Nepal has created a sense of contemplation within myself and around myself. I contemplate on what I have done and what I have seen. I see people loose themselves in a cloud of thought as they gaze out at Mansawar Road from their cafes; I’m not sure if they are contemplating or dreaming – living or sleeping.
As June sped by and the end of July approaches I realize that August is right around the corner. August is a special month for my family: it marks the life and death of a beloved son, uncle and brother. I see my uncle David in the kindness of the Nepali people. When they aren’t smiling and urging me to join in on their traditions, I see compassion and a desire to reflect. As I’ve spent time to reflect in Nepal, I see that his life was beautiful; beautiful in the most understated way.
I see now that my uncle understood the complexities of the basic spirit of humanity, the beauty in not speaking, rather reflecting. He processed information and because of this he was and is the kindest, most aware person I have ever met.
I know little of the art of being an observer. While I sit and look at how the Tibetan monks live, constantly praying – consistently moving their thumbs over the worn prayer beads, I see David.
His legacy, in my eyes, is that he lived a prayer. Noble, selfless and appreciated beyond words; his life was a prayer. Thank you Nepal and thank you David.