Return To Tengboche…

On November 20, 2021 By Mick CanningIn Buddhism, Himalaya, Nepal, Tengboche, travel28 Comments

…but not literally, unfortunately. I did say I would re-post another travel post from some while back, so here it is.

Four years ago I wrote four short posts about Tengboche. Here I’ve combined them into a single post and added some extra pictures and text to give a little more information about this lovely place.

Tengboche is a monastery complex and a couple of trekking lodges at 3860m on the route up to Everest Base Camp from Lukla, in Nepal. It sits high above the waters of the Dudh Khosi, the rapidly flowing river than runs alongside much of the Everest Trail.

The monastery complex. On arrival in the afternoon, the clouds are low. This seems to be the pattern most days – clear mornings and then the clouds coming in early afternoon. In a general sense, weather patterns in the Himalaya – certainly in some parts, and probably at certain times of the year – can be quite predictable. When I trekked the Annapurna Circuit, for example, we were told one evening that around ten o’clock the next morning there would be strong winds blowing in the valley we were to follow, because that was what happened every day. And blow they did. At ten o’clock.

From inside the monastery grounds. The monastery is a Tibetan Buddhist complex, liberally decorated with the pictures, statues, and symbols to be found in every such place.

Inside Tengboche monastery following a puja (ceremony).

Rightly or wrongly, I don’t like taking photographs of pujas in monasteries. It feels intrusive and bad mannered. I would feel the same in a church, mosque or temple. This has nothing to do with any beliefs of my own, but is born of simple respect.

I noted in my diary: We have just sat in on a chanting puja, but my meditation failed dismally. I was completely unable to concentrate on my breath as all that I could think of were my freezing feet!

It was blooming cold!

This view must have been photographed so many times, but how fantastic is it? Sunset on Everest (left) and Nuptse (right), photographed from Tengboche. This was taken on my third visit; the other two times the clouds failed to clear in the evening, so this was an unexpected treat.

And this is the same view in the morning – but with the addition of Ama Dablam on the right of the picture. Ama Dablam is possibly my favourite mountain; the classic ‘mountain-shaped’ mountain, similar to the Matterhorn.

Close-up of window showing the dawn chorus orchestra.

We were awoken in the mornings by the harsh notes of conch shells and the clashing of symbols. This was part of the morning puja, rather than a summons for coffee and porridge. It does make for an excellent alarm call, though.

We Do Violence

On February 9, 2021 By Mick CanningIn poetry, writing8 Comments

Yay! Day seven of my Poem-A-Day-For-A-Week-Or-So project. I’m jolly impressed I got this far, although I say so myself. And I’m quite pleased with this one. Although, like all the others, it’ll benefit from some work on it later.

We Do Violence

We all occupy two places simultaneously:

Wherever we happen to be in the physical world,

And wherever we currently inhabit in our heads.

The trick is to get the two to coincide.

We interpret our landscape as we walk,

Inflicting our thoughts upon it, changing it,

Or at the very least changing our perceptions of it,

Rather than being truly open to the experience.

To achieve that, like a meditation

We need to let go of our thoughts.

And the worst of these interpretations,

Is this absurd need to name everything.

We begin to only look for particular things.

And filter out those we cannot name.

We do violence to the landscape in this way,

Subverting it from what it is, to what we wish it to be.

We need to listen to the landscape in silence,

undistracted by thoughts or by words.

Words are, at best, a poor substitute for things.

As soon as we name a thing, we claim it as our own.

We limit it to our own understanding, and we dilute it,

By placing it in the company of other things

That we name the same. It is akin to taking away the

Individual names of people and referring to them all as person.

The Old Way 2

On March 10, 2019 By Mick CanningIn poetry, The Old Way, writing10 Comments

This is the second poem in a series of six.

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The Old Way 2

I’m walking along the Old Way,

And I exult.

Nowhere else are roads so gentle beneath my feet.

Nowhere else would I find the path before me

So soft, and sprinkled with stars.

Let me stop for a moment and close my eyes.

Let me just be still and silent

And feel the ground beneath my feet.

I must connect, or re-connect, with the world.

With my world.

Here, I can feel the past as a living thing,

And like a meditation,

I can use this

To still my troubled mind.

The Old Way 2

On March 10, 2019March 10, 2019 By Mick CanningIn poetry, The Old Way, writingLeave a comment

This is the second poem in a series of six.

128a

The Old Way 2

I’m walking along the Old Way,

And I exult.

Nowhere else are roads so gentle beneath my feet.

Nowhere else would I find the path before me

So soft, and sprinkled with stars.

Let me stop for a moment and close my eyes.

Let me just be still and silent

And feel the ground beneath my feet.

I must connect, or re-connect, with the world.

With my world.

Here, I can feel the past as a living thing,

And like a meditation,

I can use this

To still my troubled mind.

Winter – a Tanka

On December 19, 2018 By Mick CanningIn Haiku, poetry, tanka, winter, writing33 Comments

I was writing a haiku yesterday, and decided to go the extra mile with it. Traditionally in Japan these poems were sometimes written in the form of tanka, which are essentially poems of five lines rather than three, with a syllable count of 5/7/5/7/7.

They could also be written as linked verse, with one or two poets writing haiku, and others supplying the two remaining lines between each haiku.

I’ve gone down the linked verse route, and also given myself the remit that each verse (of two or three lines) must contain a word or sentiment linking it to those either side – something that was also commonly done.

Yesterday was cold and miserable, hence the results.

It’s my first attempt – please don’t be too harsh!

029

The flowers have gone.

Crumbling stems standing askew,

In waterlogged soil.

Outlined against the grey sky,

Old willows by the stream.

Ten thousand leaves are

All that remain of autumn.

Wistful nostalgia.

Memories of warmer days,

Are all but forgotten now.

Wrapped up warm and snug,

Watching the grey willows weep.

Hands in my pockets.

Leaves fall slowly through the air,

Onto silent black waters.

Now a gust of wind

Swirls leaves around and around.

Racing each other.

Shifting clouds race overhead,

Sudden drizzle on the breeze.

Spiteful winter day,

Grasses shiver in the wind.

Low sunlight dazzles.

Walking in meditation,

Clouds unexpectedly clear.

Sudden bright sunshine

Reminds me the cold Winter,

Will change into Spring.

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Sound The Retreat!

On August 20, 2018August 26, 2018 By Mick CanningIn anxiety, retreat24 Comments

My reader will probably not be too surprised to learn that I have been on retreats a couple of times.

After all, someone who gripes about the rush and noise and pressures of the modern world, and who has anxiety issues, tends to spend quite a lot of time yearning for silence and solitude. Because there are, quite frankly, times when everything just gets too much to cope with.

Obviously there are many ways this might be achieved; perhaps I could commit a serious crime and then misbehave in gaol – that would probably lead to a good long spell in solitary, although I can think of several reasons why this might not be the ideal solution.

I could lock myself in a room and refuse to come out – from experience, though, that just leads to unpleasantness and tears. It worked tolerably well when I was a child, but as an adult I can see why it might not look so good.

Whenever I get the opportunity I go for a long walk. Unfortunately, if it is near my home I tend to be surrounded by dogs and dog walkers – not that’s there’s anything wrong with them, I hasten to add, but it’s hardly peaceful. There are several dog owners around here whose voices can not only be heard several counties away because of the sheer volume, but can also smash windows by pitch alone. And I soon get back to roads and so-called civilisation, no matter which route I take.

Then there are lots of other walkers bellowing into mobile phones: ‘Yes, it’s lovely and peaceful out here! Now, let me just yell a few personal and private details at you and anyone else within earshot! What? Yes, I’m still a complete tosser! Why do you ask?’

Going further afield takes more time, and that’s no good if I need a quick fix of silence, so generally I’m stuck with the dog walkers and the tossers.

So, retreats. Other than the meaning of legging it from a superior military force, a retreat is defined as withdrawing to a quiet / peaceful place. There is also the implication of it being a place to indulge in contemplation.

Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind. Don’t mind if I do.

My first retreat was at an abbey not terribly far from where I live. Although I am not a Christian, I enjoyed a short week of taking quiet walks in the grounds of the abbey and the countryside beyond, reading, rising early and taking a silent breakfast with the monks, and even attending one of the services each day.

foxglove

Some of the time I spent painting watercolours which I have long lost. Since at least one was of foxgloves, here’s a photo of some just so you can imagine how incredibly good the paintings were!

The other retreat was in the North of England, and consisted of a week-long period of meditation with a Buddhist group. This was very hard work, but I did finish the week feeling refreshed.

Of course, it is perfectly possible to organise one’s own retreat by finding somewhere quiet and secluded and staying put for a week or however long one fancies (a year, perhaps?).

Perhaps I should do that soon.

In Between

On December 2, 2017 By Mick CanningIn meditation, peace, poetry, writing17 Comments

In Between

IMGP2317

Somewhere in between

The in breath,

And the out breath,

Is silence.

Therein,

There lies a tiny death.

The death of desire,

When time stops

It is

The fleetest of moments,

A tiny eternity

Of peace.

Tengboche – 1

On November 26, 2017 By Mick CanningIn Buddhism, Nepal, photographs, travel16 Comments

Tengboche is a monastery complex and a couple of trekking lodges on the route up to Everest Base Camp from Lukla, in Nepal. It sits high above the waters of the Dudh Khosi.

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