At 5,200 feet, close to basecamp on the Tibetan side of Mount Everest, is a very small monastery. The highest in the world. After visiting the nearby viewpoint to see the mountain, most visitors go back to their black tents at our basecamp and simply pass this monastery. 

A fellow-traveler and I decided to stop at the monastery.  I climbed the stairs and sat for a while in some of the caves. Though no monastic was present, the burning of candles and incense, the statues and Tibetan scriptures indicated a few were surely here from time to time. 

Going outside again, we came to the place where  sky burials  were performed, surrounded by hundreds of colorful prayer flags. Apart from a slight breeze, it was utterly silent. My heart and mind also turned quiet. My friend stood some thirty meters away, on the other side of the rocky area where a body would be laid down. A few seconds later our eyes met, and without any words, we each simply knew we had experienced something similar — feeling no need to speak or go anywhere, calm and fully present with the mountains, the breeze, the clean air and the silence. My mind opened to the vastness while my heart embraced the interconnectedness and I felt every single breath. 

A similar experience arose some days later at a remote nunnery in the mountains, about an hour from Samye, the first monastery built in Tibet. A few nuns offered some Tibetan tea. And while I didn’t know any Tibetan at the time, and they didn’t know any other language, words were not needed. How much could be said, simply through silence, smiles, hand-gestures and sounds – such a wonder. Their genuine kindness and inner calmness was beautiful. If they would have allowed it, I could have stayed indefinitely. I would not be writing to you but living with them in the mountains. 

Every now and then, I remember these moments and notice how my body relaxes, the mind goes quiet and joy and compassion naturally arise in my heart. Is this my personal connection with awe? Since these experiences are clearly fleeting, lasting for just a very brief time, do they bring any lasting change to our minds and hearts? And how can wonder and awe become catalysts for wellbeing in our daily lives? 

We all experience moments of wonder and awe, in our seemingly ordinary daily life and when we encounter something not sensed before. While we have been preparing the ground for Be Wise Go Kind: Awaken Awe, Mitra Mark pointed out there is an inspiring and hopeful quality of awe. Yet, we also know we need to let go of the experience. And if we want them to be really meaningful, we need to do some serious inquiry about how our personal connection with wonder and awe can lead to a path, a practice, and adopt methods to open further towards a greater awareness – enabling us to feel life through all our sense, find contentment and cultivate kinder communities in today’s world. 

Excerpt from: My Book of Awe (a free book with contemplations and practices made available to you upon registration for one of our talks or entire series to support your personal connection and inquiry into awe and its nature)

By: Fransiscus Ismaël
ཀརྨ་འོད་སྲུང་། (Karma Ösung)