The Story He Tells
I was Igor. I had a business. An apartment in Moscow with a view of the ring road. A wife who wanted Paris. I wanted truth. She wanted renovation. We separated.
I sold everything. I flew to Thailand and meditated for forty days until I understood that rice is also people. Then India — an ashram where the guru said: let go of everything. I let go. He left with my money.
Then Laos, where I studied with monks who mostly wanted Wi-Fi. Then Vietnam. Mexico. Portugal. And then California, where I stopped looking and started drinking.
I am not searching anymore. I already found it. I just forgot what.