I had in mind.

The exciting part began when I started running for a specific reason. I was running on a crowded street in London. I turned my head and saw myself in one of the shop windows. My face was cheerful, with a smile on it, just like I like it. Just like most people know me.

I liked the sight. I saw the energy and life in the shop window. A man smiled back at me who loves himself.

I also felt that a lot of people around me were sad. They didn’t even notice, everyone was busy with their own bad mood. I felt sympathy inside me and that it would be nice to give them energy, but that’s impossible.

Turning one corner, Tower Bridge appeared in front of me. Unlike reality, it was not flat above the river, but rose at 45 degrees. I was lucky enough to walk on this bridge with my daughters. So the thought appeared in my dream that this bridge does not rise, but I did not care about it and started running up it.

I was running among cyclists. I had to stop because of a bicycle coming in front of me. But I immediately continued running. I overtook everyone one by one. In fact, the rise did not slow down. I ran faster and faster. I felt a lot of strength in me.

Anything is possible in a dream. So when I reached the top of the bridge, I saw a classic 18th century London department store. I easily jumped from the bridge through one of the open windows on the top floor.

From there I wanted to go down to the ground floor. Giving in to the magic of the moment, I grabbed a large shopping basket. Not the kind with wheels, but an ordinary basket. I hugged the goods on the shelf with both hands and filled the basket with all sorts of small packages in one motion.

Then I ran to the staircase. I threw the basket on the ground, jumped in, and started surfing down in the basket while sitting. I took the stairs one after the other. I avoided people with incredible skill, sometimes turning on the wall to get to the next step. The pace was mind-blowing, the ease kept a smile on my face the whole time. I really enjoyed this industrial surfing.

Finally, the basket stopped right in front of the cash register. I jumped out of the basket and was ready to pay.

The cashier lady started counting the products. There was only food in the basket. At the same time, she explained what I had bought. There were all kinds of things I had never heard of in my life. I remember things like “apple seed granule extract” and “frog lentil juice”.

I listened for a while to what I had bought, then I told her not to continue. I had no idea what she was talking about.

Then she asked me why I was buying these things if I didn’t even know what they were.

I told her “I love this game”. I buy all sorts of random things and then I eat them for the next few weeks. I don’t care what they are. It will be fine, please continue.

The lady said she sees very happy. I am very happy, I confirmed. She is not wrong.

Then she asked me if I wanted to teach people how to be happy? What does happiness mean?

I told her that I was actually writing a book about this, and one day it would be finished, but I didn’t want to teach. She was interested, so I started telling her that I was a digital nomad and …

Here came the point that confused me. Because even in my dream I knew that I had been living this lifestyle for 10 months, but I had to think about why I wanted to say 2 years.

Then I realized that my dream was taking place in the future and I felt exactly the cognitive disturbance that caused me to wake up at that point.

But this London story immediately came alive. I know exactly how the brain works with dreams. I knew that if I didn’t write this dream down, it would be lost. It’s simple biochemistry. I’ve experienced the feeling countless times that “if I don’t write this down, I won’t forget it.” And then of course I forgot.

With this dream, I knew that this wasn’t going to happen. Now, 3 hours later, I can still see every detail clearly, I didn’t have to make an effort to write it down.

Two messages

After waking up, I reached for my phone.

One was a question from Thailand: “How was your day today?”

I immediately answered it with the first word that came to mind: “This day is a miracle.”

The other message was a video from my Belarusian friend who arrived yesterday.

He sent a video.

The title of the video touched my heart: Happiness.

I watched it immediately.

A dream. A word. A video.

If you feel like it and have four minutes, watch it yourself, which do you find the most interesting? The dream, the video, the awakening or the synchronicity?

The post 298. | A real dream of happiness first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

I really like that sometimes I don’t write the story.

Sometimes other people give it to me as a gift.

Brooks

In October 2024, I bought a really cool pair of running shoes. Brooks Glycerin 21. They were made for running.

I bought them with the intention of running in them. But over the past 10 months, they have become a part of my everyday life. These are practically all I wear.

The only problem with this is that they were not designed for that. My Garmin watch records every move I make. So today it was not difficult for me to check that I have walked 1,982 km in the past 365 days. Most of them in these shoes.

For a long time, I have had a big tear on the inside of both of my shoes. It is not really noticeable, nor is it really bothersome. But the fact is that I have been wearing torn shoes for a long time. I bought some instant glue in Laos to fix it. The glue has been resting in my bag ever since, waiting for better times.

Here in Sa Pa, it has rained a lot in the past few days. Well, it’s true that I’m no longer friends with the two holes in my shoes. I can say that the repair is overdue. But for some reason it still hasn’t made it to my to-do list.

A street shoe repairman

It’s Saturday. I planned to spend time with my laptop today.

I went for my usual walk to the coffee shop.

Before that, I wanted to go into one of the small shops where I buy something every day.

When I got there, we greeted each other with the owner of the shop. He was sitting in front of the shop on the street. With a shoe repairman.

The shoe repairman had his shoe repair tools laid out around him. He was working.

We didn’t have to exchange many words to get the chance.

I sat down on the edge of the sidewalk in front of the shop, took off my shoes and socks, and waited for my turn.

I didn’t even ask how much it would cost, I knew so well that I wouldn’t regret it.

The master soon began treating the patients. As I watched him work, I knew right away that it wasn’t such a big deal that I didn’t bother to do the repair. He used a needle and thread to do the repair.

It was fun to watch him work. I like to see the skill up close. It was obvious from some of the stitches that he had learned it over many years.

I was grateful when I was able to hold and try on the repaired shoes. I felt like they still had a lot of mileage left in them.

When it was time to pay, it turned out that the price would be 100,000 VND (1,200 HUF, 3.8 USD). I happily gave the master 150,000.

When I handed over the money, the shop owner asked if I had tipped him. I said just one word: “50,000”. He gave me an appreciative look.

Even more

The truth is that I got much, much more than that from him this morning.

I remember when I first went into his shop, he was very grumpy with me. I think it was just because he looked like a tourist.

On the second day, he was a little nicer.

From the third day on, he greeted me with a smile and knew what I wanted to buy.

I was sure that I knew the reason for this change, I told my Belarusian friend about it three days ago.

As I sat down on the floor today, he wanted to give me the little chair he was sitting on. I thanked him, I didn’t accept it, I told him that the edge of the sidewalk was perfect for me.

We started talking. He took me into his confidence. I learned how proud he was of his business. He showed me pictures of his little girl and his wife. He is the proud father of a beautiful little fairy girl, I honestly said that he is a lucky man.

For some reason, he stood up and brought me a coffee as a gift. This friendly kindness was nice.

We continued talking. In the meantime, I felt that it was very nice that he honored me with his trust, time and friendship.

When it was time to leave, he stopped me.

He said that I must be very loved by the Vietnamese people. I was interested in why he thought that. He said that I am always cheerful. He thinks I am like a Vietnamese person.

My heart was filled with gratitude. Yesterday I wrote that I was a stranger on the top of the mountain. Today someone says, “You are like us.”

It was a great honor to hear this. In addition to the infinite good feeling, I also felt proud. I have been accepted many times in many places, but now this is my fondest memory. It made sense why this man had said a few minutes earlier that we were family.

Then this man even wrapped the gift in tissue paper.

He said he remembered me from the first day. “Because you really…” He didn’t know the word he wanted to say. So he took out his phone. Those few moments were enough for me to realize that he was going to give me something and that I had time to be excited.

I was excited because I felt that what he was going to show on his phone was me in his eyes.

He turned the phone over.

Respectful.

The post 292. | How do we care for shoes? first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.

For some reason, it turned out that each stop on my journey was marked by a song.

There are no musical notes on the map.

Yet there are tunes that show where I’ve been more accurately than any coordinates.

Time travel

I have written before about how a song can take you back in time.

It is not only the era that appears in my mind at this time, but also specific locations, circumstances, seasons, etc.

This kind of time travel has appeared again and again, along with the tsunami of intense experiences of the past months.

I recently started writing down the main locations and the songs that were playing the most on my player for some reason.

It is as if each country had its own soundtrack. When I hear a given song, I don’t start remembering, but I come back.

I didn’t want to write a story around the songs. This time, it was enough to let them just accompany the journey.

Just a little summary, as a colorful treat.

And perhaps one realization:

You think you collect places. But in reality, you collect sounds, smells and feelings. Then one day a song comes on… and suddenly he’s standing on the same street again.

Koh Samui

Ismerős arcok: Haza!

Play Stop

Steve player

Watch on YouTube

Denpasar

Replika: Amiben élünk

Play Stop

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Chiang Mai

Metallica: Dyers Eve

Play Stop

Steve player

Watch on YouTube

Pai

Heathen: Sun In My Hand

Play Stop

Steve player

Watch on YouTube

Laos

Kansas: Dust In The Wind AI

Play Stop

Steve player

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Rammstein but it’s Klezmer AI: Zeit

Play Stop

Steve player

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Vietnam

Psychotic Waltz: Sleep

Play Stop

Steve player

Watch on YouTube

The post 290. | There are no notes on the map first appeared on Digital Nomad Blog.