Submitted by Matt, 32, Chicago

I had become stuck at home, mid-way through college. Growing increasingly unsatisfied with a life that seemed to be happening more to me than by me, I had an intense desire to travel far from what I knew - where in particular mattered less. The mysticism and mystery of the Himalayas was attractive, and my mind was full of the stereotypes of a serene people, a pristine environment, and its idyllic setting. Having grown up in the city of Chicago, the Himalayas suggested a Shangri-la refuge from the blind and frenetic energy of the big city America I knew.

Over a three-week period, I walked the Yolmo valley, hoping to experience the energy that the many sacred sights were believed to have. My first stop was an 11th century cave which was missing some of its rustic character thanks to a locking door, a recently poured concrete floor, and a nearby hut for the caretaker. But inside were signs of centuries of religious devotion - worn images of revered saints, statues, butter lamps, and garlands of newly cut flowers - signs of human devotion that hinted at an unseen inner depth.

But my hours of solitude in this holy place revealed much more than the outer trappings. As I sat, legs crossed on a folded mattress pad, wrapped in a sleeping bag, I attempted to settle into the moment. At times my thoughts drifted to home, to my next meal, to the crazy concept of this 20-something American kid meditating in a cave somewhere close to the roof of the world. As amazing as this was, even more seductive was the thought of myself actually doing it. For along with my quest for authentic experience came a desire to envision myself as a mountain hermit-yogi - eschewing society and convention to devote myself fully to the path of spiritual experience. This desire, it turns out, was the biggest impediment of all to my meditation. In order to reap the benefits of my journey, I had to overcome my attachment to it.

Sacred places promise more than the basic five senses can offer. The 'power' I found there wasn't to do with what I found inside them. It was in the inspiration they gave me to explore my own personal space. To view the caves only as destinations was to miss their true power.

So there I was, at 10,000 feet, a weeks walk from the nearest electicity and on my way to another sacred cave. Crossing over the cloud-covered rim of the valley, I reached a pass marked by stacked stones and a torn prayer flag. Beyond it was a bowl-shaped valley of barren rock, descending to a cliff and overlooking a line of snow-capped peaks that stretched unbroken to the horizon.

Behind me was a plane of clouds, stretching, it seemed, across the globe to my home in Chicago. I was literally at the furthest imaginable geographic point from my family, my friends, and all to which I was accustomed, yet it felt as though I could reach out and touch them. I had come halfway around the globe on my search for sacred places and found that the most powerful one of all was the one I had brought with me.

Matt went on to become a school teacher and later earned his PhD in the Learning Sciences at Northwestern University. Together with colleagues he has recently set up an educational design company: www.inquirium.net

previous story / next story

(c) 2DO Before I Die 2004