Ian Moore

Like a Californian autumn, the warm creamy Thai sun greets another day. It is only an hour past sunrise and the city of Bangkok is already buzzing like a honey bee in search of its divine nectar. In a mindful meandering, monks clad in brilliant saffron mix with the locals and parade down the sidewalk in contemplation of the nature of impermenance.

Imagine having one of the most loving and compassionate people in the world as your leader and prime focal point. Someone who is both diplomatic and spiritual. Someone who laughs at how outdated war is and smiles at how powerful love is. Someone who neither is afraid to tell someone that they are wrong nor afraid to admit one's own errors. Someone who would rather rule with open arms rather than an iron fist. Now imagine that this leader is utterly powerless in his own country and photographed images of him are the equivalent of a prison sentence. This is a reality today and not the product of the imagination.

The crisp Indian air resonated with the sacred sound of OM. As I made my way around the ancient yet fresh corner of Kashi, stepping over a banquet of cow pies, past a toothless old woman drinking chai, I could feel the omnipresent and omnipotent energy of millenniums steadily increase and seep into my being. The closer I got, an indescribable and other worldly force began to multiply by the thousands and ensnare the mundane.