Dreaming of the Himalayas

[images from teameverestthemovie.com]

Last night I watched the most remarkable documentary, about a team of people with serious disabilities - five in wheelchairs, other challenges, including a man a prosthetic leg - who, with a team of  Sherpas and support people, trekked for 21 days through the Himalayas. It is called Team Everest, A Himalayan Journey. There is spectacular footage of the beauty of that harsh and rugged landscape. It was wonderful to watch, as a part of my heart belongs in the Himalayas. (With my karma, I expect I'd be one of the Sherpas, carrying a body larger than my own up a steep cliff, hee hee! I so relate!)

 

The people with disabilities made the trek to fulfil their dreams, and to prove that their disabilities could not prevent them from reaching the heights: "No limits!" I was amazed as I watched their journey. They endured  the most difficult circumstances any human being can encounter, life-threatening for trekkers in sound physical condition. And they achieved their goal, being the largest group of people with disabilities to reach Mount Everest Base Camp.

But it was the Sherpas whom I saw to be the real heroes, for they pushed, pulled and dragged the trekkers, and often carried them on their backs, for the entire expedition. I watched in astonishment as a small Sherpa bent his back, while on the woven basket  attached to his forehead, a heavy North American body, sometimes still in his wheelchair, was loaded onto him. He would carry the person for about twenty minutes, and then another Sherpa would take his place.

The terrain was rough, rocky and difficult, even in the villages they passed through. Not one inch of the journey was easy. Often there was slippery oozing mud, sometimes ice. And, always, the next footstep was onto rough, unstable and shifting terrain where at any moment any one of them might fall onto hard rock or even over the edge of a precipice, and vanish forever.

It is one of the most incredible journeys I have ever witnessed. I cannot imagine it. My favorite scene is at the end, when the group reaches base camp, against all odds, and the Sherpas joyously break into song and dance inside the communal tent.

Human beings are amazing creatures. This journey certainly made walking through a Canadian winter, in my comfy trailer, with heat, running water, and comfort at every turn, feel like a walk in the park:)

In The Infinitely Possible Universe.....

Taking time out of time,
I can,
this morning,
without leaving home,
lift my heart out of life's
gobbling dailyness,
setting it free
amongst
the infinitely
possible
universe.........

I am sitting in an upper row
at the Imax,
and on the big screen
in front of me
spreads the Kalahari,
lions stretching and yawning
in the amber glow
of the African veld,
herds of wildebeeste
flowing across
the brown and endless land,
a wave of life
surging to a
common shore.

Now I'm siting
in a stone hut
in the Himalayas,
drinking butter tea.
In the glow of the fire,
warm brown faces
smile at me
with kind eyes,
their expressions radiant
with the peace
of their hearts'
simplicity.

Walk with me
along
the Great Wall of China,
then let's nip over to
see the rounded shapes
of the Mystic Mountains.

Or travel the Camino,
five hundred miles
a pilgrim,
sleeping on stone benches,
the trail one long thirst.

In Dharamsala,
I sit with red-robed monks,
in a silence so vast
the veil parts,
I am half in
and halfway out,
co-existing
between two worlds.

There are
no limits
here.

So now we travel space,
a vast blackness,
stars scudding past,
exploding and imploding,
the glow
of comet-dust
upon our seeing eyes.

Time to come home,
and I'm most happy to -
home to my tiny trailer,
with its barking dogs,
its clean, green
sweep of yard
full of marmalade-colored leaves,
cheerful with Tibetan prayer flags,
bamboo wind chimes,
waiting porch swing.

When I first wrote these words
my nearest neighbor
was a tender newborn foal,
small as a medium-sized dog,
who clung to life
with a sweet tenacity
and spooky pale-blue
and inquiring
eyes.

He left this world
fourteen months later,
was buried with his
favorite ball
in a green spot
where now an apple tree
blooms each spring.

There is a bench
there,
for sitting,
and remembering
Baby Leo,
his spirit
now running free
in some other
parallel
reality
in this
infinitely
possible
universe.