Finally, Home.

It's Monday.

It's July 1.

I'm off work for the day.

I have a list of things I could do to be "productive."

But I think the thing that would feel best right now, is to sit down and force myself to write a blog post.

Do I have any idea what I'm about to write about?

Nope.

Will I promise myself to publish this post by the end of the day?

Yes.

Do I break promises due to my obsession with perfection?

Yep.


Here goes.


I've been home for about a week after a pretty long month of traveling. And it honestly feels so good to be home. I've got to say, I'm definitely a creature who loves her comforts and her routines. And I'm also beyond grateful that I get to leave the country so often to feed my soul and explore my universe.

I feel like I'm supposed to start writing about how my life changed in Nepal and how I went to Kauai  and had an an re-awakening experience with Mother Earth.

Of course, these things are true.

When you are a Buddhist practitioner, or even just a spiritual person and you go to Nepal, as soon as you step out into the smokey, buzzing, terrifying, colorful streets of Kathmandu, you can feel the ancient spirit in the air. Gazing up at the Himalayan mountains you can feel the secrets of the most ancient rocks in the world.

As a westerner, Buddhism feels so far away, I think I've described the feelings before, of being a western buddhist and feeling like I'm never going to be good enough as a western practitioner. However, once you're there, once you feel the spirit of the country, it doesn't even matter what you 'believe' in.

You feel it.

God, Shiva, Buddha, Spirit, whatever you call it.

In a country like Nepal, borders are open to all those seeking religious refuge between many different religious states. It is a country where tolerance for all is simply practiced because it is understood that all things are true. In a country where marigolds decorate EVERYTHING and offering bowls with incense are in almost every shop. You can see it, you can feel it, you can smell it. The spirit of the ancient world is alive in Kathmandu.

Oh and me being a westerner?
Fascinated and elated all kinds of people.

You see, when we're in Nepal, we're technically on pilgrimage or retreat to the homeland and we choose to wear our maroon robes everyday, everywhere we go. You see a lot of this in Nepal, especially in the Swayambunath area that I stay in. You see a lot of men and women with shaved heads wearing all maroon similar to my clothes. However, I have long red hair and very fair skin and the zens and shirts I wear don't look totally like what all the other monks wear. My skirt was a too big hand-me down. The shirts I would wear, gold, maroon or white, were mostly crop tops from H&M if I'm not wearing something more traditional that I had bought in Nepal prior to this trip. The zen I wear has a long white stripe in it representing that I am from a specific lineage from Tibet.

So, I attract a lot of looks and stares and even permission for selfies just about everywhere I go. (Let's be honest, the rate at which I was asked to take selfies with people was the same whether I was in western clothes or zens).

The ones who understood who I was and why I was there - they made me feel so honored to be a part of my tradition.

You see, when Tibet was invaded and the Dalai Lama made his infamous escape into India, the indigenous tradition of Tibetan Buddhism was literally shattered. In order for the tradition to survive the Dalai Lama and many other masters who survived had to start sharing these sacred, secretive practices and philosophies with the world. And as you probably know now, the world immediately fell in love with His Holiness and support for the situation in Tibet grew widely popular.

"You should thank the Chinese Army for invading my homeland," my teacher's translator explained to us during a teaching one day.

"Tibetan Buddhism was shattered, and it's pieces flew all over the world."

It wasn't until Nepal, that I truly realized the responsibility for carrying on an indigenous tradition that can no longer survive in its homeland. I realized, that I never need to feel like I'm not enough for this tradition. Because now it's clear that this connection between myself and Tibetan Buddhism are so much bigger than me, myself and the country from which it originated.

This is a bigger calling from the universe. 
The magnetism is stronger than I can do anything about. 
What a blessing.

For some reason, Tibetan Buddhism chose me, here in Salt Lake City, to take up the practice and commit my life and every life after to studying, practicing and liberating others through the dharma. I no longer have to feel like a fraud, or like I'm not good enough, or like I don't know what I'm doing and don't deserve these teachings. No more of that.

I would not be in Nepal, for the second time in six months, if I were not supposed to be sitting in this monastery from a Tibetan master slash refugee. I would not have put on those robes and taken new vows if I was not supposed to be traveling to Nepal, Tibet or India to restore connection to my spiritual homeland. I would not have the blessing of having a Rinpoche that lives here in my hometown of Salt Lake City offering me three teachings a week that are directly from the source if I were not pre-destined to carry on this sacred lineage of Tibetan Buddhism.

And if I'm staying true to this whole stream-of-conscious vulnerability blogging style I've got going on, I'll say that when I'm in my robes here in Salt Lake City and in Kathmandu, I understand that I am a rare and confusing site to see. I understand that people in town probably think it's weird that I dress like that and do whatever it is that buddhist people do at the temple. I understand that people might believe I'm appropriating another culture. I especially understand that people may believe that I am self righteous above all because I call myself a Buddhist.

But none of that has anything to do with my or my truth.

The truth is, that when I put on those clothes, I feel like I am my most true self. I feel like I am my most beautiful. I feel that I am my most comfortable. I feel that I am truly showing the world who I am, whether you understand it or not. The prayers, the mantras, the rituals, it all feels so familiar to me. The way my life has completely changed since I stepped foot in that temple is my proof that this was the missing piece for me.

The familial love that I feel around the sangha members here and overseas is a reminder.
This is who I am.
This is what I'm meant to be doing.
This is my priority in life.
I have no idea where this is going to take me or what I'm supposed to do with it.
But I do know, that it's been a wildly enjoyable ride.

And I cannot wait to see what happens next.

Thank you so much for reading. Drop me a note, let me know you are still out there, readers. <3