Trekking the Path

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER 1

The Beginning

As with any journey of exploration, either spiritual or physical, it all starts with that very first step. Sometimes this first step is voluntary; sometimes it is accidental and sometimes you are pushed. This is the story of my own experience as a reluctant trekker on the path. In this context, the path, I describe is both spiritual and physical as will be seen as the story unfolds. Both paths intertwine and both were undertaken with reluctance. There are parallels with both journeys. One path started in India many years ago, and after 30 years it isn’t finished yet. The more recent one was also undertaken in India, in the form of a trek across the Himalayas through Kashmir, Zanskar and Ladakh and ending in Himachal Pradesh.

So why write about two journeys? From my own perspective the similarities between them were remarkable, both were arduous and both were taken with an element of reluctance and scepticism. Yet as both journeys unfolded, there were lessons to be learned, issues to be resolved, obstructions to be overcome and prejudices to be confronted. The world as we view it, (both mental and physical), is not necessarily as concrete as we think it is, we have preconceived ideas and in-built reactions to situations based upon years of habitual response.

We seem to make the same mistakes over and over again as our patterns of behaviour are repeated over and over again, and as we slip and slide along the path it often seems that we have little control over our so called destiny, yet there are moments throughout our lives where there is clarity, direction and control and just as we think everything is going smoothly, that great cosmic boot kicks us in the butt and we sit there dazed and confused wondering what on Earth we did wrong. I shall attempt here to describe my own journey of spiritual adventure as well as my reluctant wandering across the vast Himalayas, by drawing parallels and sharing the experiences, successes and failures, I try to make some sense of it all.

I would probably describe myself as, ‘the worlds worst Buddhist’, because spiritually my path is based upon the teachings of the Buddha, however, putting these teachings into practice is not easy and I fail miserably at times, yet for me, it is not so much about failure, but more of a learning experience. You can’t learn to ride a bicycle without falling off and even when you are an accomplished cyclist, you will still get hit by the cosmic boot, but you get back on and persevere, albeit bruised and battered.

I am not suggesting for one second that I am in any way an accomplished practitioner, but I am a practitioner of sorts and the journey along the path is worth sharing in the hope that it will bring some benefit to living beings, O.K. maybe not all, but that is the aspiration, cosmic boot not withstanding. Using my journey across the Himalayas, along with what little Buddhist philosophy I have learned over the past 30 years, there are incredible parallels and lessons to be learned, more importantly perhaps, how to put into every-day practice, the principals of Buddhist philosophy that will hopefully make our transit through life happier, more relaxed and stable rather than crashing along, experiencing the extremes of ecstasy and depression, love and hatred, like and dislike, in fact all the elements that cause us suffering.

Of course, it would be naïve to think, or even assume, that by reading through my own experiences you will never again suffer, suffering is a part of life as I will attempt to explain later, but as the Buddha described 2500 years ago, there is suffering, there is a cause to suffering and there is the ability to prevent suffering by following a specific path. This philosophy is known as the Four Noble Truths, more of which will be explained later.

My journey across the great Himalayan range was definitely in the category of that, ‘pushed’, first step. I was definitely over-estimating my abilities and under-estimating my resolve. My first and only trekking experience was in 2006 in Nepal, a relatively short amble from Pokhara to Poon Hill comprising of 5 days in total. Looking back in comparison to trekking across Zanskar, it was a walk in the park, although at the time I recall it was hard, extremely tiring and accompanied by much swearing and ill tempered behaviour interspersed with moments of ecstatic accomplishment as, yet another arduous clamber up an impossibly steep hill was completed.

I guess I should have left it at that, but our memory is short and selective and after the passing of time we only recall the good bits and forget the bad. I definitely forgot the bad bits and finally succumbed to my girl-friends request to go on a, ‘real’, trek, (Poon Hill was for pussies!) with real high altitude mountain passes, rugged trails, boulder fields, (at the time I hadn’t a clue what a boulder field was – although one can work it out from its rather emphatic title) river crossings and shale slopes. There would be camping in a tent (I hadn’t done that since my military days 40 years ago!) eating outdoors, bathing in rivers and walking….lots of walking…huge amounts of it in fact, mainly uphill and of course downhill, but very little on the flat. It all sounded very adventurous, very ermm, ‘outdoor’.

The trek would be in two stages starting in Pahalgam, Kashmir, comprising a six day trek through the Kashmir valley ending in Sonemarg. Then a twelve hour jeep ride to Padhum in the remote Zanskar valley. From Padhum a ten day trek over nine, high altitude, passes to Lamayuru in Ladakh. From Lamayuru another jeep to Leh, the capital of Ladakh followed by a two day bus journey across the highest road in the world to Manali. Finally another bus from Manali back to Dharamsala in Himachal Pradesh where I currently chose to live. It all sounded, ‘interesting’, my enthusiasm being slightly tempered by my inbuilt hatred of physical exercise in any shape or form. However, not wanting to end up a complete blob, I decided, with some reluctance, to accept the challenge and so, armed with a brand new rucksack, sleeping bag, Ipod (well one has standards after all), trusty old hiking boots, (that actually fell apart halfway across the Himalayas), various items of warm clothing, thermal underwear and a walking stick, the adventure would begin on the 23rd August 2007.

The other journey started 26 years earlier in Goa whilst undertaking another voyage of personal discovery. I won’t elaborate too much about that here, suffice to say I ended up, as did any traveller of note in the 80’s, in Calangute south Goa. I had rented a modest little hut on the beach.

One evening whilst walking along the beach at sunset, I happened upon a small Tibetan restaurant. I cannot recall what I ordered, but I do remember clearly the events of that night. On the wall of the restaurant was a picture of a Buddhist monk, his wonderful smile seemed to gaze directly at me from the picture itself. I remember asking the young Tibetan waiter who it was in the picture. He told me with some surprise that this was, of course, a picture of His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, the spiritual and political leader of the Tibetan people living in exile in Dharamsala, Northern India.

At the time I was completely ignorant as to all things Buddhist or Tibetan, but something inside of me wanted to know more, the waiter told me that if I really wanted to learn more about His Holiness, Tibetans and Buddhism, there was a young Tibetan man living in the forest, he was an ex-monk who had himself escaped the Chinese occupation of Tibet and had given up his robes to help many other Tibetans escape across the Himalayas to India. The waiter assured me that this man spoke good English and that he would be able to tell me more. I finished my meal and headed back to my hut on the beach. Upon arriving back I realised I had forgotten completely about the waiters recommendation and had not taken either the Tibetan mans name or details of where he lived.

That evening I sat in my hut and was attempting to play an Indian drum called a Tabla. Being a musician of sorts my sense of rhythm was quite good even if my skills were limited. As I beat out a steady rhythm on the Tabla, I heard the distant sound of a flute. The flute appeared to be playing in time with my rhythm and as I changed the pattern, so the flute accompanied the beat. The sound of the flute was hypnotic; a deep resonant sound that grew louder as the player approached my hut. Eventually the playing stopped and there was a bang on my door. Surprised at the late hour, I opened the door and there stood a tall young Tibetan man, his long jet black hair hung loosely down to his waist. He wore a sarong and traditional Tibetan shirt and held a large bamboo flute.

‘Hi, I’m Nawang’, he chimed in accented English, ‘you the guy who wants to know about Buddhism?’ he asked as if it were the most natural question in the world.

His full name was Nawang Kechog and although I had no idea who this young man was, I invited him in to my hut and we sat and talked virtually all night long, that encounter lasted five days. We sat and talked non stop, occasionally breaking for sleep and food. He told me about the plight of his people, about the atrocities the Chinese inflicted upon the Tibetans, the massacres, the torture, the imprisonment without trial, the relentless hostility towards religious freedom and horrendous breaches of human rights. It was a horror story almost too unbelievable to absorb in this so called enlightened age. He told me about the escape of His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama from Tibet, the government in exile in Dharamsala and, most importantly, he taught me the basics of Buddhist philosophy, starting with the Four Noble Truths, the law of Karma and the Buddhist view of reality. It was an amazing experience and despite his broken English,

Nawang was a good teacher with a clear understanding of Buddhism and he had a wonderful ability to be able to communicate the philosophy articulately. Nawang became a very dear friend and I am still in communication with him to this day. He now lives in the USA and is a very famous flautist having made many recordings and played with many famous artists throughout the world.

I am forever indebted to Nawang for the time he took and his concise explanation of Buddhist philosophy. From that moment onward, although perhaps I didn’t realise it at the time, I had stepped onto the path and have been walking it ever since. It was Nawang that suggested to me that I visit Dharamsala and that I should request a personal audience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Shortly after that encounter, I left Goa and headed North to Simla and then onward to Dharamsala and eventually McLeod Ganj. I stayed in a small guest house with a Tibetan family in McLeod Ganj and shortly after my arrival made my way to the residence of His Holiness.

I knocked on the main door, which was opened by a monk dressed in bright saffron robes. I told him that I wished an audience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama if it were possible and that I had been recommended by Nawang Kechog. Looking back at events, it all sounds rather unfeasible now, after all who was I? A complete nobody, requesting to see a living Buddha! Never the less I was told to come back the following day when I would be able to see His Holiness. These days this would be almost impossible, I have since managed to be part of a public audience, but personal audiences are extremely rare indeed, I can not believe how fortunate I was at the time.

The Tibetan family that I stayed with were completely in awe that I was to meet with His Holiness and they told me what a great honour this was and what wonderful Karma I must have to be able to have this opportunity. They also insisted that I learn how to offer a Kata. A Kata is a traditional Tibetan offering of a white silk scarf, which is offered by hand. The scarf is rolled in a specific way so as to sit across the hands. When offered, the scarf is allowed to unfold and then it is handed to the recipient, if this is a Lama, the scarf is then placed back over your