Pilgrimage rode to Lhasa, the Holy City in Tibet, is paved with reverence towards the Mother Nature, faith in life and love, sometimes with sacrifice and death.
My pilgrimage journey started from Nyingchi where was renowned as the ‘Second Heaven’. I came across a Tibetan grandma who was 62-year-old. An interleaved eye contact allowed us to read the peace and warmth in each other’s eyes. Right after the glance, we agreed to support each other in the following Pilgrimage. After two days crawling on the bumpy mountain road, my knees and hands began to bleed. Cold wind cut my face. Thirst tore my throat. Fatigue from every full-body prostration dragged me to the boundary of total collapse. Once the sun rose from the east, jumped came out between towering snow-capped mountains and shined over the Holy City, I always knew where I belonged.
Ordinary people questioned us and argued with such a nearly self-mutilation way on pilgrimage. I, a devout Buddhist, have donated my soul, my body and everything related to this mortal world to the Buddha, which will be memorized by every getting down on my knees, every stretching out, every prostration with full body, and every pressing face on the earth. Tribulation in this life redeems the sin in the past life and cumulates happiness for the next life. The hope for prosper and the universal love were melt in my every kneeling down and standing up, being purified and propagated and through the metempsychosis.
When the sun rose again from the skyline in the east, a ray beamed down upon her face, which was so peaceful, holy and serene that stood out from the crowded world. At that moment, I believed I saw the Buddha infused in her and smile at me. With a smile on my face, I left her sleep and got up to prepare a simple breakfast. After setting all staff ready, I tried to wake her up, which turned out to be impossible forever. She was dead and cold. She contributed her body to the vultures, to quicksand, to snow, to beautiful time in their lives, to the tortures they must have. She realized her dream with her passionate body lying peacefully in such harsh environment. An illusion suddenly hit me that she would wake up in a heaven so calm, so easy, so thorough and neat as if they just sleep.
Eagles will bring her to the sky and dignify her soul to heaven. Sand will slowly engulf her body. Her body was left here, but their souls continued the Samsara for the endless pursuit of holiness. Wiping off tears and holding my grief, what I needed to do was to leave her, leave her exactly what she was at that moment, and leave her to time and nature. What I took up was her blessing, her dream and her braveness to continue my journey to my heaven.
I persevered in moving forwards with mind steeled by the love and dream of this Tibetan grandma. On the pilgrimage road, I was not alone. A young mother carried her five children and this household had experienced…