“Just as a white summer cloud, in harmony with heaven and earth freely floats in the blue sky from horizon to horizon following the breath of the atmosphere- in the same way the pilgrim abandons (herself) to the breath of the greater life that…leads (her) beyond the farthest horizons to an aim which is already present within (her), though yet hidden from (her) sight.”
Lama Govinda
The Way of the White Clouds
Why did I want to write a blog?? I ask myself. Oh yeah, to stay connected, share the gems of my experience, stoke my writing fire, and – though this was revealed to me only recently – I thought it would give some legitimacy to this journey. The fates have had it that I have not been able to access my blog site until now, which has turned out to be a blessing. It has given me time to reflect on what is entailed in writing a blog. I realize that I am still digesting much of what has happened, and rather than write about it, which if I do, I want to do well, which takes time, I would rather stay present to what is currently happening and write when I am moved to do so. Given that, I am not sure how often I will post, however for now I at least want to follow through with sharing a few reflections to honor my intention and commitment as well as your reading and support. I imagine that eventually I will record my experiences more fully, just not sure I like the blog thing, especially given the accompanying technological challenges.
There are so many mundane details to share – amusing, challenging and illuminating – that would take many pages, like the German man who just sat down next to me in the computer room where I am staying at a guesthouse in UlanBatar, Mongolia, who told me he just went to the store to buy yogurt and after taking a bite realized he had bought candle wax. Or the way my face is breaking out like a teenager — it is a wonder what not showering for a week will do while eating strange and sweet bready foods under stress. Or the Buriat woman on the train who gave me a manicure in return for listening and reflecting on a powerful dream she had, and wanted me to listen to her favorite song… who puts her headphones on me and one of my very favorite songs comes on – “To Build a Home” by the Cinematic Orchestra – a song I first heard in the documentary film “The Horse Boy” about a journey to Mongolia (also one of my favorite films). Or, speaking of songs, going into a restaurant after visiting an intense and beautiful memorial site in Belarus, in a bit of overwhelm, and Andrea Bocelli, my grandfathers favorite, is playing.
And then there are the thoughts that are percolating in me around globalization, traditional cultures, social and environmental justice. The proposed nuclear site in Belarus where people are still dealing with the fall out from Chernobyl. The proposed oil pipeline through Lake Baikal in southern Siberia- the largest and deepest lake in the world which holds 1/5 of the worlds fresh water supply and is considered by some a birth place of shamanism. The gold mining in Mongolia, the political situation with China, the high rate of cancer. The waters, the air, the earth, energy. And the strength of spirit in the local activists in all these areas.
And then yes, all of the personal revelations – being pushed to my edges of discomfort, feeling lost not knowing the language of a place, facing my inner colonizer… to name a few.
So… yes, I am in Mongolia! I arrived yesterday after a six day ride on the Trans-Siberian railway. I am in the capital, UlanBataar, staying at a guesthouse in the city center. I have only seen a bit of the city as I have been busy taking care of travel details- updating my credit card pin, getting an international SIM card, etc. It is a strange blend of modern and ancient. An elder in traditional clothing in the bustling apple store. Classily dressed women. Industry. Large soviet block style apartment buildings adjacent to ger communities on the outskirts of town. Horns honking. Breaks squealing. Most people moving very fast and efficiently, some moving slowly, deliberately. Those from the country not following any of the pedestrian traffic rules. Lattes. Cell phones. Very little violence.
The day after tomorrow I go to an area a few hundred kilometers from the capital with a small group of people from around the world who were here for a conference on Tibetan and Mongolian Buddhist Studies. I am very happy to have been invited to come along by Vesna Wallace, a professor at UCSB, and begin my time in Mongolia with folks who know their way around! Then, gods willing, I will head north to the reindeer people and then west to the Altai.
So dear people, thank you for reading. Along with this post, I will also add two pieces I have already written, one about my time in Belarus and one about the Trans-Siberian Rail. I am finding my way with the written word even as I reflect on why write.
‘Ba yar la’: (phonetic writing of ‘thank you’ in Mongolian)
(While on the train I dreamt that I was encouraging a woman very dear to my heart to write a piece called “Confessions of a Perfectionist”; I do not know how to place the photos where I want them… I know good blogs are only supposed to be 500 words, etc…
(Photos: train station at the border of Russia and Mongolia; apple store in UB)
Tracking Destiny 