By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
He saw how lost and curious I looked, and so he walked in my direction. I had gotten into that atrium for I was famished, but I ended up finding nourishments that were not on the menu. One could listen to the majestic silence in that random cubicle on the threshing floor of a Nepalese restaurant in Vienna. It was a chilly day, but those men ignored the feeling of having cold extremities, for they were greatly devoted to warming the world with philosophies of love. While the other monks, in some sort of trance, were drawing sand mandalas on a vast board, I found myself flying beyond the colors and I must hardly have hidden in my gaze what I was experiencing inside. He spoke in a calm voice, nearly whispering. To be able to listen to him, I had to empathically focus. -Do you have any questions? -Too many. -You can start by putting one. – He told me while smiling. I was in the last stage of a 35-day trip through ten countries of the Balkan route. I certainly did not lack questions. I asked one and then another and then another. Perhaps one day I might have the guts to transcribe everything I wrote down in the travel log. We uttered about patience, about waiting. He told me about their yearly voyages, about monasteries, Buddhism. Every year, they journey to five distinct nations, in an art exchange, so they can aim their end of collecting donations for the erection of a new monastery, where poor children can be schooled for free. The Tibetan monk gave me pieces of advice about life. We took a deep breath. We talked about silence, mundane anxieties, and love. -What about love? -I feel it’s getting harder. -He laughed. -It’s hard to wait. Rejection is challenging. People are hard, not love. Love is not the voice of the ego, it’s the sublime silence of being. It doesn’t need to raise its voice, change its pitch. It’s here, awaiting no rewards. -Sometimes tasting some chocolate would be nice. -He laughed once again, with a fondness for my impatience. -Yes, it would. But gluttony is also a cry from ego. It’s just a transitory pleasure. But in the long run, do you know what it does? -What? -It makes your tummy turn.