I have this dream since I was 18. I had dropped out of college and went climbing in Nepal. That trip and the hours I spent writing in my journal helped shape who I am today. It was on those steep slopes in the Himalayas, marveling at the easy laugh and smile of Nepalese people that I dreamed one day I too would have kids, and I would take them high into the Himalayas. I wanted to share the beauty of the frosty sunrises, the sense of awe and peace that comes by being surrounded by fading prayer flags and the warmth that is felt from a cup of sweet milk tea shared among friends and strangers. I wanted the share with them the mysteries and power of these people and these places.
Then life came, medical school, kids, jobs and before I knew it, they were 13 and 10, and that dream still sat in my diary waiting to be filled.
We decided on this year we would not go back to any place we had been before, but the Himalaya and the mountains called to me. Bhutan, a land of mystery and suspense opened its doors, and suddenly that dream had a chance of becoming a reality.
It is winter in Bhutan so the trekking is limited and the one overnight trek we could do would not be open much longer, so I was eager to head to the mountains. Traverse’s back was still recovering from the flights, and Lily wanted to just be in a home for a bit, so Isabelle and I packed every warm piece of clothing we brought, added a pair of wool socks and other hats and headed off for the hills.
Two days and 754 pictures later I left like life had come full circle. Watching and sharing with Isabelle these mountains that captured my heart long ago, it was if those dreams I had sketched out long ago took shape and came to life in technicolor before my eyes. The weekend was magical.
We trekked to a high camp at 12,000 feet and then back down through Tigers’ nest monasteries. Much like my time in Nepal, it was not the destination, but the journey that left me in awe.
After reaching camp, we had the afternoon to climb through another monastery perched on the rock face to the top of a peak over 13,000 feet and a holy place of sky burials. The sky burial site is covered with prayer flags, as is the ridgeline. It was traditionally a place where bodies of those who had died, especially children, were taken so the birds could carry their bodies and the God of Compassion could carry their souls to the afterlife. While today bodies are not brought here, the remains of those who died and prayer flags are still carried to this holy site to speed their transition to the afterlife.
Sitting, fully enveloped by the fading prayer flags in the setting sun looking across Tibet and Bhutan and holding my daughter is a moment I will never forget. My sister and those who have gone with the God of Compassion before me felt as present as the stone I sat on, still warm from the sun in the rapidly cooling air.
Isabelle was a sight to behold. She was enthralled, taking hundreds of pictures, stopping to look at every amazing rock, doing handstands and jumping from one high point to the next. Her love for this place, for the trek, for the adventure was more than I could have hoped for. As any parent knows, watching the wonder of the world through your child’s eyes is even brighter than seeing it yourself.
As we started our way back to camp in the fading last rays of the sun, the great harvest full moon began to rise from the Tibetan plateau and the world transformed into a glistening black and white landscape of dreams.
That evening we ate a huge meal, shared stories and adventures and then braved the cold of our bed at 12,000 feet. As Isabelle and I struggled to get warm under pounds of blankets, holding close, our “mountain babies” (warm water bottles) our laughter could not be contained. I feel asleep that night filled with contentment and a sense of perfection of dream realized, of life completing a circle.
The following day was filled with Tigers Nest monastery, chanting monks, meeting others from Alaska, kids playing with prayer wheels and so much more. I listened, laughed and learned, but the day was like a dream, colors and sounds and stories that overflowed my cup of appreciation. All I could do was taken in as much as I could feeling gratitude for such a full and wondrous life. I knew in my heart these mountains, smiles, and stories, much like when I visited them before will carry and inspire me for years to come. Like the mandalas telling the stories of these people and the circles of life, my journey had come full circle making me whole.
This, all this. The love and the joy of an amazing world shared with those I love.
She enjoyed the ride up ;-). I on the other hand questioned if we would live to get to the start of the trial because of the ice on the road with bald tires around mountain switch backs.
I was truly surprised to see a bear in monastery at the start of our trail.
The beautiful “old man’s beard” growing on giant Rhododendron at 12,000 feet were incredible. I kept imaging what this place would look like in the spring when they were all in bloom. I turned around to find her embracing them moss and the moment.
With our tents for the night in the background, we followed the prayer flags up the mountain to an active monastery in the rocks.
The dance between nature and humans is something I have always loved about so many ancient cultures. Many of these monasteries are built into rock face, this one was built in this spot because reportedly a deity walked and left 10,000 foot prints in the rock.
Taking in the view. It was if the mountains, the air, and the monastery all held us there between earth and sky.
Making our way up from the monastery to the sky burial we were loving the sun, the view and the prayers left to be silently heard. Seeing this through her eyes (and hands) made the whole place brighter.
It was as if this world and the next were tied together by these prayer flags- sending hopes and dreams to the sky with each passing gust of wind.
This is in the center of a ring of prayer flags at the sky burial atop the highest mountain around. Each passing moment the light hit the flags differently as the world turned, the sun set and the full moon rose. The place was alive with wonder.
The sun slowly dipping behind the peaks lighting everything with a warm fiery red glow.
Looking towards Tibet and marveling at how they got these larger prayer flags up here and keep them up through the changing seasons.
She was all smiles.
And I kept taking pictures as a way to hold onto this moment forever.
As the sun dipped below the mountains, I said goodby again to my sister Mary and to all those who left the world too soon.
And as I said goodbye to one life, I embraced the life before me sending love to those not with us.
The moon is always hard to capture on a phone camera, but this one was so big she was able to embrace it like the sun.
Headed down in the rapidly fading light surrounded by stones, set on end to remember the dead.
This child has found her wings and I love watching her fly.
“Mom, we have to stop and get another picture, the rock is amazing, this place is amazing” We later learned it was holy rock, in the shape of a lotus and a place of special worship on the mountain side.
Looking towards Tibet at the rising moon.
Full of life. Full of wonder.
And I kept taking pictures.
And more pictures.
Even when the sun was down, and it was all blurry, there was magic…
And wonder…
And the fading light reminded me of what is really important in this world.
As we came into camp, the sun was long gone and the full moon yet again transformed this landscape.
Goodnight moon. Goodnight stars. Goodnight tent. Goodnight bed. Goodnight world. Thankful for today.
When morning came, we woke up before dawn and watched the sunrise. (I will post the video next) and came back to camp for an outside breakfast to take in the day.
Children like prayer flags, take your hopes and dreams into the future.
Visiting every monastery on our way.
Head in to another holy site. The attention to detail on these doors and entrances is lovely.
And more smiles.
As we descended down down we started to see Tiger’s Nest Monastery, the most famous monastery in Bhutan peached on this rock cliff.
High above - taking it all in.
As we came down into the Tiger’s Nest monastery, we started to come across all the people who had come from the bottom. This is probably the most visited site in all of Bhutan, and even during this “off season” there were an impressive number of people.
If I were to build a holy place it would be like this. Breathtakingly peached in this rock ledge - balanced with the world.
No pictures were aloud inside - which is probably good or this blog post would never get done. It is actually 8 different and stunning temples inside. We spent about 2 hrs touring the inside and I could have spent a week. One of highlights for me however was the “tigress nest” on the inside. You climb down a series of ladders into a crack in the rock from one of the temples. It is there that the tigress reportedly slept and you can go out on a ledge where she would take off - the world a thousand feet below the cliff face. Probably 75% of the people in the temple where Bhutanese paying respect. Kids clambered though the temples, people prostrated them selfs in front of deities, monks mediated as small groups of tours were told the intricate stories of how the second coming of Buddha flew here on a Tigress and meditated for 3 years, 3 months and 3 days.
More prayer wheels and flags on the way down. These prayer wheels, filled with flags are made out of plastic painted bottles.
At the end of the trail with the main monastery on the upper right in the cliff and the other smaller one on the left.
A journey I will never forget as dreams came to life and prayers answered.