Mae Phosop (โพสพ)
There is an enthalpy on me. This is a pile of dirt that has accumulated by sticking together over many years and lifetimes. Sometimes it is emitted, sometimes it is absorbed, but it never vanishes. I am seeking ways to embrace each and every one of them as it is integral to my understanding of life.
There were moments when I sought sanctuary in escapes. Yet with each escape, these masses only grew more desperate, pushing me towards the resolution I ultimately discovered through self-confrontation. Since each of us is a unique experience, we must find our unique paths to confront our very own masses in pursuit of healing. Healing is intrinsically hidden in spiritual growth. In my experience of elevated existence, I began to appreciate the value of cultural practices that foster within me a greater understanding of life. Every single cultural element I encounter that stirs a profound resonance within me brings about a continuous sense of remembrance. This back-and-forth motion probes the depths of my mind, revealing some more of the unknown. This journey isn't something achieved in a single stride; it's an inner quest demanding perseverance, courage, and faith. It has become my way of life—an ongoing exploration and evolution towards a higher existence.
My personal story of suffering stems from a childhood devoid of cultural enrichment. For a long time, I attributed this to temporal and spatial circumstances, but later, I came to perceive it as a profound gift. Gradually, I stopped viewing the decayed society, into which I was born, —the 21st century, nation-states, imperialism, neoliberalism, religions— as adversaries. With each cultural discovery, this realisation becomes clearer to me: everything is in a perpetual state of flux within its own essence. There exists neither absolute purity of good nor evil; instead, a dynamic interplay of these intricacies maintains balance within the whole.
Another phase of refuge in escape from the chaotic state of my mind:
The sun ascended invisibly behind the pallid sky as I secluded myself deep in a palm forest. After the monsoon had bestowed its dampness on the earth throughout the night, the breeze's task was now to release its petrichor. Yet, I remained distant even from this evocative sense of smell, as though chasing after the hatred and anger that had engulfed my world. From what else, from whom else could I abscond?
I had yet to realise that this was the pain of rebirth.
I had yet to realise that the more I tried to halt suffering, the more forcefully it returned.
I had yet to realise that rising above suffering was the sole path forward.
As I wandered past a scattering of houses nestled in the woods, I glimpsed a few smiling faces among them. Nothing held me back, but the spirit of the Mother. It felt like a serendipitous encounter with Mae Phosop (โพสพ), the Rice Goddess. A striking sight caught my eye: vibrant robes draped on eight headless mannequins tied to a tree. Despite enduring countless monsoons, they swayed gently in the breeze. Pineapples bore fruit again and again, bamboo trunks filled with water. New waterfalls cascaded from existing ones, underground caves were flooded. The dresses dedicated to her continued to gleam brightly on the tree where it's believed the Mother once visited.
Phosop is a central figure in ancient Thai folklore, revered as the Mother (แม่, Mae) who provides food (ข้าว, khao, also meaning rice) for her children. According to legend, in the past, rice grains were as large as melons, and rice grew abundantly without the need for cultivation. However, an old widow, while building a barn, became frustrated with the excessive growth of rice under her barn and struck the grains with a stick. This action caused Phosop to flee and seek refuge with a fish, leading her deep into the forest where humans could not find her. As a result, people suffered from starvation for 1,000 years.
One day, a young man lost in the forest discovered the cave where Phosop lived. He attempted to persuade her to return to the human world, but she initially refused. It was only when the fish spoke sweetly, "The next Lord Buddha would be reborn, and you would be praised more than ever," that Phosop agreed to return. Her blessing was deemed essential for the Buddha to fulfil his earthly duties. During this era, rice grains had diminished in size. Thai culture holds that humans cannot thrive or live long without rice, emphasizing the deep spiritual and practical significance of rice cultivation in their lives.
Next to this sacred tree stand many spirit houses (ศาลพระภูมิ, San Phra Phum) of various sizes. These miniature houses, adorned with figurines and offerings, take me to unknown realms with each visit. Some express gratitude, others seek protection or blessings of fortune. Some personify the owner’s ancestors, others symbolise offerings in lieu of animal sacrifices. To me, these spirit houses epitomise the intrinsic grace and depth of the Thai people. They reflect a profound connection to spirituality and a reverence for their cultural heritage.
Do these not stir recollections of rituals that were laid to rest centuries ago?
O Rice Goddess, ascend into the rice bin,
Sstray not into the meadows and fields
Where mice may nibble and birds may snatch you with their beaks.
Go to the blessed place
Nurture your offspring and descendants in abundance.