Riding a White Horse with the Wind: Drak Choeling

Six months ago Kinsang was a clean shaven monk entering the Drak Choeling retreat on the cliffside above Jakar, Bumthang. I'm still processing in my mind the rainy afternoon we spent together. What possesses a young man's mind to enter an almost three years long silent retreat? How different is this man's mind from mine?

A short story from the day helped me to see into a small window of understanding: I offered a small chunk of my cheese to Kinsang as we shared lunch. I assumed that after months and months of rice, cabbage and dried noodle snacks he would devour it ravenously. Rather, he took my offering and slowly nibbled away, seeming to take little pleasure.

I understood his acts as an illustration of The Middle Path. Months of suffering on the chill cliffside in the monsoon, gathering fire wood, praying, brought little complaint. "It's difficult, but it's OK" he said. Sweet cheese brought seemingly the same response - nibbles and a soft "Thank you." A man living inside The Middle.

Eight months from now Kinsang will begin the silent part of his time at Drak Choeling. This time now is just a warm-up. Three years, three months then three weeks will pass as he prays and prays and prays. 1,000,000 prostrations. He will not speak to or meet a soul outside the drak.

We hiked over to the cave where Guru Rinpoche, who gave the gift of Buddhism to Bhutan, spent his time of retreat. We sat in silent awe then joked about how Rinpoche had also given the gift of a crooked cypress tree branch to the chillups (foreigners in Dzonka language) so they wouldn't tumble off the cliff.

We did a lot of walking around Bumthang during our week there in mid-September. Among all the remarkable people we met and mind blowing days we had, this man and this day will stand out. I will always wonder if I could last a day living Kinsang's life. Could he last a day living mine? Anyway, I think we could be friends.