The small and smiling monk, sat to my right, turned to face me. The full force of his kind and gentle yet strong as steel eyes looking into mine.
To my left, Mark sat with his head bowed, tracks of tears running down his face. He looked exhausted, as if he had been through a battle. But he also looked lighter and cleaner too, as if something bad had shifted from him, some poison or pain gone from his body.
I cleared my throat. Now the attention was on me, I felt a terrible shyness before such a holy and wise person. Spectating on Marks interview was intensely moving, but very easy, Now I would have to stand up to the mark, as bravely and honestly as he had done.
'Yes,' I said slowly. 'I would like to ask your blessing and your permission for something'.
We were sat round a table, in a small and bare reception room, in a half built institute on the other side of the city. In no way could it be considered a warm or inviting space - the table was covered in shiny vinyl, the chairs were hard, the once white walls looked as if they could do with a coat of paint, There was no posters or signs on the walls, no plants, no personal effects anywhere. It was a functional and cold room.
Outside it was quite noisy. There was building work going on over head, and so the sound of men shouting, bricks and steel rods and other supplies being thrown around, machines doing there jobs. The dogs of the institute didn't seem to like the builders, so they kept up a critical commentary, barking their disapproval at the work going on.
But as soon as we sat down with the Lama, then all those distractions just melted away. A still and pregnant and expectant and almost holy if you like, atmosphere fell. There was nothing but his compassionate and intelligent eyes boring into your own. Nothing but his gentle voice talking softly to you.
Mark had been given the name and email address of the Llama by a business client and friend in Chicago. 'If you are in Kathmandu, look him up' Iris Wang had told him. 'He was my Buddhist teacher there. If there is anything troubling your, or anything you would like to ask, then there is no better person to do so'.
After our descent from Everest, we emailed Khenpo Jordan, the Director or the International Business Association I didn't really think he would have time for us, as looking at his website, he appeared to be a very important person.
But the email came back quickly, 'Sure. Come to the IBA building in Tinchuli Chowk at 1pm Sunday'. Then almost immediately after, 'So sorry, can you make 4pm? I have a dentists appointment at 1'.
So at about half past three, we climbed into a taxi and headed through the rush hour traffic to the other side of the city. Travelling through the unfamiliar neighbourhoods would normally have been fascinating but we were both thinking about the monk.
'Do you know what you are going to ask him?' I asked Mark.
'Yes, no, I don't know. I will play it by ear. I have never met a Llama before'. Mark pensively looked out of the window. There was a lot on his mind, I could see.
As for myself, an idea had started to appear in my mind, but I didn't know if I would speak. This was Mark's mission really not mine.
We found the IBA building, surprisingly easily as it was behind several warehouses off the main road, and walked in. It seemed to be empty and half finished, but at the far end of the courtyard, there was a monk, waving a greeting to us. 'Come in, Come in!' he welcomed us into the interview room.
We started off with small talk. Mark told him about how he knew Iris, I talked about my motor cycle and my trip across India. Just gentle talk we might have had with anyone. It didn't feel that special or significant. But then he turned his glittering eyes to Mark and said 'But what would you really like to ask me?' and everything changed.
And then it was my turn. 'And do YOU have anything you would like to ask me?'
'Yes,' I said slowly. 'I would like to ask your blessing and your permission to do something'. He nodded, his eyes still smiling with compassion.
'Back in England I was a teacher, A good teacher. I loved my pupils, and I loved my job.
'But its hard work. It takes everything from you. after five years, I was utterly exhausted. Maybe I was burnt out.
'I quit my job, came out to India, got my motorbike and started travelling. I suppose that I was looking for a new direction in life, new goals. Teaching was amazing, but I was not sure if it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
'And I have actually found what I want to do next. I wasn't expecting it, wasn't wanting it, but it just kind of happened,
[Extract Removed]
I stopped, breathless. I hadn't meant to make myself so vulnerable, exposing an ambition I had been nursing in secret carefully for several weeks now.
[Extract removed]
I draw a deep breath, as I did then, and carry on.
'My second request is your permission', I said to the Llama. 'I don't know if you are the right person to ask, but I can think of no one better. Its a strange sort of thing, I don't really know how to explain it.
'We have just got back from climbing to Everest Base Camp. Whilst we were travelling, I felt all the time a presence with me. I felt like I was walking in someones footsteps.
'I met and spoke to lots of people, monks, guesthouse owners, sherpas, guides, everywhere it seemed there was someone with me, Padmasambhava.
'When I first looked at Everest, from the hill above Namche, I though this is a lost Kingdom, in a hidden valley at the end of the world. My guide gave me a short book about Buddhism in Nepal and I read a little about Guru Rinpoche calling this area Kumbu Valley, a beyul, or sacred valley, where people and plants and wildlife would be protected. It all seemed to fit. I tried to finish the story, but each time something more would happen. I just couldn't let it go.
'I would like your permission to write a story about Padmasambhava.
'I am not a practising Buddhist, or a scholar, but I feel very close to him in some way. I don't know why. It wouldn't be a normal Buddhist book or history or teachings, in fact Idont know what kind of book it would be at all, but I just know that it is in there somewhere waiting to come out'.
I stopped breathless again. Khenpo Jordan was watching me intently. whilst I was speaking the whole world seemed to fade out, but it came crashing back to me now.
I waited, head bowed, exhausted too. What would he say to me? Was I being silly, or melodramatic or presumptuous. I waited to be judged.
'You know teaching is a blessed career. You change peoples lives. You can see the good that you do in the world.
'It is not so different to what I do. I teach, just different lessons.
'I can see that you love it, but it is not always enough. If you feel you have another calling then you must follow it.[extract removed] I give you my blessing.
'Padmasambhava is one of my favourite teachers. I have always felt close to him too. He once said "Whoever is Close to me, I am with them." I think he is close to you too.
'Please write about him. It doesn't matter that you are not a Buddhist Scholar, he is in your heart and that is enough. I know that you will write a good book. Please, send it to me, I will read it.
'Now, both of you, write your names down for me, and I will include you in my prayers'.
We did as he asked, and then shook hands and hugged. Mark and I had tears in our eyes, Jordan was smiling and happy and unpeturbed.
'Thankyou sir, thankyou', we both said many times., he just smiled and waved us off.
Outside the compound, we had to pause a minute to gather ourselves.
'Phew. Wow. What do you say to that?', I asked.
'I want a cigarette!' Mark exclaimed. He as if anything more shaky than me. 'That was like nothing else. What a privilege'.
'We don't smoke' I reminded him.
'I know, I know. Look, lets go for a walk. I'm not ready to go back yet.
So we walked around the remote suburb of Kathmandu in the gathering dusk. There was little traffic, children, teenagers and adults of all ages were out in the streets, playing, talking, gossiping. It felt very safe and comfortable. No one gave the two slightly dazed westerners a second glance, even though it must have been quite rare to see them in this area.
'I'm not really ready to talk about the details of what he said,' Mark commented, 'but I think he was probably the wisest man I have ever met. It rang true everything he spoke about, from unconditional love, to grasping love to letting go. What an amazing amazing experience. I know its a cliche, going to Kathmandu and meeting a Llama, but really, that was amazing'.
I had to agree. I felt the force of his personality, his kindness and wisdom too.
So I have had a blessing to start my new direction, and a task to write a book about Padmasambhava. I will definitely be coming back to Nepal.
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