#GoldenTemple #Amritsar #India: The city bustled. Dust, flying insects, and the sounds of horns — from every persuasion — swirled around my head. The sun had gone to bed and a 2-3 story white wall stood before me. I was guided to an area to stow my shoes, I washed my feet, and a cover was given to me for my hair. I ascended the steps to a pass, through an archway in the wall. As I floated down into the main courtyard of the complex, the city drifted away. It’s like it vanished behind me. Gold danced and flickered on the water. Drums and sitar wafted around my body, encircling me with, what I can only describe as, peaceful melodies and sonic flows. The temple rose from the large human-made pool of water that framed the footprint of the courtyard. I glowed in the light, The Golden Temple of Amritsar in Punjab. To be clear, it’s allegedly plated with real gold. It was really awe inspiring. I would normally feel like this was a gaudy display of opulence...it’s really not though. I immediately connected with the spirituality of this place. It made clear sense why so many make the pilgrimage here. Everyone pleasantly welcomed me, helped me to understand what I was seeing. Everything was free — free lodging if I wanted it. Free food (~60,000 people a day). It was all done with intention and benevolence. It was authentically beautiful...peace and wonder that was palpable. I could extol the virtues of this place much more than I have, but I will just offer that you should find yourself here. Experience it yourself...The impact of this holy temple stayed me...for life. It as another good day... . . What drives your spirituality? Are there places that connect you with your faith? Do you need faith to experience spirituality? . . #photographylover #photographylife #photographyworld #photographyaddict #picturesque #naturepic #naturepictures #naturalbeauty #adventurer #limitless #ryanmitchelllives #Sikh
Sangla to Reckong Peo: When I hear people speak of how developed the West is, how far we’ve progressed, how much we’ve accomplished, I have a tendency, as a person born in the West, to agree. Sometimes, the acceptance of this as fact puts me in a position of contrasting our progress against others. It feels like an establishment of superiority — something the west has also done quite well at...feeling superior. If WE’VE done something great, it must mean that OTHERS weren’t able to do something as well. I’m struck by this as a look back to the roads that were carved out of the largest mountain range on earth. By hand, by machine, by sheer force, labor, and ingenuity, literal blood, sweat, tears, and in many cases death, men and women created ways for us to travel through some of the harshest environments the planet has to offer. To this day, there are still people knelt on the side of the road breaking rocks with mauls. Where did they come from and how did they get here? Where do they sleep? I know that many South Indians and Nepalese get drafted into this kind of work — the means of how they were coerced surely range in severity. The tragic stories that these roads can tell, the hardship that the labor force that built them endured, are unimaginable. The sheer engineering of it, however, is still, I must say, unreal. The fact that I was given the opportunity to trek through these massive geologic structures, edge of the tire flush with the cliff face, is unreal. These are some of the most dangerous roads in the world. These are some of the most beautiful landscapes on Earth. I came back alive, that is good. I prayed to Hanuman along with my driver as we switched back through the Sierra. I’m not Hindu, but I’m glad that the monkey God looked after us ☺️It was a good day...
Kinner Camps, Sangla: We travelled for a couple of days out of the heat and wet dust of New Delhi, through Chandigarh, and into the foothills of the Himalayas. The roads narrowed, the cliffs grew steeper, the margin of error became more slim. The tension and excitement was palpable. These roads are graves. These roads are magnificent. The mountains rise and rise. This leg of our journey passed through a huge (and controversial) dam project and ended at Kinner Camps. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve stayed. Indian tapestries hung from the ceilings of the tents, the clear skies framed the Himalayan moon in ways that I’ve never known Earth’s sibling to look. We fell asleep under the stars, la Luna illuminating the skyscape with a deep blue hue. The sounds of a large river below roared me to sleep. It was a good day...
Tabo Monastary: In the early morning, the dry air crisp on my skin, I walked in between the structures of this ancient place. Under the eyes of the Himalayan Mountains, dry and sun-baked, a maroon figure moved amongst the beige buildings. With flashes of green life abutting the walkway, his thoughtful stroll stood as a stark contrast to the harshness and monotone aesthetic of the surrounding geologic fortress that is the Himalayas. This monastery is over 1000 years old with a horizontal mandala inside the main temple and years of religious iconography painted over over each other, chipping away in places, a deeper past peaking through from under each flake. As the late afternoon cast upon us, we learned to play cricket cricket, losing the occasional ball as it cascaded off the cliff the marked the edge of our field. The younger monks played with us, using their robes to stop the ball — not a legal move, but again, I was just learning the game so who knows 😉 Their soccer skills, played in sandals, was far superior to my altitude drained lungs and heavy hiking boots. It was a good day...
New Delhi: Anyone who has travelled through the thickly clogged streets of Delhi knows how hard it can be to take in all the information being thrown at you. For me, India embodied this concept in many ways. It was full of color, life, smells, spices, garbage, tragedy, beauty, tastes, smiles, pollution, music, “Punjabi Song,” horns...all of it. I loved it. On occasion, in the midst of this chaos, this cacophony of experience, you get jolted from seat of your humanity, the world slows for a bit, the background blurs, the foreground dials into hyper-focus. This beautiful child, cars roaring around her, stood with her brother in the street. A beggar, a forgotten human. Her brother smiled, waving feverishly to me in the car. I stayed behind the protection of my window. There was no threat to my safety. I left the window up, something I look at as almost cowardly now, to buffer myself from this reality. In her arms, you can see, if you look closely, the crumpled mass of a tired infant. Tired because it was nap time or tired because they were beyond hungry, I don’t know. I know that as a paramedic, I have taken comfort in a screaming and crying baby. It sounds weird, but that’s a baby that I know can breath for they are crying, that can move for they are flailing their limbs, that they are awake for they have the power to belt out a wail. It is when they don’t move that I worry. That baby laid there, soundly, amongst the overbearing buzz of the traffic, the young girl’s eyes piercing deep into mine. She was truly beautiful. She was never forgotten, but I feel as though there was nothing I could do. The moment was brief and our vehicle pulled away. Or maybe, it was just the case that I did nothing. My humanity was challenged that day. It was challenged throughout my travels in India. I am better for it. I am one of the lucky ones. It was a good day...for me. . . .
Agra Fort: Lovers sit on the sill, a vignette of thick Indian air surrounding them. There’s an irony to their carefree, playful existence. Not far from where they sit, a locked room held the deposed Shah Jahan — the same Shah that commissioned the Taj Mahal to be built as a mausoleum for the love of his life, Mumtaz Mahal. His beautiful little room, his cell, must have been torture as it held a perfect view of the Taj Mahal...a place he never was able to visit as it had not been finished prior to his imprisonment. Many lovers have looked longingly from these windows, past and present. I’m privileged to have seen it as a free man. It was a good day...
Leaving Nako, heading north - Himachal Pradesh: We move onward, into the new, revel in the experience. We had gone so far, through prehistoric river beds, sediment striations in the mountain sides at full vertical for 10’s of thousands of feet. For all this, for feeling so exposed, I’m aware that I’m not alone. People live here. Children are taught to read in schoolhouses among these mountains. The literacy rate is above 75% in this state. These mountains hold a large part of Earth’s story. I’ve come this far only to find myself among others who have travelled this path long before I. You are not alone. In what ways do you find yourself exposed? What strength can you draw from the experience? We are time travelers you and I. It was another good day...
#Sherabling#Monastery , #Bir#HimachalPradesh : We drove through fog and green overgrowth. Trees created a dense view, pillars cutting through the mist. The roads snaked through the #Himalayan foothills, rolling and rising into the thinning air. The Monastery looked down on us as we approached. It stood like a mount on high. Burgundies and yellows, whites and wood carvings. The sound of drums ricocheted through the inner courtyard, a primal awareness arose within me. Conch shell trumpets and dungchens (Tibetan trumpets) burst through the air, rippling into my core. I love sound. I love music. I’ve always had an affection for Tibetan instruments. They call to me. There feels like a deep awakening when I hear the sound. As we exited through a shower of monastic chants, I stood at the top of a step that overlooked the sanctum. Burgundy robes crisscrosses the floors, folding white scarves (called khata’s) that brightly contrasted earth tones and gold. So much dedication. So much orchestrations and movement in concert. Their voices blended with the chants and drums and trumpets and...a cacophony of symphonic proportions. It was another good day... . . What elements travel through you? Evoke emotion and pause? How do you allow yourself to be a stone in the river, the present flowing around you as you exist? What awakens the primal within you...in what ways do you seek more of it? . . #photographylover, #photographylife, #photographyworld, #photographyaddict, #picturesque, #naturepic, #naturepictures, #naturalbeauty, #adventurer, #limitless#ryanmitchelllives
