Overcoming Pain

by | Apr 16, 2025 | Yoga Health Education

I am not your enemy, I am your friend,
I am a messenger from God, I am an angel from heaven
To teach you wisdom, To instill in your heart,
Mercy and dispassion, To turn your mind towards God,
To destroy your intense clinging To things earthly and mundane,
That are perishable and illusory; I am your guide and silent teacher,
I AM PAIN—the best thing in this world.

—excerpt from I am Pain, Thy Teacher by Swami Sivanandac

Pain is the main reason people go to the doctor. About 20% of American adults suffer from moderate to severe chronic pain, as do 13% of North American teens and 10 to 30% of the adult population of Europe. Its effects are physical, psychological and spiritual. Acute pain is typically a pain with a specific, identifiable cause, and a pain like twisting your ankle that resolves relatively quickly. Pain becomes chronic when it lasts three to six months. It can stem from an acute injury or surgery, but doesn’t always. The most expensive pain conditions in America are headache, arthritis and back pain. Pain can affect daily activities such as work, relationships, and sleep. When chronic, it can lead to mood disorders, depression, even suicide. Recent research suggests that pain can affect the chemistry of the brain and the functioning of the nervous systems. Other people, including many doctors, may find it hard to believe the severity of persistent pain. (The choice of the word “persistent” is intentional, as “chronic” does not sound hopeful!)

Pain is Subjective

How can we really know how much pain someone is in? It is very difficult to describe or measure. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is your pain?” How can we know whether one person’s 8 out of 10 is the same as another’s 8 out of 10? It is the same conundrum as trying to explain color to a blind person, or trying to describe the taste of jackfruit to someone who has never tasted it. We can try using adjectives like “aching,” “burning,” “sharp,” “shooting,” “radiating,” but these are also imprecise. Our capacity to communicate about pain is equal to the challenge of describing what love feels like, and how deeply impacting it is.

Protective Response

The human body comes equipped with many protective mechanisms—among them are sneezing, muscle spasms, the fight/flight response… and pain. Pain is a normal human experience, ensuring our survival. Its job is not only to alert us to danger, but make us stop what we’re doing, move away from the danger and sometimes even go lie down. Imagine the members of the Marsili family in Italy; because of a rare genetic mutation, they feel little or no pain. That might sound good at first, but consider the potentially dangerous consequences. You could burn yourself or break a bone without knowing it. You could then keep moving and make matters worse.

What is Pain?

Recent advances in pain science focus on the nervous system and the brain. The central nervous system consists of the brain and spinal cord. The peripheral nervous system consists mainly of nerves. When something potentially harmful happens, a message is sent to the brain via nerves and the spinal cord. Note that the impulse sent is not a pain message, but a danger message. (Neurons cannot tell the difference; they just relay a signal.)

Three things excite the neurons in your pain-danger system: mechanical forces on your tissues, chemical irritations and extremes of hot and cold. The greater the perceived threat, the more neurons jump into action, the more insistent the message. It is not until the information from the senses reaches the brain, though, that a decision is made about how dangerous it is and whether something needs to be done.

But the pain we feel is not an accurate indication of tissue damage or health. A major injury might not hurt much and a small paper cut can hurt a lot. You can be so engrossed in gardening that you don’t realize you’ve cut your finger. A soldier on the battlefield may be unaware of a serious injury. You may have injured the same body part several times and learned that it is not a big deal. If so, the brain will assign that injury less pain. The brain also deals with information presented on a priority basis. And that is a decision between it and you.

Nervous System: Experience, Not Facts

Nerves are made up of thousands of nerve cells, or neurons. They sense information and send messages via electrical impulse. If the message is loud enough and travels the length of the neuron, the neuron releases chemicals to excite the next neuron. The chain reaction reaches the spinal cord. If an immediate response is needed, a reflex can be initiated from there. Otherwise, signals may be amplified and sent along to the brain. The brain provide us with experiences, not facts. The signals lead to brain activity that creates pain. Action impulses from the brain can then influence any system of the body. Usually long before tissue heals, the brain itself reduces the danger signals and its own response, allowing pain to subside so “normal life” can resume.

Pain is Complex

There are 45 miles (72km) of nerves in the body, all collecting information about what is happening inside and outside the body. In the brain alone, there are 100 billion nerve cells. That’s 1,000 trillion connections passing information around the brain.

Pain Can Persist After Tissue Heals

There are cases where, after three to six months, the tissue may have healed, but the pain remains. Many systems have gone on red alert, usually including the emotional systems. Fear and worry feed right back into pain, revving it up. It is harder to pay attention. Less endorphins, and other feel-good chemicals, are being produced by the brain. It becomes harder to feel anything but pain in the body, harder to plan refined movements. Pain can lead the person experiencing it into a spiral—into a lonely, desperate, even life-threatening position.

The Nervous System Gets Wound Up

Persisting pain is related to two things: 1) changes in the physical body; and 2) neuroplastic changes in the nervous systems.

Revving up the fight/flight response

Courtesy of Neil Pearson

Pain can get worse because the nervous systems decide to pay closer attention to the danger signals. Excited neurons send even more signals, exciting neighboring neurons. The threshold of their sensors is lowered. With this much activity, the neurons function as if there is considerable danger and begin to produce inflammation to protect the body. The nervous system is wound up. The neural pathways related to pain expand. Similar changes of wind-up happen in the brain, and it can seem that positive feedback loops build allowing the changes to create a story of considerable danger, which then loops back to create more pain and more sense of danger. Research shows that understanding this process can help reduce pain.

“Suffering equals pain multiplied by resistance.”

—Shinzen Young

Pain Takes Over Other functions

When pain is experienced, 200 to 400 parts of the brain can get excited. The pain alarm system becomes hypersensitive. Normal functions of the brain in those areas are altered—some more active and some less. The pain can seem to spread as the signal expands into adjacent areas of the brain. Day-to-day activities such as thinking, planning and regulating emotions can be impacted. While pain might normally be processed in 5% of the nerve cells in a particular area of the thinking brain, in persistent pain, it can expand to 15–25% of the cells. The brain learns pain.

Left. Many areas of the brain can light up when there is pain.

Center. If the pain becomes chronic, more of the brain is processing it and the lit area grows.

Right. When the signals subside, no more pain.

Courtesy of Michael Moskowitz, M.D. and Marla Golden, D.O. and the neuroplastix.com website

The Body Map/Subjective Memory

The brain relies on being able to feel the body. It “sees” the body differently than we see ourselves. Given the large number of nerve endings in the skin, the brain receives more detailed information about the skin than what’s inside it. The more information, the bigger that body part becomes in our internal “body map.” Pain distorts how the brain perceives the body (as do memories, anxiety, preconceived ideas, etc.). A person with hand pain, may literally experience the hand being larger than normal. We may experience joint stiffness or pain; in actuality, the problem is in the nervous systems, not only in the body. The brain is sending the wrong signals. More things trigger the pain, even the slightest stress.

You Can Change Pain

Is the red dot inside or outside the cube? If you can change how you see this cube, that means you can change how you perceive visual inputs to your brain. And if you can do that, do you think you can change how your brain perceives danger signals?

If we are too quick to run from pain, or medicate it, we miss what it is trying to tell us. If we allow the battle to be between the doctor and the disease and think the solution is outside ourselves, we never get a chance to find the inner resources to face the situation, or find our own solutions to the problem. When we work together with Nature, different outcomes are possible.

What is Neuroplasticity?

The good news is that the nervous system is adaptable and constantly changing. Nerve cells in the brain change connections and behavior when new information is presented. One function of the brain can be transferred to an adjacent area of the brain if needed. If someone is blind, the areas of the brain that process visual information are free to process information from other senses. Thus there can be heightened awareness in other senses. If we don’t exercise a brain function, our potential in that area decreases. Equally, we get better at whatever we practice.

• Education in pain neuroscience can help put the ball in our court. The nerves will learn whatever we practice. Thanks to neuroplasticity, we have the power to influence how the nervous system functions. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to changing the nervous systems back. A combination of approaches works best. It is not necessarily easy or quick, but it is feasible. Each person’s collection of symptoms is different, based on their emotional state, response, memories, undigested past experiences, etc., yet all have the ability to influence pain.

• Neurons can be changed by almost anything—how we move, by input through our skin, how we stretch, what we think, what we see, our environment, what we believe, our emotions, etc. We have the ability to change each of these things, so we have considerable power to change how our neurons work.

• Sensors at the end of nerves are replaced every few days. We have some influence on the sensitivity of the new sensors. Given that there are trillions of sensors in your body, and thousands are replaced every second, every second your nervous system is in a state of more calmness, your body has the opportunity to replace the highly sensitive ones with the more normal (low sensitivity, high threshold) sensors.

[“More time in a calmer state, more opportunity for positive change.” —Neil Pearson]

• Brain chemistry changes when we practice finding ways to be happier. The fight/flight response causes the release of cortisol, which leads to more pain. Endorphins are produced when we are more content. Older adults with arthritis who are in good marriages experience less pain than those who are single or in unsupportive relationships. According to Neil Pearson, “One endorphin molecule may be able to block as many as 50 danger signals.” This makes endorphins even more powerful than morphine—but with pleasant side effects.

 

Teaching the Body a New Response to Pain

Unremitting pain wants our attention. Dwelling on it, or attempting to ignore it, can both rev up the nervous system. Research shows that it can be possible to reduce pain, by focusing on it without judgment or emotional response. Over time, we can teach the body a new response to pain, one that will cause less anxiety and less areas of the brain to fire. Reconceptualizing pain is empowering.

In Norman Diodge’s book, The Brain’s Way of Healing, he gives an example of a doctor who had debilitating neck pain for 13 years. The pain had spread to his back and shoulders. He decided to try a neuroplastic experiment to change his brain. Neurons that fire together, wire together. As often as possible, when in pain, especially when the pain spiked, he visualized a calm brain. He said, “I had to be relentless—even more relentless than the pain signal itself.” It took three weeks to notice a change. By six weeks, the back and shoulder pain was gone. His diligence paid off. Within a year, he was completely pain-free—for good!

 

The body will protect you from tissue damage. Once there is chronic pain, the warning alarm comes on prematurely. We believe there is danger sooner, so we give in to the alarm. Mobility decreases.

Courtesy of Neil Pearson

Keep Moving

Movement is an essential approach for successful pain care. The hypersensitive nervous systems are wary of movement, though. We move tentatively and an internal warning alarm comes on—even before there is any real danger— so we stop. To work towards regaining ease of movement, we must first be calm and attentive, then move up to and just beyond the edge of the pain. As the alarm goes off, ask, “Is it really dangerous? Will I regret it? Maybe this is just a normal situation.” By challenging the alarm, we turn it down. Muscles need to be taught that it’s okay to move and stretch. We must reconnect with body sensations, paying more attention to them than to the pain.

 

 

How Yoga Helps

Pain can be changed. And so can suffering associated with pain. Pain does not have to equal suffering. All is changing. Pain will change. In Yoga we learn to observe, accept what is and do our duty, putting aside personal preference. The experience is not about pain, it is what is behind the pain that brings insight into deeper truths. We go beyond our limited idea of self and expand.

Used as a therapeutic treatment, yoga helps relieve pain and muscular tension, fostering greater ease of movement and building self-reliance. Physical, mental and spiritual self-awareness and self-regulation improve. Feelings of anxiety, fear and isolation are reduced and a better quality of life can be found. It is accessible, less costly than medical intervention and has long-lasting effects—setting us on the journey to connect with the holistic Self, highest Self, the Perfect Self.

 

The Five Points of Yoga are the Best Medicine:

• Proper Breathing – Conscious breathing winds down the nervous system. An effective way to trigger parasympathetic response and release endorphins before moving is the following simple exercise. Just practicing this three to five times a day can help regulate the nervous system.

Longer, Smoother, Softer Breathing Practice
In any comfortable position, focus on your breathing. It doesn’t have to be any particular way, just watch it for a minute or so. Next, see if you can make it a little longer. Observe for another minute. Then, see if you can make it a little smoother. Observe. Finally, can you make it a little softer?

• Proper Relaxation – It is difficult not to focus on pain when it is severe. It is also challenging to relax. Practice a body scan in savasana (or sitting, if it’s more comfortable) to build body awareness. Starting with the feet and toes, pay attention to any subtle, non-pain sensations. Take your time and go through the entire body. This can prepare you to move calmly into an adapted yoga sequence with ease and confidence.

• Proper Exercise – Mild to moderate exercise can decrease physical pain. Monitor muscular tension. Take note of how the breath feels, how the mind feels, how the spirit feels. Stay calm. Do not ignore pain. Be sure you feel safe. The yoga sequence should be gentle and at a slow pace. Pause to take a slow, deep breath between rounds of sun salutations. When practicing bhujangasana, for instance, inhale up and exhale down a few times with no long-holding. Continue to monitor the body/mind/breath. Stop any time you cannot maintain the state of calm. Progress slowly.

• Proper Diet – The yogic (vegetarian) diet can help reduce pain and inflammation, and can even help reduce side effects of medications. Eat lots of vegetables, beans, fruits and a variety of whole grains. Include nourishing fats and high-quality protein.
Use ginger and turmeric. Restrict dairy and grains. Reduce flour and sugar intake. Avoid nightshade vegetables—potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and eggplant and processed food.

• Positive Thinking and Meditation – Thought, like proper movement, is among the most effective ways to stimulate neurons in the brain circuits. The mind drives pain. The mind can also reverse it. Imagine an area of the brain devoted to pain is shrinking. Reframe stressful events as beneficial. “Pain” can be rephrased as “sensation.” Cultivate less fear responses. In working with the mind, we gain the ability to focus for longer periods. We can manage stress. Positive thinking produces endorphins. We build self-awareness, quiet the mind and senses. In a 2011 study using functional MRI results, four hours of meditation training was shown to significantly reduce pain intensity.

Highly effective self-care, Yoga requires the utmost patience and perseverance. By its steady practice, we can not only change pain, but empower people to live with joy and meaning. We seek to cultivate the same awareness in meditation practice, leading to the non-dual state where there is only peace; pain disappears.

 

Travelogue: Trip to Mount Kailas in Tibet, 2000

Travelogue: Trip to Mount Kailas in Tibet, 2000

by | Mar 4, 2023 | Travelogue

Tuesday, June 6, 2000 • Kathmandu

We were to be downstairs in the hotel by 6:45am for tea—with luggage ready for the airport. Anticipation was high and many people were downstairs an hour before that. Lucy presented us with white shawls and we were off. Fifteen people. Twenty-six bags to check. All went smoothly at the airport. A bus drove us a very short distance to the tarmac to identify checked bags before they were loaded onto the plane. 

Clouds followed us from Kathmandu, obscuring the sacred Himalayas as we flew to Lhasa. Dramatic mountains came into view on our descent. At 12,000 feet, Lhasa is one of the highest elevation cities in the world. (And you feel it as soon as you step out of the airport.)

The drive to the hotel from “Three Worlds” Airport was slow, maybe two hours. Rocky, sandy mountains in all directions. Blue sky with a constant show of cloud formations. Hundreds of army trucks. I was so happy to be in Tibet. The hotel is right under the expansive Potala Palace. Given the 2.5 hour time difference to Peking time, the day was short. “Lunch” was at 5:00pm. A tour guide led us halfway around the Palace and on to a bank to change money. People were tired and headachy and light-headed, so we decided not to finish the circumambulation, but to head back to the hotel a shorter way. Rain and wind chilled us, so we ducked into a hairdresser’s shop to wait out the storm. A huge rainbow brought us back out and elevated the rest of the walk.

 

I have never seen such beautiful people. The Tibetans’ features are striking, augmented by an inner gentleness and strength. The shapes, the clothing are soon familiar. As we walked around the Palace beside the rows of spinning prayer wheels, many smilies were exchanged. I could feel the “Om Mani Padme Hum” flying around, soaring, filling the space with devotion. The monks’ deep voices chanted their prayers. The women, in groups of four, chanted in a beautiful contrast of rhythms. I could listen for hours.

Arriving back from the bank around 7:30pm we were informed of a dance performance at 8:00pm. I laid down and couldn’t rouse myself at 8:00pm. At 8:45 the music of the performance insisted. I am so glad I went down. Beautiful Tibetans of all ages in elaborate dress sang and danced traditional numbers for us—some from opera. The highlight was the yak dance—four dancers became two big furry yaks! Such a warm welcome to this special place!

 

Wednesday, June 7, Lhasa

7:00am Circumambulation of the Potala Palace. The whir of the prayers wheels is mesmerizing—you can feel the prayers rise into the air. I am already wishing we had more than three days in Lhasa.  (The following is a snowy postcard, not as we saw the Potala Palace.)

White toast with yak butter and strawberry jam for breakfast. Land Cruisers drove us the short distance up to the Potala Palace, the Dalai Lama’s winter Palace. Colors and patterns everywhere. There are 1,000 rooms and 10,000 shrines, decorated with 720 kilos of gold. It was begun in the 11th century and completed in 1645, and was named after the Potala Mountain in India. (Previously, I think it had been called Red Hill.) The walls of the entryway house a “pigeon-hole library”—cubbyholes all the way up to the high ceiling containing Tibetan translations of the Buddha’s teachings. So beautiful. We processed from room to room through corridors and sometimes up steep narrow steps. There were meditation rooms, altar rooms, meeting rooms…

Bigger-than-life-size figures were bedecked in turquoise inlay and other stones with delicate precision. The tomb of each Dalai Lama had a dedicated room. Butter lamps shone. An especially impressive “altar” was dedicated to the wheel of time. The symmetrical gold structure was ringed by seated figures. Something about it struck me deeply. In the presence of the remains of each Dalai Lama, I felt their power, their truth. We entered a large room and the tears that had been welling in my eyes streamed down my face. It was the Dalai Lama’s healing meditation room. Walls were filled with arched niches containing figures. The vibration is still very much alive. We had tea in the Dalai Lama’s walking meditation room.

After lunch, we drove to Jokhang Temple and toured inside. We walked once around the inner circumambulation, prayer wheels whirring. Yoga class and satsang. No dinner. Ready to sleep.

Thursday, June 8, Lhasa

6:00am Satsang. 7:45am circumambulation of Potala Palace. Went slowly, spinning many of the prayer wheels. Toast and banana for breakfast—plus a pot of lemon ginger tea I had brought! Then went shopping for vegetables with Swami Vaisistananda; we were stocking up for a picnic lunch. In a big Chinese market, we found tahini with a delicious aroma to spread on bread. Swamiji was a pro at bargaining—joking with the vendors. Got good prices on carrots, cucumber, fresh peas and cauliflower.

Back just in time for 9:30am departure for Drepung Monastery. Got a taste of the dusty roads and the need for a face mask! The monastery was founded in 1416 and housed Dalai Lamas II–IV and other Lamas of the yellow hat sect. In the past, 10,000 monks studied here—now only 500. The main shrine of the Gandam Palace is dedicated to the Buddha of protection. For any donation, we received braided cords to wear around our necks for protection.

Firewood for the the monk’s kitchen used to be brought by a 60–70 yak “train” which would take 10 days to arrive!

Off at 3:00pm to the Summer Palace, a “small house” of 40 rooms built in 1959. The present Dalai Lama (XIV) left in 1959. It was sad to see his beautiful, empty meeting rooms. The main one had wall paintings illustrating history back to monkeys meditating in caves. His decorative meditation room and teaching room were so hauntingly empty… The grounds, however, were very peaceful.

Back to the hotel for asanas at 5:00pm. At 6:00pm, we left for a restaurant near Jokhang Temple. Ate lots of vegetable momo (dumplings) and bobi (thin “crepes” with cheese spread and veggies). Jasmine tea washed it down well.

Went over to the temple afterwards and caught 15 minutes of the monks’ evening chanting. There were maybe 200 monks in their maroon robes on cushioned benches in varying shades of maroon among brightly decorated pillars. Easy to get lost in the vibration. We continued to a small chapel at the back, open for circumambulation. 

An old monk sat on the floor chanting from the leaves of his prayer book, while a very young monk chanted along as best he could, craning his neck to see… Very sweet.

Tried to join the mass kora outside the temple, but there were so many people that we opted for the walk back to the hotel. Amazing clouds whooshing over the mountains. 

 

Friday, June 9, Lhasa to Gyantse

Up early to finish packing. Loaded up the four Land Cruisers; Swami Vasishtananda performed a puja for the cars—sprinkled them with water and drew symbols on them with sandalwood paste. We did archanam of 108 names of Ganesha, while offering rice. We presented the drivers with official yatra t-shirts.

Had breakfast and then we were off—beginning our drive to the far west of Tibet to circumambulate the most sacred mountain. Parvati, Kailas, Rama and I will get to know each other well! Tiri, our driver for the next couple of weeks, is very sweet; he sings along with our bhajans.

Scenery is beautiful. Multicolor mountains in the distance and all around. Snow-capped mountains peek out. Not long after setting off on the twisty, dusty roads, one car had brake trouble. Thankfully, it did not cause much delay. We continued past fields of sheep, yaks, goats… stopped at a few stupas with player flags. Traditionally-clad Tibetans with decorated yaks and very cute children offered to let us sit on a yak for a photo—for 2 yuan! We resist, but certainly many photos are taken.

A thunderstorm threatened. The clouds seemed to make the sky even more amazing. I searched for a rainbow… caught glimpses of snowy mountaintops, maybe a lone Tibetan with a yak in the foreground. We passed many deserted Tibetan compounds on the south route of Friendship Highway, then came upon the sacred Yamdrok Lake with its intensely green water (100km from Lhasa).

 

Back in the cars, we would wave as we passed folks from small villages, or road repair crews, or yak/sheep herders… We crossed a high pass (maybe 15,000 feet altitude) and arrived at the Wutse Hotel in Gyantse, elevation 4,040 meters (13,000 feet). I have dry nose and am feeling the lack of oxygen.

 

Saturday, June 10, Gyantse to Shigatse

Morning asana class was in the long, red-carpeted corridor outside the hotel rooms. From the Tashi Restaurant, we walked to the Kumbum and Pelkhor Chode Monastery. We circumambulated some of the seven levels of the Kumbum, a terraced stupa built in the early 1400s. Many small chapels radiate off on each level. Elaborate faces and figures appear as our eyes adjust from the sunlight to the darkness. A 15-day festival begins today. Maroon-clad monks sat in rows in the main temple. They chanted steadily. Some played drum, cymbals. One older monk was making mudras with his hands continuously as he chanted. 

Across the dry yard, four girls were sifting gray powder through big screens. They sang so simply and beautifully as they worked. Impressive fort on a hill.

We drove a comparatively short distance today. Although it was pretty flat, there were mountains nearby on both sides. A 3-foot-wide stream flowed on each side of the dusty, rocky, rutted road. There was no snow in sight, just small villages once in a while, some field workers, a few trucks, a German tourist bus. 

We arrived in Shigatse in time for 2:00pm lunch and then walked to the Tashi Lhunpo Monastery, founded in 1447. It is the seat for the Panchen Lamas. In Jamkhang Chenmo, there is a 28-meter-tall gilded copper Maitreya Buddha of compassion, with surrounding murals of 1,000 Buddhas.

The shrine built in 1989 for the 10th Panchen Lama was beautiful. The murals were impeccable. We were particularly drawn to a Durga Mandala. She has eyes in her palms and forearms, a halo of many tiny hands and quite a few feet and toes.

Among the picturesque alleyways and textures, we passed a platform strewn with monks woven “shoes”.

We then realized it was their tea time and watched from above as big copper spouted urns were brought out to fill the classic large thermoses.

We were then able to file into the hall where several hundred monks chanted underneath heavy worn, pleated ochre robes—all ages, all states of attention. A head monk passed through the aisles with a huge stick of incense. The energy was beautiful. It was truly a privilege to be there. Who are these men and boys? Can they keep this spirit alive? The monastery used to house nearly 5,000 monks. Today’s turnout seems to have to do with the 15-day festival beginning.

Yesterday’s singing in the car made me melancholy, thinking about past events in my life. And here I was today in remote Tibet, listening to the beauty of ages being kept alive by wise people.

Tibet Travelogue, Part 2

by | Mar 3, 2023 | Karma Yoga

Sunday, June 11, 2000 • Shigatse to Lhatse

I was exhausted after Satsang last night, but when I laid down, figures were racing around in my head. I couldn’t breathe. I sat up to breathe easier and then felt light-headed. Then I felt cold. I kept trying to force the air out to get a better breath. Parvati slept so well. I was scared. Could I really do this?

Being at morning Satsang was good—also reading that these mild nuisance symptoms should disappear in two to four days. Hang on. 

Rice soup and Tibetan bread for breakfast. On the road at 9:00am. Felt better already. Rested in the car. Soft, colored mountains all around. Curious children flock around the cars when we stop. We arrived in Lhatse, a sad town seeming to consist of one main road, lined with non-descript two-story buildings housing non-descript shops. Very dirty children crane their necks to watch us through the windows of the restaurant where we have lunch. 

We are to be joined here by our truck of provisions—food, tents, gasoline—and sherpas, a cook and translator. There was no sign of them, however—it could be truck problems or mountain road problems. The plan was to camp 30km past town tonight. We’ve taken simple rooms in a guest house to wait—and took the opportunity to do an asana class.

We must stay on schedule for our Friday start of the Kailas Parikrama to coincide auspiciously with the full moon.

On our return from dinner, we found the truck had arrived! Lobsang, the translator, looked like a movie star in his black jeans, big red Adidas jacket, orange towel around his neck…and a big smile.

Tuesday, June 13 • Lhatse onward

Up at 5:30am. Sherpas brought pans of warm water just outside our tents for washing. The moon was gone. At Satsang, everyone bundled up. Porridge and toast for breakfast. Another long day of driving begins. The color scheme changed a bit—pinky peach and soft green. We are determined as a group to drink more and stop whenever necessary. Electrolytes were passed all around! 

The roads were better today, except for some first-class ditches. The valley was wider, went down and climbed again. We stopped frequently. Lunch break at 1:30pm just past Saga. Chapati, hot veggies, cheese…delicious. We presented yatra t-shirts to the sherpas, cook and driver of the truck. (We wonder which is the Chinese spy?) Rocky hillside—greens, purple, rust… so beautiful. Flocks of sheep scamper by. Dark yaks dot periodic hillsides. Several small groups lead a few dogs and heavily-laden donkeys. The children are more shy when we stop. We tried to keep windows open for air, but the dust won out every time.

We made camp on another grassy field by a stream—through groups of yaks. I thoroughly enjoyed washing clothes by the stream. Also washed my hair with the solar shower—no different than dumping pots of water on my head, but it was fun to try. I don’t think we’ll be having full showers—there are no trees to hang the solar unit from! We had a light dinner of tea and cream of tomato soup, with canned pears for dessert. Arati. Bed before 10!

Wednesday, June 14

Another nice wash before 6:00am Satsang. Rice porridge with meusli on top for breakfast! Tiri/Tsering, our driver, keeps the car meticulously clean—inside and out. We trust him implicitly. Jai to Tiri. He is always checking the tires and underneath the car. We have become the lead car. Whether it’s an earned position or not, at least we get less dust. 

We are seeing less of the Tibetan compounds with yak dung decorations lining the tops of the walls. Little magenta orchid/petunia flowers grow right out of the sandy soil.

Roads were bad—deep ruts, very sandy—sometimes not even a road. We got through carefully— passing two stuck trucks. Then our provisions truck blew a tire and one of our cars got stuck But Tiri got him right out with a tow line. Green prickly grasses changed to golden grasses in wider valleys—being so high, the mountains seem shorter. We passed a few odd, very smooth golden sand dunes, which look surreal against the snowy mountains behind.

The snowy Nepali mountain range to the south stayed with us all afternoon. For lunch at the Yak Hotel in Paryang, the sherpas served baked beans and curry paratha. They offered us Tang to drink.

Long drive. Many tough spots. Had to stop at a couple of check points today. Young Chinese officials filled out paperwork and let us pass each time.

Took a walk around, waiting for the truck this morning. Perfect silence. So many different animal tracks leading to the small water supply. Felt alone and connected.

Much singing, chanting and storytelling in the car.

We forded quite a river to get to a good place to camp.

Using the neti pot never felt so good.

Walked up a small hill with Parvati and Kailas. Pile of beautifully-carved mani stones and view of S-curving river. Canned cherries for dessert with fresh local sheep yogurt.

Thursday, June 15

Up at the usual 5:30am. Rice porridge and fried sheep cheese after Satsang. Played with the local children while the sherpas finished packing the tents, burying the garbage and loading the truck. Another tiring, ambitious day driving. Finally stopped around 2:00pm for lunch in a thick grassy field, cut by streams. Sheep lined up in the distance, either being fed or milked. A protective yak with her baby shared the field.

A passing car brought the message that our truck was broken down. But just as we were going to raid the snack bag, our truck with its big cloud of dust came into view! Gray clouds had blown over and many of us were sitting in the cars. Sherpas served us thick chapatis, cheese and chickpeas in the cars. They came by the windows offering seconds. Nothing phases them!

No too long after, the holy Lake Manasarovar came into view, a blue slice in the distance. It is the highest freshwater lake in the world. We continued on and “Om Tryambakam”-ed for the truck to make it through the ditches. Mount Kailas came into view! We stopped by a mound of prayer flags, faced the mountain and chanted many Om Tryambakams. Lots of pristine snow on the visible south face. Neighboring mountains look distinctly like the Potala Palace in Lhasa!

Thunder rumbled as gray clouds dropped rain on surrounding mountains.

Drove to the lake for an auspicious dip. Men and women separated and walked far into the lake. Not as cold as we had feared! 

Proceeded to Kailas. Seemed like we were trying to make up time, but there were so many ditches, steep bits and rushing streams. We couldn’t take our eyes off the mountain as we drove past Darchen and around toward the west side. We joined a field of pilgrims camping. It was cold. 

The supply truck arrived sooner than we dared expect. It had been slowed by the terrain. Carrying fuel for the entire journey, it’s ancient tank had sprung a leak too…

Light rain began to fall. Mount Kailas was swallowed in clouds. Before the sherpas presented the noodle soup dinner, a thin rainbow shone overhead and the round moon peeked over the mountaintop! I was feeling a bit light-headed in the food tent.

I could have taken a photo every fifteen minutes as the clouds changed around Mount Kailas’s distinctive shape. (It’s peeking up slightly to the left of center in the photo.)

Tibet Travelogue, Part 3

by | Mar 2, 2023 | Karma Yoga

Friday, June 16, 2000 • Near Darchen, 15,000 foot elevation

Tempe got back at midnight and hadn’t been able to secure yaks because of all the people in town for the Peace Pole Raising Ceremony (part of the ancient monthlong Saga Dawa Festival). We got a rest day! Mount Kailas was elusive all day. We hurried through breakfast to go see the pole raised at 10:00am, but it didn’t happen until 1:00pm! We circled the festival three times and stood back to take in the scene. At least 1,000 people were celebrating the birth, death and enlightenment of the Buddha. Huge amounts of sage burned. Bunches of large incense were carried by many. Vendors had theirs wares out on blankets—jewelry, antiques, prayer flags, shirts, shoes… Women worked the crowd with their bags of goodies to sell and were quite persistent. So many horns and drums and monks. Kailas and I watched while Tempe and a driver handed out shoes to anyone asking for money around the pole parikrama route!

We took time to organize the food and clothes needed for the Kailas parikrama. The grayness on Kailas led Lobsang to think it might be snowing at the high pass! Carol offered a solar shower—not really warm. Two sherpas got in on the action. What a scene just to wash my hair! One to hold the bag of water up, one to pump and one to hold the hose up… voila!

At 4:00pm, Swami Vasishtananda performed a Rudra Homa. Many Tibetans gathered around—even Chinese police. We offered ghee to the fire out of individual brass dishes 108 times. An auspicious spatter of rain finished the homa. 

The sherpas never cease to amaze us—pizza and vegetable momos for dinner! (That one pizza served the 15 of us comfortably.)

Rains came.

Yaks have been arranged from 40km away for the morning. They’ll leave at 5:00am and arrive by 9:30am. We’ve been informed they’re not strong and we should pack lightly!

Saturday, June 17

Up and ready to begin the parikrama. We had planned to leave at 9:00am, but were advised to wait for the yaks to arrive. Two women managed 13 yaks! Lobsang and Bemba were pointing out the differences between the yaks and the different Tibetan names for “with horns”, “half white face”, “white spot on face”, etc. We left our bags to be loaded onto the yaks and began walking. Kailas was to lead and set an easy pace. People were anxious and pushing to go faster. We stopped very often to let everyone catch up.

Walking in the valley between two craggy brown mountains, I began to feel the energy flow. Water streamed off the mountains in tall waterfalls regularly on both sides. The “river” happily flowed away from the mountains. Would have loved to stop and soak it in! Such uplifting energy. Lobsang told me to put a jacket on. We weren’t moving fast enough to overheat. Just a few minutes after I did, a light rain began to fall. Very soon, we stopped under the tarp of a “tea shop” where our sherpas served lunch. The rain fell harder outside. I felt claustrophobic, but forced myself to eat. Pee behind rocks up the field and we were off again. Sadasiva looked pale and a yak was arranged for him.

More dramatic mountains and the slow pace made the trip manageable.

Camp was beautiful. The closest we get to Mount Kailas—the north face. Mountains in all directions.

I had to eat my dinner outside in the cold. Inside I would have struggled with the one serving. Outside, I could have eaten two more platefuls.

A few of us headed up the hill, hoping for a more expansive view of Mount Kailas. After some huffing and puffing in the altitude, we found more tents and a long walk among boulders to a snowy field. A trudge through that snow would take you to the glacier up against Mount Kailas! No time or energy!

Tibetans processed through our camp making a kora around the stupa. Some greeted us with big smiles and “Tashidelly.” Others were lost in devotion. As night fell, Mount Kailas—perfectly clear—gleamed. One group stood in front of some of our tents, staring up at the mountain forever. They pointed to every detail. So sweet.

Up several times in the night. Jai to the beautiful mountain.

Sunday, June 18 • Drölma La Pass

Cold Satsang. Preparations for our big day: the 18,500-foot Drölma La Pass (5636 m)! Sadasiva stayed back to wait for the yaks to be loaded—they would all catch up. We set off at a slow pace, looking ahead, wanting a view of what we had to conquer. A steady stream of people in the distance showed the way. We crossed a wide stream, jumping boulders and wood planks. Up we climbed, steadily, one foot in front of the other. People passed us every time we stopped and greeting us brightly. The path curved steadily uphill. As we climbed, I felt like my stomach would explode and my throat became sore. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Don’t sit down. Don’t lose the momentum. A stupa with a grand array of prayer flags came into view. I took a few pictures, but the effort was great. Sent out some prayers. Conserved energy. Passed through the charnel grounds. Clothing was strewn everywhere. I left a piece of my Dad’s shirt. Rest in peace.

The sherpa’s were waiting with lunch on the boulders at the top. Eat? Guess it was a good idea. We fastened the prayers flag we’d prepared into one long chain and affixed them to the fluttering mass already there. Sherpas called us to leave then, as the wind was picking up, threatening a change of weather. Tempe went back to find Sadasiva and bring lunch. We continued without them. Across a snowy lake. Above an icy green sacred lake—Lake Yokmo Tso, Lake of Compassion, one of the highest lakes in the world (5608 m). We curved up, down and around. Mount Kailas hadn’t been in sight since morning. We were ready to sit when we got to the east side of the mountain. There seemed a perfect place for camping—but no sign of our sherpas who’d gone ahead.

Kailas got out his trusty binoculars and found our tents in the distance. We took off hastily toward camp, which was much farther than it had seemed. I was exhausted on arrival. Once the blue tents were set up and claimed, we had tea, then dinner. It was only after dinner that Sadasiva and Tempe arrived. 

My back ached from carrying the backpack all day. Didn’t sleep well. Parvati and I rubbed peppermint foot lotion on each others’ feet and had a gargle party.

Tibet Travelogue, Part 4

by | Mar 1, 2023 | Karma Yoga

Monday, June 19, 2000

We need to return the yaks today. We walked just shy of Darchen. There are surprisingly few sore muscles among the group. We get no view of Kailas as we walk to the east of it. Rocks are much more varied here than over the high pass. With head down out of the sun, I can’t stop picking up the green ones, pink ones, streaked ones. Lobsang explains that they will bring protection from fire, earthquake, etc. He collects a pocketful, too.

There are many stupas along the route. We decide to build a lingham and hang our official Sivananda Millennium Peace Mission flag. We wonder how long it will remain… 

Lunch was in a field in front of Milarepa’s Cave. We agree we should come back on a karma yoga trip to clean up the garbage. Parvati and Vishwakarma buy Cokes somewhere. Sellers tell them just to throw the empty cans outside!

Though I was tired, I decided to join those climbing up to the Cave of Miracles—a small, not-terribly-well-kept structure. It was small and dingy inside, with once-colorful banners and small butter lamps.

What a welcome sight to see the cars and drivers at camp! Back aching, I sat down to rest. The ground was a bit gravelly. Wondered where the tents would go, as only the kitchen tent seemed to be up… but, down a steep hill on a grassy strip of ground, right by the rushing river, stood the nine blue tents, plus food tent! So welcoming!

Tuesday, June 20

We load our bags on the truck this morning and begin the final leg of the parikrama. No Mount Kailas in sight. The terrain was basically flat with some gullies to wind down into and up out of. I try not to collect more rocks.

We’re given ten minutes to shop as we pass through the makeshift town of Darchen. We recognize the women vendors under the flapping, striped plastic tarps from the Saga Dawa festival. When we don’t make enough purchases in their shops, they follow us with their bags of wares. “Looky, looky.” As long as one person is slightly interested, they will not give up.

Finally, the Saga Dawa pole came into view. One very boggy field to cross and we’d made it! We had completed the 52 km (32 mile) parikrama route. (Fit local Tibetan people can make Kailash Kora in a single day in 15 hours.)

Lobsang produced a simple lunch from his pack which we ate right there. Then, happy to be reunited with our drivers, we headed to the holy Lake Manasarovar. Camp was already set up near Chiu Gompa Monastery and adjacent hot springs.

tWednesday, June 21

After breakfast and a trip to the monastery, we packed up and set off for a better lakeside camping spot. We took walks and most people took advantage of the afternoon sun to do laundry. It fluttered everywhere.

I taught the 4:00pm yoga class. What a privilege to teach in this spot! Mount Kailas cleared in the distance, so we faced that direction for sun salutations. Not everyone felt up to doing pranayama and we took long relaxations between poses. It was still hard to catch my breath, despite having been at altitude for two weeks already. Three graceful ibis strolled by and then flew away.

After Satsang, we emerged from the tent to an amazing sky. On Peking time, it gets dark late. The snowy mountains at the south end of the lake were perfectly clear. There were strips of glowing clouds in the western sky. Mount Kailas was obscured by gray clouds. In the north, big angry clouds were blowing away, shadows deeply darkening the mountains below. And to the east, the sandy mountains were topped by a luminous pink sky!

When I got up just after midnight to answer the call of Nature, I wanted to wake everyone up—the stars were amazing, a thick layer absolutely filling the sky…

Thursday, June 22

What a luxury to stay in the same place for another day! Lobsang and Tenpa were concerned we’d have trouble at the border and recommended we leave a day early. Five of us had flights to catch from Kathmandu on the 27th.

We did yoga at 8:00am and 4:00pm. The wind blew me over in headstand! I did my last batch of laundry. So nice to wash it in a stream. The sun and wind dried it quickly.

We all walked down to the lake, where Swami Vasishtananda made our final offerings. We collected water, pebbles and sand to distribute to all the Sivananda Ashrams and Centers.

Friday, June 23

On the road again—retracing our steps for maybe 8 hours. Yak skulls and jaws were strewn here and there. We camped outside Prayang, just past a checkpoint.

Saturday, June 24

This was the coldest morning yet—with frost and ice. Another full driving day. We passed familiar gravel fields of magenta flowers. At one point, a large herd of sheep decided to charge across the “road” in front of our car! “Om Mani Padme Hum” seemed to be floating in the air. We camped just outside Saga. There was not much flowing water. Swami Vasishtananda was singing, “No bath today” to the tune of Namosthute. The local Tibetans were very curious about us and had no qualms about sitting near and staring into our tents.

Sunday, June 25

We took a car ferry at Saga, then headed south to Nyalam, then further south on the secondary road to Nepal. We climbed and climbed toward magnificent snowy mountains. Hard to drink it all in. We had our last picnic lunch on the blue tarp. The road climbed some more before beginning to descend, winding its way back to… trees! We saw trees! And agriculture and villages. Life! It was bittersweet to be back in civilization, but I slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

Monday, June 26

We head for the border, following the powerful river. Waterfalls cascaded on both sides from high up in the mountains. A spectacular sight. We drove right through a torrent of waterfall! The road got muddier and rougher, and then… we were stopped. Road construction! The road was impassable. Before we knew what was happening, eight porters were hired to carry the luggage from our four cars. (That’s about four heavy pieces per person.) Our bags were grabbed and we ran after them! I didn’t take my eyes off my bag. Such chaos. Down precarious stone steps, dirty steep slopes… down, down, down… My legs were shaking, knees wobbling. We rested just shy of the Chinese immigration in Zhangmu and waited for the others. We pass through with no problem, ride in an open back truck, then walked across Friendship Bridge to have our Nepali visas stamped. Then a bus drove us down through small towns, more waterfalls. Terraced mountains brought us to more traffic and… a paved road.

Back to Kathmandu. Back to Los Angeles.

I am forever blessed and humbled by the Holy Mountain.

Om Namah Sivaya.