Lessons From Loy Krathong

When I moved to Thailand 2 years ago, there were so many cultural norms to discover. 

One celebration that has become my favorite is Loy Krathong.

It’s a festival that occurs during the 12^th month of the Thai lunar calendar, dating back to about the 12th century.

People come to the water’s edge to float small boats made of banana leaves and stems.

The intent is to pay respects to the Goddess of Water for providing sustenance and transportation, pay homage to ancestors, and to fill each boat with your troubles and worries so they can float away downstream.

The first time we celebrated Loy Krathong, my wife and I went to a small temple in a quiet neighborhood by the river.  Mostly local families.

I remember one of the Monks handing me a large bucket filled with Krathong – the tiny banana leaf boats – smiling and pointing to an open spot by the river.

My wife and I floated about a dozen boats.  I didn’t expect to be moved by this simple act.

But it struck me that at the same time we could

►    Pay respects to the power and beauty of nature

►    Honor the spirit of those no longer with us

►    Allow our pains, worries and troubles to simply float away, if only for a short time

►    Give ourselves permission to envision the future we want for ourselves, our families and those around us.

And the bonus – seeing the magic and promise of the Krathong reflected in the eyes of children as they knelt with their parents to set sail to each boat.

Moments of reflection like this remind me that even if you don’t have a Krathong to float, you can still:

►    Take a moment to thank the people and forces that sustain you

►    Mindfully acknowledge the worries you’re ready to release

►    Name one hope you want to carry forward into the coming year

We may not all celebrate Loy Krathong, but we all know what it feels like to long for a fresh start.

If you had a Krathong tonight, what would you place inside—and what future would you ask it to carry downstream?