One foot in front of the other, I opened my eyes and my ears. I listened to the whispering mantras and prayer bells- just taking it all in as I walked. One of the first things I noticed about doing something by myself-for myself for once, is that I was truly free to observe without interruption. I haven't always liked this idea--the Buddhist mentality of letting go of all control to find "enlightenment." I always thought that was a tad too crunchy for me. Their whole thing is centered around the idea that there is no certainty in life. In fact they'd even say there are no real ideas. Everything is a continuance of mystery. And maaaaybe that’s kind of true. But for me the trick is to be aware without being in control. I guess I wasn’t quite ready for enlightenment. Luckily there is no cell service, so you are stuck with your mind. It’s both scary and freeing and the yaks start to look like appealing friends to chat with along the way. Yes, they are adorable.
I do really like the idea of checking out though. Having the presence and awareness to understand that letting go of control once in awhile is beneficial to the other side of life. The idea of totally closing my eyes started to grow on me. And I truly started coming up with my own mantras as I let go.
Moving without thinking. Jaun jaun, "let's go" as the Nepali say. I hiked up a few meters and was met by a view that overwhelmed me. It was probably the most overwhelming joy I had felt in a long time. It’s not like reading a book about someone else’s experience. Even as I write this to share my experience, I realize that accomplishing small goals or large goals… It’s a secret pact to keep going, between you and-well, you. I stopped to do a few yoga poses and “fly” as I like to say. My heart was beating and I could really feel the moment. The backdrop was so surreal despite the fact that I really was on top of the world. After the fact, reliving the moment at the end of the day I realized I had handed it over to my subconscious with the knowledge that whatever was going on in that moment was truly right and that I was going down the right path.
But back to reality and the trek. The Everest base camp route has a ton of switch backs on the way to Tengboche. We only got to 3876m or 12,900ft, but the views were perfect and I caught myself repeatedly just letting go and zoning out.
We headed up the steep ridge and climbed up to Tengboche, passing more yaks and Nepalese on their way to market. As we passed the tree line, Everest appeared clear next to Ama Dablam. Once I got to a flat section of the ridge, I took a break with a passing sherpa and he poured me some hot lemon water. I just sat and closed my eyes and recalled everything I had just experienced. Before getting to this point, I wouldn't let myself do something unless I knew I could explain it or there was an exit plan. But when I finally let go, on this wide expansive mountain range, I let the explanation come later and damned if it didn’t feel amazing.
Anyway, we made it to Tengboche and then sat through a painful 108-minute ceremony of chanting, horn blowing and incense in a freezing (and I do mean FREEZING), cold monastery. When you think of meditation and how difficult it is to simply not think of anything, I bet you don’t realize that these monks sit cross legged on mats in negative temperatures. I get cold when it dips below 50! At the end of their prayers and what felt like days of chanting, a monk came by with the Nepali version of a Kit K.at bar which I figured was a reward for toughing it out. I guess they use positive reinforcement too, haha!
I spent the night with every piece of clothing I brought on my body and still didn’t get much sleep. The walls of this structure are paper thin drywall, but waking up to the drums and chants of a monastery was pretty damn cool. The idea of some tea to warm me up sounded like enough motivation to attempt to use my fingers. The alarm went off at 6am with long beats of the drum and the monks chanting. It's time to get moving. Out my window is Everest in all her glory, front and center. Every part of my body is cold but the view that morning superseded everything.
We headed out at 8am. As we climbed above the tree line, the landscape changed from a forest of pine and juniper trees to an endless garden of rock and sand. Crossing over the Dude Kosi on ice laden metal slats made by locals, we climbed up and then descended in a pattern. The acclimatization to 14.6k ft is a process and there is a lot of up and down. The rule of thumb when you're trekking is to climb high and sleep low or a hazy fog can get you. Basically you do a lot of backtracking to make sure your body adjusts. Maybe it's just a mind fuck. It certainly feels like one. But honestly when you’ve come this far, you just realize that nothing in your head is going to stop you and therein lies the danger of Everest.