As I travel from one destination to another on my pilgrimage to India, there is a transition period in each place to adjust and to accommodate - to the mood, the pace, the people, the climate and the food. I am now in the North in a place called Tso Pema (Rewalsar in Hindi). It’s tucked away in the foothills of the Himalayas. From my new room this morning, I captured this picture of the mountains in the distance. I am heading that way soon for a week-long silent retreat under the guidance of Tenzin Palmo, a British-born Tibetan nun who has opened a convent for young Tibetan girls to study and practice the dharma in preparation for their own ordination.

For this week, I have had to make some big adjustments, primarily because i have been in the South for the last month where the weather was 30 degrees; in Tso Pema, the temperature goes down to 0 degrees in the early morning. I had booked a homestay in Tso Pema prior to coming. Once I had arrived at the house, the family was not home. I’d had another challenging over-night bus from Delhi. I will not go into all the details, but if you are planning a trip to India, take a government HRTC bus North, not just some random tour bus). I was so very fortunate (indeed, I’ve been throughout this trip to India) to meet yet another wonderful human being who came to my service. This young, well-educated man D.J. had just come home for a fortnight. He had been living with his wife in China as researchers and has just secured a position at the University of Alberta in Canada (where i was raised). My, such a small world. He came to my assistance, saying it was his duty, touching my feet in respect of his elders, and taking my heavy pack to walk through the village in search of a new accommodation.

I began my week tucked into the top floor of the Lotus Lake Hotel. The windows overlooked the lake where I could watch the Tibetans make their prayer rounds day and night. The village is small and, like all destinations in India, noisy and busy. This is perhaps what I find most challenging while being in India; the noise has been completely unsettling at times, and the wild animals wander everywhere, like they own the streets. Here in Tso Pema the animals occupy the small dirt streets with verve. The monkeys are cunning, and have now grabbed my satchel and have made off with my newly bought bunch of bananas. I watched them eat the bananas greedily, without any concern for my loss, other than for what else there might be. After four evenings at the Lotus Lake Hotel, it was not only chilly facing North, I could not sleep. The dogs run the streets at night to defend their territory, and the noise became unbearable.

I consider the Kora, the circle around the lake where the Tibetans walk, not only a place for their prayers but also it is within this circle that they also leave their fears, their anger, their joy and their own inner conflicts. I cannot help but observe that underneath this heavenly village where three religions co-exist (Buddhism, albeit a philosophy), Sikhism and Hinduism, there is tension. I pay attention to this.

I have met a few Westerners since having arrived; one particular man, from Poland, shared with me that he felt more emotional while here. I can agree with this since having arrived I have begun a different kind of journey than that I experienced in the South. I have begun to unravel some of my pain body. I have begun to unravel some of the reasons that I have come to India in the first place. I am grateful for these insights. I walk the Kora daily, then with the Tibetans. I turn the prayer wheels. I share in their joy and their grief. I acknowledge and share in my own joy and grief. May we be happy, may we be free, may we be free of suffering.