Just yesterday, I attended a special chanting and meditation program for sending prayers to people who have been affected by the earthquakes in Nepal.
The tiny, remote country was rocked by violent tremors on April 25th and again on May 12th. Thousands of people lost their lives. I can’t imagine the devastation and confusion, the anxiety that the whole country is living with now, from Pokhara to Katmandu, over whether the earth will tremble again in the coming weeks.
I had visited the country many years ago. I was 23. I was returning to the States the long way after an extended stay in Nanjing, China.
When thinking about my time in Nepal, I remember a joyful sort of incongruity. I had to learn not to hold expectations and to be delighted by what presented itself.
While feeling a little like royalty between the luxurious carved wood walls of the Hotel Yak and Yeti near the Himalayas, there were times during the day when I couldn’t use electricity or take a hot shower because they rationed power in different sectors of town at different times. Taking cold showers by candlelight was kind of fun.
At the Fish Tail Lodge in Pokhara, I had the most beautiful view of the Annapurnas but didn’t feel like hiking because I was battling some local intestinal bug that made me think straying away from a toilet was a bad idea. Fortunately, the incredible mountain view was entertainment enough.
Whether in the valley, or around tourist spots in Katmandu like the Monkey Temple or Pie Alley, the locals were very welcoming and full of life.
I felt a little ashamed, considering I had a personal connection with the place, that when the quakes occurred, I registered the events in my mind as tragic but didn’t respond with an action.
Yesterday, before we began chanting, as I formulated a prayer in my heart for the healing and long-term well-being of my brothers and sisters in Nepal, I thought about how fortunate I was.
As I closed my eyes, I imagined colorful prayer flags fluttering in the wind, hanging from strings cast from every spot in the world. The strings were tacked to trees and rocks, hospitals, homes and schools in this special country.
Chanting and meditating with the intention of sending love to those who were hurting filled with me gratitude. That this feeling welled up in me was not so much about feeling fortunate that I have never experienced the earth shake underneath me.
Having this event serve as a focal point for formulating and sending prayers prompted me to get out of my own head and habitual preoccupations. It led me to ask myself what I can do for others. I felt grateful that I could do something for this situation even if that was only sending a check.
I also felt a subtle shift in me. I seemed to feel more certain about this than ever. I was reminded how we are all meant to support each other. I considered that if I was suffering, people who I didn’t know might send me heartfelt prayers for my pain to be eased, for my life to be restored.
Knowing that in sending prayers, and in considering aligned actions, you are participating in a community without boundaries is no small thing.
Beautiful…