The return to Kathmandu ~ one city, six dimensions of reality.
There is the Kathmandu of colors to which the saffron robes of a passing monk and the dazzling ruby saris of smiling women belong; the black coal smudge lining the corner of a child's twinkling eye; the rise of silver incense smoke against an indigo sky; the strings of marigolds that adorn the doors and passage ways of narrow alleys.
There is the Kathmandu of sound to which the squeaky horns of tuk tuks and the methodic sweep of a broom belong, accented by sounds of echoing laughter from open apartment windows and the growling hums of motorcycle engines.
Then of course, there is the Kathmandu of smells, where roasted yak meat and boiling daal, burning firewood and clouds of dust all waft together through the contours of my nostrils straight to the center of my soul.
There is the Kathmandu of touch that reaches out to the bottoms of my bare legs through the cool, marble stairs on which they rest or through the early morning zephyr that dances along my face and runs the outlines of my outstretched fingers; the sudden jolt of alertness as bodies collide down crowded, chaotic streets; the smooth countenance of a turquoise Buddha statue staring into my eyes with loving kindness.
There is naturally the Kathmandu of taste which embraces the warm, creamy sweetness of masala chai and each individual spice of which a samosa is comprised; the comforting familiarity of basmati rice melting in my mouth in a sea of daal.
Then there is the intuitive Kathmandu of prana, or life force, which glues each of the aforementioned treasures together in every ephemeral, passing moment ~ like riding a giant life wave at its crest, as far as it will go -- without asking where it goes -- and trusting that a wave of beauty, love and truth itself will only reflect the outer world as such if you surrender yourself to it fully.
These are the six dimensions of Kathmandu, woven together like petals of a lotus flower blooming in an open palm; six modes of reality in which to dissolve your thoughts and touch the face of God.
There is the Kathmandu of colors to which the saffron robes of a passing monk and the dazzling ruby saris of smiling women belong; the black coal smudge lining the corner of a child's twinkling eye; the rise of silver incense smoke against an indigo sky; the strings of marigolds that adorn the doors and passage ways of narrow alleys.
There is the Kathmandu of sound to which the squeaky horns of tuk tuks and the methodic sweep of a broom belong, accented by sounds of echoing laughter from open apartment windows and the growling hums of motorcycle engines.
Then of course, there is the Kathmandu of smells, where roasted yak meat and boiling daal, burning firewood and clouds of dust all waft together through the contours of my nostrils straight to the center of my soul.
There is the Kathmandu of touch that reaches out to the bottoms of my bare legs through the cool, marble stairs on which they rest or through the early morning zephyr that dances along my face and runs the outlines of my outstretched fingers; the sudden jolt of alertness as bodies collide down crowded, chaotic streets; the smooth countenance of a turquoise Buddha statue staring into my eyes with loving kindness.
There is naturally the Kathmandu of taste which embraces the warm, creamy sweetness of masala chai and each individual spice of which a samosa is comprised; the comforting familiarity of basmati rice melting in my mouth in a sea of daal.
Then there is the intuitive Kathmandu of prana, or life force, which glues each of the aforementioned treasures together in every ephemeral, passing moment ~ like riding a giant life wave at its crest, as far as it will go -- without asking where it goes -- and trusting that a wave of beauty, love and truth itself will only reflect the outer world as such if you surrender yourself to it fully.
These are the six dimensions of Kathmandu, woven together like petals of a lotus flower blooming in an open palm; six modes of reality in which to dissolve your thoughts and touch the face of God.
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