I’ve become lackadaisical about updating this blog; maybe
I’m just not cut out for the blogging world.
Jury’s still out.
The past few weeks have marked a lot of firsts. I had my first motorbike ride in India and
then my first motorbike accident (very small, not even a scratch). My first attempt at acrobatic yoga – Google
it, it’s awesome - and Thai massage. My
first trip to Tso Morirri, which resulted in my first time pushing the broken
down truck up a mountain road, my first ride in the back of a cargo truck
driven madly by monks, my first taste of salty high alpine Ladakhi lake water,
my first time sitting on a beach this summer, and the origins of a mysterious
cough I cannot seem to get ride of. Last
week also marked the beginnings of my data entry and report writing – thrilling
stuff. I had my first facial, tried many
different traditional Ladakhi foods for the first time, and saw my first herd
of Ladakhi Urial. So many, many firsts
as of late. These new experiences have
been refreshing as the weight of the failure and difficulties of this project
and organization have, at moments, been grim to bear.
Oh and one unfortunate second – bed bugs! While visiting villages in Sham Valley, Angmo
and I had some unexpected visitors.
Caitlin – if you’re reading this – THEY’RE BACK and in India! The middle of the night paranoia has returned,
damn. So far in the last two months I
have shared my bed with rats and bed bugs.
Definitely not welcome guests.
Despite multiple set backs, I’m still enjoying my little
home here in Ladakh. I have a feeling I
will dearly miss things here once I return.
In the mornings, I have developed a routine of hiking up to a place
where you have an amazing view of the peaks and the town of Leh. Its incredibly peaceful and I enjoy my
meditations with Oswald, Kahlil, or St. John of the Cross. Different spiritual guides for different
days. I have also taken to collecting
fallen Tibetan prayer flags on my daily meditative hikes. Prayer flags are hung everywhere in Ladakh
and its beautiful to see them strung about the mountains signifying important
Buddhist spiritual places. While I love
seeing them soaring as flags are meant to soar, for whatever reason I find the
fallen, broken ones more beautiful. I
suppose I have some proclivity towards fallen, broken things. But there is something bittersweet –
redemptive, maybe? - about collecting fallen prayers.
It’s amazing how time has moved here – already near the end
of July! But so many friends, emotions,
and experiences have come and gone. I
can only hope to be a changed woman from all of it. In fact that’s become a constant prayer in my
meditations. Oh! I love ch-ch-ch-changes,
who would ever want to stay exactly the same?
That’s the gift of time, I suppose.
Just like Bowie says ‘turn and face the strange.’
I do believe my thoughts here are more than scattered – I
apologize for the current state of my mental environment!
Kirk out.
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