After helping Christina navigate the Sri Lankan medical system, she obtained her wrist surgery in Colombo. She looked towards recovery and it was time for me to decide my next step. The Vipassana suggestion from Nadeek still scared me but filled my mind with contemplation and mystery. I felt pulled in to it in the way that knew there was something there.
Vipassana – a ten-day silent meditation experience; observing reality, exactly as it is. It intrigued me the discipline, radical simplicity, and inward focus. The goal is simple: sit still, long enough to watch sensation arise and pass. It spoke to my goals as well; to develop real strength; the transcendental strength that comes from the mind and earn my freedom from anxious tendencies. I wanted to return to the idea that this trip is about realizing and not becoming who I am.
When I arrived in Anuradhapura, things became real. I visited some of the most beautiful sacred Buddhist sites in the world. This is the location where Buddhism came to rise in Sri Lanka 2,500 years ago. Where the King was met by a Buddhist monk from India who taught him Dhamma; a way of her peace through seeing reality with clarity and wisdom. Since then, Sri Lanka has preserved its purity, and practice in the Buddhist traditions.
Mihintale Sunset
After two days of touring the ancient city, I arrived at the Dhamma Anuradhapura Vipassana Meditation Center. This non-secular center of realization will become my new home for the next 10 days. I check in and meet fellow travelers spanning across Europe and Asia. I turn in my phone, books, journal, and anything that could be an egoic distraction on the journey. The realization sinks in that I am about to loose touch with the outside world and live with monk like simplicity for the next 10 days. This is a commitment complimented by the fact there are several Buddhist Monks and Nuns who are also enrolled in the retreat. I let go of expectation and resign to my initial goal of commitment of deeper self knowledge.
4am to 9:30pm, with lots of meditation between
A Recap:
The ten days araised and passed. The experience is difficult to put to words and I don’t feel compelled to. I am grateful for the opportunity delve deeply into my body and subconscious mind. On day 10, after completing our final mediation, I felt cathartic sadness and compassion. Compassion for myself in the realization that, “Everything changes”. For years, I have watched the world, friends and family, change around me, all the while wondering if I can change.
The ten day retreat encompassed some of most difficult and beautiful moments of my life. I realize the weight, that wanting things to be different has caused. Everything is temporary. It made me want to love family more deeply, hug friends harder and enjoy this moment of freedom in my life to a new level. A realization that clinging hurts more than change ever could. Everything changes, and so do I.
Through reflecting on the experiance, I have already felt so much benefit. I think others could as well! There are Vipassana meditation centers with 10 day courses all around the world. If this inward journey speaks to you, I highly suggest that you look into it. It is all donation based so that price is not a limiting factor. You can also reach out to me if you have any questions!
“Ayubowan” they said – I wish you a long life. I didn’t know it then, but the island was about to ask me what kind of life I wanted to live. I heard it first on my Sri Lanka airlines flight from Kathmandu, to Colombo where I was unexpectedly upgraded to business class on the 3 hour flight.
At the time, my travels to Sri Lanka felt less like a natural continuation of the spiritual journey and more an escape from depth. The trip began with a plan that my cousin, Christina and I had made: to meet for the holidays, on the beach in Sri Lanka. We were both solo traveling, temporarily free from work, and interested in surfing. There I was standing in the immigration line, among honeymooners and backpackers.
I spent my first night in Colombo, before boarding a train south toward the tropical beaches of the southern province. Christina met me at the Weligama train station, and I climbed onto the back of her red motorbike. She took me for my first proper Sri Lankan meal and dropped me at my homestay. Experiencing the gift of family on the other side of the planet felt like a warm hug.
Coffee on the beach and a morning surf
I set up shop in Midigama, a quiet surfer’s village tucked between two busier touristy towns. I stayed first with Yelum at Lotus Surf House and later at Hot Tuna Guesthouse, just across from the beach and the surf break. I rented a motorbike and a surfboard, and with a promising forecast ahead, life was good.
Christmas came and went and we celebrated around the table with Christina’s housemates and friends. After nearly snapping a surfboard in a crowded lineup, I decided to step away from surfing for a few days. Christina and I rode along the southern edge of the island to Silent Beach, where jungle spilled dramatically into the ocean. Waves broke against the sand and the thick forest hung overhead. On the ride home, an impromptu Perahera parade honoring the Buddha stalled our progress and added an unexpected layer of culture to the adventurous day.
Day trip around the island featuring a blowhole, A scene from the Perahera (top) The Christmas Day spread (bottom)
As the days passed, I began to wonder what Sri Lanka had in store for me. Russian and European tourists were everywhere, and I felt uneasy about being perceived as just another consumer in a country so dependent on tourism. The pull of that momentum began to clash with my initial intention for self-empowering travel. The humidity slowed me down, and I felt afraid to commit to a next step.
Desiring more adventure, I fueled up a motorbike and set out on a 300-kilometer loop through the southern province. My first stop was Sinharaja Rainforest, Sri Lanka’s largest and most important rainforest, a UNESCO-protected site rich in endemic species. Entry required a guide and my guide, Sagara, led me into the forest he had grown up in and still called home. He was the GOAT of spotting camouflaged and hidden wildlife in the jungle. He showed me green garden lizards, oriental flying snakes, pit vipers, frogmouth birds, and countless other endemic species. Trekking through the rainforest felt immersive and grounding. This was how I wanted to travel. We ended the hike at a waterfall swimming hole, and I felt deeply grateful for both my guide and my freedom.
The entry way to the Sinharaja Rain Forest, The waterfall, Sagara and I, A close encounter with the endemic & venomous hump nose pit viper
After two days in the rainforest, and on New Year’s Eve, I followed went with my gut and continued my trip. I had heard about the wild elephants of Udawalawe National Park and wanted to pay them a visit. The road wound through a valley of tea plantations before descending into open plains. I arrived in the busy town near the park and searched for a place to stay, eventually pulling into Owl’s Rest Guest House. Basa greeted me with a peaceful smile. He handed me a glass of mango juice, and invited me to be one of the first to swim in his newly finished pool. Something felt immediately reassuring and I am thankful that I stayed.
That evening, we took a sunset elephant tour along the park’s edge. I sat in the passenger seat of Basa’s modified Mahindra jeep as we spotted massive wild elephants moving through the landscape. Back at his home, he served chicken curry with roti, introduced me to unfamiliar fruits. He welcomed me to spend the night with his family as they celebrated the New Year around a coffee table. We listened to Sri Lankan music and shared tea that eventually turned to beers.
The next day, I took a private safari tour through Udawalawe. While the wild elephants were breathtaking, the experience felt very different from the rainforest. Dozens of jeeps crowded around the wild animals, competing for the best angle for their customer. The elephants appeared calm, but there is no doubt that our presence was obstructive in some way. The gigantic beasts, motivated by instinct, spend the entire day in search of vegetation and water. There was no scenes of aggression, but it was clear that exiting the vehicle would be a bad decision.
New Year’s Eve with Basa , The wild elephants of Udawalawe
After my first (and likely last) jeep safari tour, I returned to Basa’s hospitality. Despite staying only one night, felt like I was a part of his family. His gorgeous home was filled with animal inspired metal workings, which he made using a vice grip and a wrench. Everything radiated care. When it came time to check out, I was blown away that the bill was somehow only $8.
Before riding on, I took time to reflect on the turning of the year. I considered my values; trusting my own inner knowing, honoring my family while reconciling my desire for freedom with responsibility. I hoped that my absence had not led them to a new struggle. I prayed that these travels would amount to some kind of immaterial success; love, partnership and to take care of the things that matter. The way I had learned this lesson in Nepal.
Gorgeous metal workings
With no reservations, I began my ride back toward Weligama. Halfway through the journey, the motorbike sputtered, cut out and rolled to a stop. It wouldn’t restart. A man, who had heard my mechanics issues, emerged from his home. He inquired why I was pushing my bike and I signaled with hand gestures, what had happened. He nodded, smiled and walked away.
Minutes later, he returned on his own motorbike. Using nothing but a shoelace, he towed me through the town to a mechanic shop, which turned out to be closed for the New Year. I began to consider my options. Would I have to call the motorbike owner to explain what happened? Would I be on the hook for the cost of the motorbike? Would I have to spend the night in this remote village?
As I thought through what to do next, three young men approach from a side street on motorcycles. Kavish got off the back of his friends motorcycle and explained that he was the son of my shoelace savior. Calm and confident, he urged me to be happy. “You are in Sri Lanka. Don’t worry.” After several rounds of troubleshooting he assured me, that this will get fixed, today. I looked at him with doubt but express my gratitude.
He transported me and the motorbike to the nearest mechanic 10 kilometers and when we arrived, the mechanic dropped everything and focused on my bike repair. With Kavish’s instruction, I took a seat and after ten minutes the mechanic had diagnosed and fixed the problem. It turned out to be a loose switch in the engine box. The bike immediately turned over and before I could react, I looked over to find Kavish’s friend paying for my repair. Despite my intent to deter him, I had no choice but to accept their generosity. When I asked how I could repay them Kavish said, “Tell your friends and family to visit Sri Lanka.” Humbled and in awe of the generosity, I promised to enjoy my time in Sri Lanka and to share its beauty.
Top: Kavish and his friend after fixing the motorbike, Scenes from the long ride back
As I rode away, I was fueled with gratitude for every person I passed. My entire state had changed to pure bliss and all due to the generosity of complete strangers. I had no idea that a broken down motorbike could result in one of the most meaningful experiences of my travels. Late afternoon thunder clouds rolled in and heavy rain began to fall. I sought solace under the cover of a roadside hopper stand. A 5-year-old boy proudly served me food and practiced English with me. It was playful and beautiful and when the rain eased and I continued forward, he said that he would “see me tomorrow” 🥹
I arrived at Christina’s in the dark and shared the stories of my adventure with her. I spent the first night of the year on her old sectional couch and woke up feeling energized. That morning, I went for a run, then Christina and I hit the weights and enjoyed Sri Lankan breakfast together. I returned to Midigama and connected with my friend Peter. I picked up a surfboard and we surfed “Lazy’s” right together. This was my ideal day and I was resolved that I would probably be soar for weeks. I began planning out my next steps; I would visit the old fortified city of Galle and then travel into the hill country.
In Galle, I stayed with Pinidu at his Old Parkland Hostel. He welcomed me in with the most delicious Sri Lankan breakfast of all time and I met a fellow American traveler named Brian. He had quit his health insurance job after the COVID pandemic led him to realize that life felt empty and had been traveling the world ever since. We shared conversations on Christianity, Hinduism and spirituality. It felt like we were on a similar journey in transition.
We visited the Galle fort together and walked the ramparts of the impressive fortified city. The fort which was originally built by the Portuguese in the 1500s, had been invaded by the Dutch and subsequently the British after they took control of the island in the 1800s. A rich history of European conquest and colonialism indeed. I wondered what the overall sentiment was towards the Europeans who now visited in herds.
Galle Fort
Listening to my inner knowing, I elected to stay in Galle another day. I met Klára, a beautiful young lawyer and aspiring fiction author who paid my temple entry fee after I showed up without funds. We toured the temple together and invited her to the jungle beach, and then later to dinner.
Arriving at jungle beach, I found it to be covered in lounge chairs and Russian tourist. This was not for me. I moved down the street to the Japanese Peace Pagoda and felt refuge in the gorgeous ocean view and tranquil energy. The hour-long drum meditation was unlike any I had done. I felt my new years energy begin to rise and open to life’s possibilities. A Buddhist volunteer named Nadeek suggested I explore a retreat being offered in Sri Lanka and that I consider spending time at a Vipassana center. His recommendation lingered with me and I knew there was something there to explore.
I continued onward, and made my way to the Lake Hostel in Hikkadua. This serene and mangrove encompassed hostel situated in the jungle was managed with love by Kiri and his lovely girlfriend. Together they served meals and organized events. With a private room and a contemplative mind, I spent my early mornings running along the coast, my afternoons biking the town and my evenings with a journal in hand. I met travelers from Germany, Australia, France, Argentina and contemplated my next steps.
Dinner with friends in Hikkadua, Rice and curry banquet, The Japanese Peace Pagoda
I considered my time at the Peace Pagoda and the serene calm that it gave me. It felt like a special place on the bustling coast line and I wanted to go back. After 3 days at the lake, I packed up and caught the bus back to the coastal Unawatuna. I arrived at the Peace Pagoda just in time for the 4:30pm drumming meditation and fell into a similar relaxed trance. I spoke to Nadeek and sought his reassurance that a Vipassana might not lead to my own psychological destruction. It seemed like an intimidating commitment and he didn’t understand my concern. He offered gentler options including a monastery in the mountains and strongly suggested that I learn a formal meditation practice to focus inward. He even invited me to stay in the guest house of the pagoda, if I desired. When I returned to my hostel to meet fellow travelers and share my new plan, I was met with a surprising phone call.
Christina was on the line, but it didn’t sound like her. She was in the hospital in Matara after a Tuk Tuk had collided with her motorbike. Thankfully she was okay, but her wrist had been severely fractured. “Should I agree to a surgery now, or have them attempt a reduction” she asked. In truth, I didn’t know, but without hesitation, I abandoned my plans and told her that I would be there first thing in the morning.
It seemed that the universe had reshuffled my deck, but clarity did arise. What mattered now was not my journey inward, but showing up fully for my family.
Sitting in the moonlight hotel at Low Camp 2,900 meters. The edge of a rhododendron forest which extends down to Kande. A perfect place to reflect on the past few days. We arrive around 1pm and sit in the sun while our chicken Dahl Bhat is prepared. Lunch is enjoyed and the day begets journaling, reading and ruminating. This is somehow the least intese day of the treck, but we have cover so much ground. This is Day 3 of Mardi Himel treck.
The trek began two days earlier with a cab ride from Pokhara to Kande. Together with my guide, Saraj, we created a plan and set out on a brisk pace. In day one, we trek 14 km with 860 meters of climbing. We trek until about 4:30pm until we arrive at our destination; Forest Camp. We arrive and are greeted by a young man, running an empty hotel. His family has gone back to their village for the winter, and with the trekking season ending, he too plans to return soon.
The air cools and the sun sets into the clouds. I offer to prepare my “mixed veggie” curry and am rewarded with a knife, cutting board and array of locally grown vegetables. Dinner is delicious, and Roxy- the local rice wine is served. It’s off to bed, with plans for 7am breakfast and back to the trail in the morning.
Day two begins; I wake after a restless night and pack up. We hit the trail with a shorter day planned. Traversing the rhododendron forest, we arrive at Badal Danda village. This is where tree line gives way to rocky landscape. The Matchaputre view is incredible and I study the mountain as I attempt to sketch its magnificent details.
The day continues as we cover 8km and 1,080 meters to arrive at High Camp- 3,500 meters in the early afternoon. The sun sets over an ocean of clouds. No doubt one of the best sunsets I’ve ever experienced. This somehow feels more spectacular than the countless sunsets I’ve seen over the pacific.
Day 3 begins after a restless night of congestion, headaches and fatigue at High Camp. The 4:30a alarm goes off and we prepare for Mardi Himal viewpoint and basecamp.
The pace feels slow as the congestion and altitude kick in, but we are passing groups on the endless staircases to the view point. We arrive at the viewpoint just as the red horizon glows with the impending sunrise. A waning moon hangs in limbo. Atop the viewpoint, there is a dilapidated shack. Saraj goes inside, and then calls me in. A circle of plastic chairs encompass a glowing wood furnace. The man in charge of the space, takes a kettle off of the wood stove and returns momentarily with two strong cups of black instant coffee. We sit around the furnace, collect ourselves from the 1km push and prepare for an epic sunrise .
Heading out to Mardi Himel basecamp, the yellow glow of the sun cracks over the mountains and it feels like things have come full circle. Sunset over an ocean of clouds to sunrise over the Himalayas. “Every sunrise is a gift”, I recall. It’s deafening silence, and profoundly peaceful. The darkness has again been defeated by the light. I look around and see the Himilayan peaks; Machapuchre, Ana Purna South, Hiunchlu, Gangapurna begin to glow with a golden gradient.
We proceed 500 meters more to Mardi Himel Base camp. At 4,500 meters- I’m not sure if this is the highest I’ve ever been, but it doesn’t matter. This is where the acclimatization begin for serious mountaineers.
We celebrate and take picture. I see Mardi Himel peak and imagine how much greater my love afair with Machaputre would be from the summit. I want to go further, so i scramble up a little bit further and am graced with the best low light valley view i could imagine.
We head back to High camp at a relaxed cadence. The weather was warmed to the point where in no longer need a jacket. It has been a morning to remember. Despite the lack of sleep, im feeling excited and powerful.
The treck comes to a natural close. We leave low camp and gradually descend into Sidhing. A crew of white jeeps await and we relax while others arrive to fill the jeep before we are taken back to the hotel in Pokhara.
This was my first experience in the Himalayan landscape and I pray that it won’t be my last. One of the most memorable experiences of the trek was the silence of the sunrise at Marti Himal basecamp. Through the powerful pause of the golden sunrise ascending, I felt my own power rise.
Here I am sitting in a transition point of my own life. I feel the excitement of endless possibilities and an understanding that it is never too late to change my way. I can take my life in any direction from here and yet im still not ready to make that choice.
As i sit with the trek, medical mission and experience in Nepal as a whole. I realize the hard truth of life; I won’t become ready by waiting until I feel ready. I won’t become ready by shying away from commitments, or ignoring responsibilities. I’ll become ready by choosing what is important and comiting to the next step. Just like the trek takes multi-day commitment to reach the sunrise, life requires intentionality. At the feet of this intentionality, is a unemotional decision; to show up and do what I say that I will do.
That’s the lesson I choose. As I approach two months on the road and with near constant movement, I feel ready to move towards something greater. I want to build something that will last beyond the photos and new friends. I want to internalize this lesson and honor what is truly important to me.
When I started my trip, what I craved was true freedom, and now I want something greater. As i make my way to the next destination, the sandy beaches and typhoon battered countryside of Sri Lanka, I’ve got lots to consider. While I have no doubt that what I will experience will be beautiful and exciting, I don’t want this to be just another distraction.
I want to use this time to heal, transform and honor what i say i want. Fear and anxiety will arise, but these are opportunities, not excuses. And I will become a better man.
Kathmandu welcomed me in. Arriving from India and spending my first two days at Wanderlust hostel was amazing. Finally a fun hostel situation which i felt I had been depriving myself of thus far. The city felt easy compared to where I had traveled in India. The intersections not nearly as noisy and the people were friendly! I spent the first two days investigating trecking options (guided vs non guided) and visiting Buddhist sites. Meditating on compassion, wisdom and service, all the while preparing for the medical mission that had brought me here.
Sunrise and Sunset from Swayambu -Monkey Temple
I met the Global First Responders Team on 12/5 and we boarded a bus for Manthali. As we left the urban sprawl of Kathmandu, I could never have guessed what I was in store for.
We picked up Dr. Suman Karmacharya on the way out. He is the selfless physician who brought healthcare to the Manthali area and surrounding villages usually by walking multiple days at a time, to areas where roads did not yet exist. Next we pick up Shanta, the woman, Dr. Suman had invited to serve as our translator for the trip and someone I would get to know more deeply.
The first thing notable were the roads. The further we got from Kathmandu, the worse the road conditions became. The area had been plagued by landslides, the worst of which had been brought on by rain, a year and a half prior. Despite ongoing efforts, the area had never recovered. Houses had fallen off ledges and the road had crumbled into the river bank for miles. It was destruction to point that it was unclear where the road had been. We bumped along a makeshift dirt path that had been forged on the river bed and it was clear that infrastructure was a major issue here. This stretch was challenging with low water levels and likely impassable during the rains.
We arrived in Manthali well after dark, and were greeted with floral garlads at Hotel Kasthamansar. We had a team meeting to discuss objectives for how to set up our triage, pharmacy and provider stations for the clinic the following day, then off to bed for an early wake.
GFR Team on arrival
Day one began as I rushed to familiarize myself with the Medication list which appeared foreign because of the different names in Nepal, and because of my inexperience as a general practitioner. Coming from a cardiothoracic surgery world- i feel ready to combat bleeding and blood pressure, but COPD and pelvic pain are a different story.
We take the bus up to Dhobi village, which lies isolated, deeper into the hills. Multiple rock slides delay our journey, and an excavator works to clear the dirt road. I now have a new bench mark for the worst road of my life and I realize this is the best bus driver that I have ever met.
We arrive to a rural hilltop clinic where people have already lined up for our arrival. I watch as the GFR team pulls together desks and chairs in an outdoor courtyard to create the mobile clinic. Patients are triaged with vitals and chief complaints and assigned to a provider. I anxiously await my first medical patient in nearly 8 years. I see villagers with issues ranging from osteoarthritis to hemmrhoids, anginal chest pain to ring worm. Did I mention GERD.. everyone has GERD, so much so that I beginning to feel GERD myself.
The woman of the village were proud and well put together. They adorned layers of clothing that made joint examination feel like unwrapping a blanket. The older women had gorgeous golden nasal piercings that shined like ornaments. I begin to understand that while most of the villagers come from poor farming backgrounds, they carry with them an immense pride in their culture.
Clinic Day 1 – Dhobi
We head back to Manthali as the golden hour turns to dark. The ride back is uneventful, except that the path is obstructed with rocks at one point and it’s now up to us to clear them. We make progress towards our hotel, and I sit next to Shanta. I am feeling proud of my day- I’ve seen 15 or so patients and have done my very best! At the same time, she has translated for the villagers in a way that enables them to receive care.
She begins to confide with me, about her journey with a seizure disorder and how it has impacted her life. We share our experiences with anxiety – about how it has affected my ability to trust myself and about how it has affected her ability to venture out. Sharing these vulnerabilities, next to her, I realize how open I’ve become in my travels thus far. It feels good to share and connect and something in me wants to open.
The next day, we board the bus and travel to Laligras community hospital, due north of Manthali. As we set clinic up, I see the preparations that some of the other providers have made for this trip. I see bags of surgical supplies and otoscopes. I begin to compare myself, and feel ill equip and frustrated. Clinic begins and the sun beats down on the entire team. With a hospital setting, there are X-ray and basic lab test capabilities but today is a struggle. While again most of my diagnosis involve arthritis and GERD, I catch a 9 year old with new onset knee pain. His blood work comes back positive for rheumatic fever ASO and we start him on penicillin. I find another woman with pain in her small joints- blood results reveal rheumatoid arthritis and we begin steroids.
That night, we tour Dr. Sumans medical center in Manthali. A place that brought medical care to the surrounding area. He again reiterates multi-day treks into villages, where he would carry medical supplies for patients. With pride, he showed us the new eye center under construction where patients would come for their cataract surgeries from surrounding villages. Medical care is affordable and targeted to provide the maximum value to the local communities.
Afterwards, we are blessed with music from Dr. Sumans son- Shawshank who plays guitar songs on demand from Beatles, to Oasis, to Nepali classics- Resham! As we sing and celebrate, our 3 guides show off their dance skills and we all get up to join! It’s a fun night of celebration and im feeling the love!
Clinic day 2 and a sunset selfie
The week reaches its mid point, we head to the rural village where Dr. Sumans grew up; Saghutar. The road is narrow unprotected switchbacks and ridgeline. We visit a hillside shiva temple where we honor Aurelia’s recent loss of her daughter. A GFR alumni whom was supposed to join the trip had she not passed away at the young age of 35, just a month prior. I am speechless and something clicks; I am here because she is not. I am a last minute addition to the team, who was invited a month prior. I feel grateful, guilty, honored, sad. Im standing in a special place; I’m stepping into my own power, my own love and gratitude. And all in relation to a loss.
From the temple, we walk across the hanging bridge that connects the hillsides. The long and loosely suspended bridge is a beautiful symbol of life. I sit with the idea of birth, death, rebirth. A bridge that represents transcending fear. A bridge that represents stepping into our own power. Letting the past go and taking an unprotected leap of faith. A place of surrender to life- to the best possible outcomes.
The Shiva Temple, Hanging Bridge and beautiful landscapes en route to Saghutar
We arrived to the clinic and found it to be fairly well equipt. We set tables in the shade and got to work. I rembember taking my time and going intentionally slow, with purpose. I saw patients with severe arthritis, COPD, hypertension. I counciled smokers from a place of love for their beautiful community and simple life. Their wisdom and joy was becoming evident. I wanted them to live longer and healthier but not at the cost of complicating their lives. The brunt of the patients were for the dental team and midwive team (who managed the GYN issues). This allowed me the grace to sit in with the dentists and assist while they preformed tooth extractions by the dozen. The bus ride back to Manthali was thankfully as uneventful as the remainder of the night.
The next morning we awoke early for a long trip to the Janakpur community. These were among the worst roads of the trip and I remember not feeling well- largely due to eating too much dal bhat the night prior. We came to a rural farming community where the closest pharmacy was a 5 hour walk away and there was no medical care. We set up in the school courtyard with a panoramic view of the surrounding mountains and were greeted with gorgeous ceremonial hand knit scarves. I began to feel better as the day flowed. My translator and I, saw villagers with back pain, knee pain, GERD… Something in the air here caused ear wax to build up and people were complaining of hearing loss. I did my first cerumen removal, and then proceeded to do several more. It was most satisfying when they would report better hearing immediately, but this wasn’t always the case.
Janakpur community and golden hour
The day wrapped up as the sun tucked over the hills. This creating gorgeous photo ops while the dental team finished. We played with kids who were staying late in the school yard and relaxed before heading to the bus. The roads felt even more dangerous in the dark, and for whatever reason, mortality hit me all at once. As I sat next to Shanta, she realized my discomfort on display and began coaching me to slow down and deepen my breath. We synchronized our breathing and locked eyes. something in me felt like this wouldn’t be such a bad way to die.
Terrible roads, beautiful landscapes
The long ride continued as we shared my Spotify playlist and without intending, the feeling went from connection to distant. My playful teasing struck a chord. I felt confused because i didn’t know where the line was crossed. As we exited the bus that night, I pulled her aside and express my perspective. My feeling of openness, the lack of concern for the future and the connection I felt to her. And at the same time, I understood her reservation and certainty that investing emotions into me could only lead to pain. I felt resigned, that space would be most respectful option.
Day 6 of medical mission work begins. Our final day of clinic. We have breakfast, pack onto the bus and head off for a beautiful Himalayan viewpoint before heading to our final clinic day.
On the bus and inspite of our dialogue the night prior, I sit next to Shanta. She tells me abit about her family. How they live together at home. What’s hers, is her families and vice versa. I look around at the beautiful landscapes of the hills, which I have been admiring the entire trip. I realize that this is a culture that takes care of what’s important. They do not turn their back on family and have immense pride in their homes. They take care of eachother and that creates impenetrable family.
I understand Shanta’s reservation. The home that I have left is so different. The self serving culture of the United States. We are pushed out at 18 and expected to individuate. To contribute to our society and provide for ourselves. I realize, that never once, have I sent home a paycheck to my family and rarely do I consider what is the best for my family prior to making decisions. Again, I’m tearing thinking about my parents and sense of loneliness they must feel in my absence. What is the purpose of striving to be more. It has taken me so far from family. We pass a mustard field and I reflect on the biblical parable of “faith the size of a mustard seed” Mt.17:20. Perhaps faith is about trusting that things will work out, even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
Himalayan view point en route to clinic
We arrive for the final clinic day at Kurhot hospital. Another warm scarf greeting as we set up our tables and chair and prepare. My translator is Dr. Shankar- a medical officer who is responsible for most of the patients at the clinic. We cruise through patients with complains of back pain, shoulder pain, epigastric pain. The villagers are well taken care of and the follow up plan is excellent. We see 25 to 30 patients over the course of 5 hours and drain the pharmacy of most medications. In celebration of the final clinic day, we are served instant coffee and given red dhotis. After more photos with people that I’ve nevermeet, it’s back to the bus for a final night at the “Kwality resort”.
Final clinic day at Kurhot
I’ve never seen so many patients in a day and I’m exhausted. As we arrive, I create some space to be alone and reflect. Im feeling so powerful. I just completed my first medical mission. I’ve given my best, and learned so much from the people. I’ve got feeling for a someone and want things to continue despite the trip concluding.
We are served an Indian/ Nepali buffet of food and gather around the fire. I want nothing more than to rest, and retire to the room early, so I do. After what feels like a restless and sleepless night, the alarm goes off it’s time to get up and board the bus to Kathmandu. I feel anxious because it’s over but my feelings remain. I think if I can express myself articulately, I can change things, but I’m too tired for that and I fall asleep. As the bus bumps on, I feel waves of sadness that could be confused with happiness. It has been a long time since I’ve let my guard down and im grateful to be open, raw, vulnerable. We pass through the familiar makeshift riverbed and return to bumpy asphalt.
The bus pulls over on the side of a busy highway so Shanta could get off. As she collects her things I think i see a tear. We have a tentative plan to meet for church in the morning.
We arrive back to the moonlight hotel for rest and final dinner with the GFR team on the rooftop overlooking Thamel district. Surrounded by our guides, laughter and shared memories, the medical mission finds its natural close. Before I leave Nepal, I will step in the mountains for a guided treck to Marti Himel basecamp. Seeking reflection in the mountains and internalizing the lessons of the mission trip.
Seven days of familiarity, safety, glory. Seven days of meeting new friends, yoga classes, western cafes and organic markets, drinking green juices and cappuccinos overlooking the turquoise blue Ganges.
Rishikesh felt like a western utopia suspended within the confines of the ancient Hindu culture. A place where people seek reinvention. People arrive from all over for yoga teacher training at the source. It felt like a bubble of Western idealism.
Gorgeous Ma Ganga
I won’t forget my initial walks through Tapovan and Laxman Jhula. I was Guided by an abundance of flyers for yoga classes, breathwork sessions, sound-bath healing, ecstatic dances; all targeting tourist like me. I got into a familiar rhythm, running most mornings along the river path and over the 3 bridges. I practiced yoga most mornings at Om Shanti Om with Yogi Dinesh. I felt like I could finally breath as I returned to a routine. With the abundance of activities, I began to forget where I was; and that I was solo traveling. If not for an upcoming medical mission to Nepal, I could have easily stayed a while longer, enjoying all the comforts.
Beautiful street art, endless possibilities
I shared a similar Itinerary as my friend Aleksandra, whom I had met in Varanasi. Together we hiked to a hidden waterfall, enjoyed the view at Bhootnath Shiva temple, rode a “Scooty” to a riverside cave (where it is said that Jesus was found meditating during his “lost years”). We spent Thanksgiving Day together. I felt pulled between companionship and a desire to have my own adventure. I realized, there is nowhere to go and that I was choosing this path. I was choosing discontent by wanting things to be different, instead of owning my experience. There is more to unpack here. Ultimately, when we said goodbye, I was grateful for companionship on the road.
Golden hour temple explorations
This was a period of restlessness for me. I couldn’t get myself to relax and slow down. Something about wanting a daily itinerary to keep me anchored into a do-ing mindset. I kept searching for a better homestay that might allow me to truly relax. In truth, this cost me days of distraction. It was not the external environment that was driving the discomfort; it was my internal state.
I met a Jared, Sven and Aryan. We watched a powerful sunrise over the foothills of the Himalayas on Thanksgiving morning. Jared woke me up to life with his story of loss, resilience and strength. “Every sunrise is a gift” he told me. His plans to through hike the entire South Island of New Zealand are brave and magnetic. I was pulled by his energy.
Sunrise at Kunjapuri Devi Temple
In Rishikesh, the tourism consumer culture was more than ever. Everywhere I looked, there was another event targeted at spiritual seekers with disposable income. I wanted to find an outlet for service, but simply wasn’t able to. I eventually surrendered to simply receiving lessons that were freely available. The main one being, observing the way that I was distracting myself. Focusing on my internal state of being. After taking a nature hike with a small group, I reflected on my initial desire for this career break. To ground. To lean in. To grow in self empowerment. To embrace my true identity.
Sunrise & sunset
One major takeaway was understanding my relationship with nature. More than anywhere I had been in India, the nature was alive with hillsides streams rushing into rivers. I realized that this was my temple. This is the God that I want to worship. He shows me the truth and reflects back to me every lesson of the world. Just like the river flows to the ocean, we flow to the source. There is no reason to fear life.. It’s a beautiful gift to be alive. To take it slow. To reconnect.
Varanasi can’t be seen, it can only be felt. To experience the city in all of its beautiful chaos is to be assaulted by all 6 senses – sight, hearing, smell, taste, feel and of course the Hindu 6th sense – the mind. Every night I spent in the city, I went to bed wondering if what I had experienced was real, or if it was only a dream and will I wake up from this upon rising?
I flew in from Chennai, famished and I shared a meal on the way in from the airport with my uber driver. We stopped at a road side “hotel” for paneer and chapati in tomato sauce (one of the best meals of my stay). He dropped me off on the side of the old city street, instructing me that, the guest house was down the alley way and inaccessible to car. Being asked to get out of the car, half a kilometer from the guesthouse, down a dark alleyway, in a new city, at 11pm at night, didn’t sit right, but there was no other feasible option.
As I walked down the maze of alleyways and trying my best to pretend I that all was okay. I narrowly avoid a cow marching forward through the filthy alley. Next, a pack of stray dogs begins barking defensively, as I approach the corner I can see that they are defending a litter. After scaring them off with the only thing I have accessible – a yoga mat, I finally make it to my alley hotel at the Rajasthan Inn. I am shaking in disbelief of where I am. Sidhartha brings me to the 3rd floor room, where the walls are covered with graffiti. The only furniture is two twin beds pushed together on the hard marble floor. The bathroom is down the hall. This is my first day of “solo” travel.
I wake up in disbelief of where I am, but I’ve hired a tour guide for the morning and its time to mobilize. I take to the river walk, where I make my way to meet my guide at Assi ghat. Rituals are being practiced by groups of priests on the various gnats which lead down into the Ganges river. These ancient steps artfully represent a journey the soul must take from birth to liberation. Men are bathing themselves in the turbid, brown water of the Ganges, (an act prioritizing devotion over health) in order to purify themselves and wash away bad karma. Another moment of disbelief. I find, Hamanshu; I am famished and scattered. Again shaking, I ask if we can stop for food and he takes me for Subji and Puri – an amazing, savory potato curry with crispy, fried flour rounds to match. It is amazing to instantly feel my anxieties quell. Next is Dada chai for the smooth and creamiest chai tea I have had to date. Now I am ready to see this city!
I come to understand that this is believed to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, dating back before 1st century BCE. The architecture is completely different with every ghat we pass. Ranging from Arabian domes, to spiring towers with geometric patterns. It is a walk unlike any other. We walk by Manikarnika gnat, where I see a car sized pile of wood, burning on the river bank; as I look closer, I see two human feet appearing from the blaze. This is a holy city and on these banks, cremation of the deceased will lead to Moksha or spiritual liberation from birth and death. Something so powerful you can’t look away. It pulls your attention from the world, and a sudden realization occurs; this life is finite, a gift, and sooner or later, we all will be burned in the fires or buried in the ground.
1. The nighttime alleyways. 2. Rajasthan Inn. 3. People “cleansing” themselves in the river. 4. Arabian architecture on the gnats.
We continue our walk past the Kashi Vishwanath temple and visit the Nepali temple. Here, the shiva lingum is housed in a wooden Nepali style temple. The city continues to surprise.
On my walk back to the guest house, I reflect. I am in the city of Shiva. The fire of consciousness is all around me, and my ego is struggling. The ancient alleyways, are more friendly in the daytime with homestays and shops sell silks, snacks, mala beads, chai, and travel agents. The cobblestones are still a field of landmines, with everything from cow to human shit. Nothing is okay, but everything is okay. This is a different version of life than the one I have had for the past 34 years. I meet a Croatian woman who has renounced everything to realize universal consciousness. It’s a reminder that with the path to true self realization is in surrender.
Day 2 in the city of Kashi, Hamanshu picks me up and we head to the ghat for a sunrise boat ride. Through the smoggy sky, the orange sun reflects over the Ganga. The city comes awake and architecture is beautiful. He takes me to Benares university – the largest university in Asia. Then to the Kaal Bhairva temple, the dark faced avatar of shiva, who protects Varanasi from I don’t know who, and I don’t want it to be me. It is only with his blessing that the city is safe. In the temple, there is frantic devotion as an sea of people compete for entry to the central sanctum that houses Bhairvas silver-faced idol. I give my garland offering and move to the exit. Finishing the morning with lassi, this has been fast and intense. I feel raw and ready to leave but something tells me that there is still more to see.
I want to see the famous Aarti, so I invite my new Russian Friend Aleksandra to Assi ghat to watch the fire ritual with me. The flames burn and shiva is invoked with symbolism at every level. It’s coordinated, sad, beautiful, and auspicious. On the walk back, the burning ghat is ablaze again and the fires pull me in like a tractor beam. I want to walk away but this unlike anything. Dark smoke alongside families of the deceased with multi-faced grief ranging from solemn to frantic. Its visceral and somewhere in this moment, I begin to feel numb. I should leave, this is not for me and after minutes of emotionless observation, I get up. We continue to walk, and another Shiva temple calls us inside with more mystery. “Sitaram, Sitaram” can be heard echoing from the mouth of a singing Sadu. Its resigned, honest, loving, full of surrender.
1. Sunrise over the Ganges. 2. Boat tour with Hamanshu. 3. Varanasi breakfast (Subji & Puri). 4. Arati with Aleksandra
I found the city difficult to be in and easy to miss. When it came time to pack, I decided that I needed another few days; I had not experienced enough to know. I did leave the old city after 3 night, and sought solace in the nearby town of Sarnath. This is a quiet suburb known for the UNESCO world heritage where the Buddha is believed to have given his first teaching after his enlightenment at Bohd Gaya. Here, I stayed Mohit’s Guest House and met fellow travelers, Pascal and Julian.
1. A cow in the narrow alley. 2. Temple at Sarnath
On my final night in the city, I met Hamishu for dinner at his family’s home. It was tucked deep inside a narrow lane off a street overflowing with life and chaos. His mother cooked a traditional Indian meal and I felt an undertone of solemnity. He told me he learned English in high school. His only real window to connect with travelers like me, to hear stories from a world he’s never seen. And as he shared his life with sincerity, the contrast between our realities landed.
I realized how unbelievably lucky I am. Lucky to have grown up in a place with social and financial mobility. Lucky to have had private education. Lucky to spend my life in nature, to play sports, to run freely, to breathe clean air. Lucky that I can walk away from work and explore the world on my own terms. Lucky that I even have the desire to pursue spirituality, reflection, and adventure, because desire itself is a privilege.
It hit me so hard I felt tears in my eyes. All that I’ve experienced here in just four days; intensity, beauty, discomfort, humanity. I get to leave. I get continue a life filled with choices. That awareness makes me feel like I owe something to the world. Maybe not in a grand, heroic way, but in a true way. I feel a commitment to live with integrity, to serve where I can and to stay awake.
Varanasi didn’t just show me life and death. It showed me myself through a different mirror. I’m leaving with a heart that feels cracked open, humbled, and grateful.
Getting started in life is always the hardest part. I am not sure I could have taken the leap, dropped everything and flown to the other side of the planet, had it not been a group to start my travels with. Over the past two weeks, I am grateful for the opportunity to travel with 15 amazing souls through the heart of Southern India. I didn’t have a clue what a Yatra was before I left San Diego, and now I can hardly find words for how transformative the experience has been.
We covered a thousand of kilometers via narrow, pothole (and cow) laden streets and spent our days in quiet ashrams. Starting in Kochi on 11/3 and ending in Tiruvannamalai, it feels surreal to finally come up for air from such a powerful experiance. It’s has been grounding, but busy with frequent travel days, learning new practices and living amongst the India culture of devotion and spirituality. As I start a new chapter within my travel sabbatical, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the journey thus far!
I’ll briefly summarize the destinations on the journey thus far. Each place carried its own energy and vibration, reflecting the freedom and diversity that is available in spiritual worship.
Purna Vidya Ashram – Coimbatore, India
A quiet and secluded ashram experience to begin the trip. It was here I began to understand that I didn’t know, what I didn’t know. I understood quickly that was not in control of the experience and surrender or resistance were my only available options. There were lots of beautiful and devotional rituals like Homa; – a sacred and Vedic fire ritual of offerings to the fire, in order to purify the path forward. This honestly scared me.
Ampritam Ashram – Amritapuri, India
A city like ashram on the ocean. Led by Amma; Guru, Devi and Universal Mother. She spreads love through her darshan of hugging; and she has hugged hundreds of millions to date. It was spiritually charged environment with lots “Cali energy”; the embodiment the dark feminine and destroyer of illusions/ false beliefs. I have to go back to claim my hug since she was in Germany.
We practiced Kirtan on the water and I found a new love for Karma Yoga; the path for selfless action. During my practice of cleaning the cow stable, I tried to preforming duties with full love and dedication as if preforming for God without any attachment to the results.
Shivananda Yoga Vedanta Ashram – Kerala, India
Finally, an ashram that resonated with me. A peaceful oasis with an academic stricture. They teach based on the mantra, “serve, love, give, purify, meditate and realize” as an approach to spiritual growth. I fell in love with the yoga here which involved breath work, sun salutations and deep asana practices. I felt like I was drinking from the river of Vedic knowledge as every day was packed with lectures and satsongs focused on awakening to the true self.
Aranchula – Tiruvalmalai, India
The sacred mountain, regaured as Lord Shiva. The manifestation of human consciousness. The beginning and the end of time. The creator and destroyer. The ocean that contains life. It is a place of spiritual realization and the teachings are direct, but not easy. The energy brings you out of your mind and into your body. The devotion is unlike anything I have ever seen.
The mountain is the teacher, and Ramona Maharishi’s ashram sits at the foot of the mountain. His teaching was the magic in the silence; wake up to the language of the universe. Contemplate on the question – “Who am I?”. Your true self is the closest thing that could ever exist. You cannot become your true self, you can only realize it.
“You can reflect on the past or future. You can contemplate on what you have heard just now. It is futile to recollect and ruminate over previous experiance. It is our imagination and guessing that prevails. Hence understanding that the most valuable learning happens in the present moment. This is what is happening right now. Listen to this and contemplate on this. Even this will become past. Discard it. There is no need to contemplate it once again.”
Sri Sadguru – A conversation in Silence
Learning from the silence and feeling the energy of this sacred mountain was a reminder. I am exactly where I need to be. Things don’t have to make intellectual sense; that’s a tool that my ego loves. There are so many false beliefs that I have adopted over the years. Let’s name a few- I am a bad singer, there is only one path to God, safety can only exist outside of myself… Giving these up for a trust that the universe will provide the best possible outcome has been a lesson I continue to sit with. The practices, I have learned in the ashram journey are my tool kit and the people I’ve traveled with have become family.
In Vedanta philosophy, they teach that the duality separating us from one another is an illusion. Despite how diverse the world appears, every soul is not separate. We are no more divided from the divine that created us than we are from our own hand. There is a oneness that holds everything together. That’s a worldview that excites me! If everyone you meet is a version of yourself, then there is no “other”. There’s no need to stress. Do your best. Follow what pulls you, and allow life to unfold. It can feel like a grind, or it can feel like a beautiful, auspicious unfolding—either way, you’re the one who decides.
I am going to miss this beautiful and open hearted crew!!! Thanks for walking the first stretch with me. There is more to come!
Two and a half months ago, my mentor relayed that he was moving on in his career and relocating. At that moment, I could have fallen to my knees with gratitude. This was the moment that I needed. The time had arrived for me to fulfill my dream of long term travel.
The runway to this trip has been gradual, and then steep. It took courage to walk away from a sure bet. I now understand why it’s so difficult to deconstruct everything in life. It’s breaks down the identity and the fabric of who I am. This is the start of a new chapter. One in which I face my fears and move forward with gratitude. I am thankful for the experiences at UCSD and in San Diego. I am ready to take the leap and travel the world starting in India!
Addendum: This was initially written 10/28/25 – I publish this from my hotel room in Chennai, India after completing a 2 week Yatra.
Taking the Leap 