Asia, Bangkok, Barcelona, Life, Popular, Thailand, Travel

Bangkok Earthquake: The Matter of Moments

30 March

This was supposed to be just another simple blog post, highlighting the week of an ordinary digital nomad trying to conquer the world from the amazingly diverse, loud and humid streets of Bangkok.

Friday’s earthquake changed that.

When you take a moment to reflect, it’s incredible to consider all the things that have to align for us to be here, and the events of Friday were no exception. I usually work from home on TGIFs, in my one-bedroom corner apartment, perched on the 23rd floor, with nearly floor-to-ceiling windows. But that morning, exhausted from a late-night work session, I woke up feeling drained and completely uninterested in the soggy oatmeal I had planned for breakfast.

A still from a video in one of many group chats. Just one instance of pool water spilling over the roofs of Bangkok’s many highrises, flooding the streets below.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jess Hagmaier (@_thejesseffect)

And, despite my commitment to limiting my Starbucks visits to once a week (for the health of both my wallet and my waistline), I decided to break my own rule and headed there to knock out some work before eventually making my way to the gym. Just a few hours later, in a city that hadn’t seen a 7.0+ earthquake in almost 40 years, the ground began to violently shake and panic ensued.

Had everything gone according to my original plan, I would have been in my apartment, 23 stories in the air and possibly in the kitchen, when my building’s exterior wall cracked and my balcony doors shook open, resulting in who knows what outcome. Had I not still been tired from my 1 AM workday and decided to skip the gym, waiting to finish my show before heading home from my impromptu Starbies workday, I would have been on the Metro, a hundred feet above ground, when tremors hit the unsuspecting, unprepared and densely-packed city.

Instead, I was on the second floor of a quaint, two-story building, first feeling lightheaded, then losing all sense of balance, and finally realizing something bigger was happening. As we were evacuating down the stairs, the building next door shook, with several crashes, bangs and flashes of light coming from its interior. This was the building that housed my gym… another place I could have been if I had made just one different decision that day: going to the gym before Starbucks or wrapping up work earlier and following through on my workout. Again, all the things that must go exactly right for us to have the privilege of being here another day, even when in the moment, it feels like anything but.

...life [is] most meaningful in the day-to-day... the small wins, the big setbacks, and the endless redirections that not only make up our lives but keep us living them... the moments that strip us down to our core and remind us what it truly means to exist. Because it’s in the instances, when life feels most fleeting, most fragile, that we are truly alive.

It’s moments like these, like the two full minutes of shaking, crashing, and panic during an earthquake, when we are forced to be fully present, confronted with the undeniable truth that we have no control over the grand design of Mother Nature and her power over our lives. And yet, ironically, it’s in these moments that we feel most vulnerable that we are most truly alive. Whether it’s the quiet resolve to evacuate calmly during an earthquake and walk the six miles home through a locked-down city and 100-degree heat, or the numbing sting of warm blood slowly gushing from your split lip and skull after your partner hurls his phone at you with all his strength and anger, or the sharp realization, mid-spin, that you’ve torn your ACL again, defending a point in a game of twenty-one that ultimately doesn’t matter.

Or maybe it’s in the quiet moments of love and reflection… when, well after the time in his life he “needs” you, you sit on the corner of your only child’s bed, watching over him while he sleeps. Or that one conversation with your sister, where you finally realize you have so much more in common than not, and instantly feel a deeper sense of love and appreciation for her and all that she’s experienced. Or maybe it’s in those final moments holding your soul dog, watching her breathing slow and eyes drift close, as the pain finally leaves her old, broken-down body, and thanking her for the strength she gave you, day after day, especially on the days you felt your presence didn’t matter. These are the experiences that may seem trivial or unjustified in the moment, but ultimately impact us in the greatest way.

Even hours after the earthquake, traffic was at a standstill and the streets were flooded with people avoiding buildings amidst the threat of aftershocks.

One of the three floor-to-ceiling cracks in my condo, this one on the exterior wall of the building.

Most of us, myself included, are always chasing something bigger: escaping the monotony, searching for a grander purpose, experiencing life’s biggest moments, finally reaching those long-unattained goals. As if these are the only threads that weave together a life well-lived. But somewhere in the chaos and exhaustion of the last few days, I realized that life isn’t just made of milestones. It’s most meaningful in the day-to-day: it’s the small wins, the big setbacks, and the endless redirections that not only make up our lives but keep us living them. These are the moments that strip us down to our core and remind us what it truly means to exist. Because it’s in these instances when life feels most fleeting, most fragile, that we are truly alive.

And it is for these moments that I am most grateful. Even as the feeling of uncontrollable shaking weakens, as the scars heal, as we inevitably resume our search for greater meaning, open our hearts to a new furbaby, or feel our fears become distant memories, these are the experiences, both the ones we choose, and the ones that choose us, that have the greatest impact. Because the truth is, when these moments pass, they don’t just disappear; they shape us, define us, and remind us of what truly matters. And sometimes, it takes the ground shaking beneath our feet to remind us just how fragile, unpredictable, and precious those moments truly are.

Right now, communities in Myanmar, the epicenter of Friday’s quake, are reeling from unimaginable devastation. In a country that was already struggling, families have lost everything: homes, livelihoods, and, most tragically, loved ones.

If you’re able, please consider donating to Project Hope’s relief efforts in Myanmar. Every contribution, no matter the size, can provide shelter, food, and critical aid to those who need it most.

Because in times like these, when life is at its most fragile, the greatest thing we can do is show up for one another.