“Going slowly, slowly,”our Nepali guide, Jetha, said each morning as we set out for our daily trek.
Life has a way of revealing lessons when we need them the most if we are present and reflective enough to notice them.
Lately, I have found myself in a space of anticipation. I’ve always liked change and transition. I find the shifts in life’s circumstances and the opportunity for a fresh start exciting. As my days in India become fewer and this phase of my life draws to an end, much of my energy has been focused on the future: planning, preparing, dreaming. I find myself counting the months, the weeks, the days, sometimes willing the hours to move faster, impatient for this next adventure to start.
“Going slowly, slowly.”
Tiffany and I spent spring break trekking in Nepal. It was absolutely indescribable, quite possibly one of the most incredible trips I have ever taken. We spent eight days in the Everest region of Nepal, passing through quaint villages, sipping honey lemon ginger tea (which may or may not have been spiked with Fireball), listening for the jingling bells of lumbering yaks and mules, passing always clockwise around stupas and stones carved with the Buddhist mantra “om mani pad me hum,” and admiring the breathtaking views that surrounded us.
Mountains have a way of humbling you. The Himalayas won’t let you rush. Altitude demands you slow down, proceed one step at a time, one breath at a time. The landscape begs you to look up and take in the majesty of what surrounds you.
One morning, we stopped to visit Lama Geshe, the high lama (Buddhist leader) of the Khumbu Valley, at his monastery outside of Panboche. He is known for offering blessings to climbers on their way to summit Mount Everest, known locally as Sagarmatha, “Mother of the Universe.” He has a wall covered with signed photographs of climbers who had summited the tallest mountain on Earth. We were fortunate enough to witness a group of local sherpas receive a blessing before assisting an expedition of climbers to the summit. With the assistance of the Lama’s daughter who served as a translator for us, we received a blessing as well. Such a precious moment that I am so grateful to have paused for.
Often during the trek I found myself focused on my steps, keeping a slow and steady pace with the mantra of loving kindness and compassion “Om Mani Padme Hum,” which I recited silently to myself as I walked. My mind would wander from my steps to the future, to the past, and back to my steps. When I took the time to look up, to return to the present moment, and to take in what was right in front of me, time stopped. And it was beautiful.
I have less than two months left in India. While, yes, planning and preparation for the transition will be a necessary part of this time, I want to be intentional about stopping to look up, to cherish the details and the landscape of this moment. I don’t need to have everything accomplished all at once. Everything will come in its own time.
“Going slowly, slowly.”
julirae 