Full Moon, August 2018 at Mount Kailash. We have finished the Kora (three days circumambulation of Kailash) and return to Lake Manasarovar (4590m / 15,060ft), where we are going to stay the coming night. It is early afternoon and I feel infinitely blessed to be able to spend more time in the powerspot which not only brought me to my knees a few days back but above all, deeply touched my heart. The lake felt like my gateway to my soul family and cosmic source. There was an instant recognition and a re-memberance that was positively earth-shattering. And it nourished each and every fibre of my beingness with unconditional love.
Upon arrival in the guesthouse, I know what to do: drop the luggage and walk to the lake. Finally, I have more time here.
Reaching the shore, I feel a pinch in my heart though. This is very different to my first visit three days ago on the other side of the sea. So many people here. They walk alone or in small groups, busily talking as if planning or managing something important. Big buses come and go, loudspeakers are blurting, garbage is scattered around. I quickly understand that most of what is happening here is part of an Indian guru’s camp, with more than hundred participants and their main base in a guesthouse complex only 50m away from the water. A sad sight.
Ok, where can I move to escape this buzz? I turn, keep walking and find the solitude I was looking for. I touch the water, sprinkle some on my face and head, and also give my malas a bath. Beautiful coolness. The air is marvellously pure, and the sunlight feels diamond-like crisp. Love it. Can I stay forever?
After some time, I head back towards our group quarter, knowing that a trip to the neighbouring Rakshastal Lake is planned. I‘m not really interested but take the opportunity to check Manasarovar‘s surroundings. I remember that different people on different occasions warned me not to touch Rakshastal‘s water, not under any circumstances. The name of the lake literally means „lake of the demon“ in Sanskrit. It is also known as Ravana Tal, as it is considered to be the place of severe penance by Ravana, the demon-like egoistic King of Lanka in Hindu theology.
Our mini bus stops on the roadside next to the banks of the lake. I step outside and begin to walk but suddenly get hit and stopped by a brisky gust of wind. I feel as if pushed back. Then I notice no life around this lake. No grassland, no animals. I take a couple of steps and get another push back. Ok, I get it. I return. Standing near the bus I observe who moves closest to the water. Natalia does not feel like exploring the terrain either and remains next to me, watching the others. Our guide told us not to spend much time at this lake, but it seems nobody was listening. Eventually people come back, and we depart.
I can’t wait to be back at Manasarovar. In the afternoon I find a secluded spot with great views across the lake. The sunset casts warm golden light on the shores around.
I sit in silence, just watching and sensing the landscape. At some point the herbs around me call for attention. One type has tiny precious red flowers and an intoxicatingly delicious aroma. The smell is nothing I have come across before, yet I know it, and love it. Like a combination of rose, rosemary, lavender and thyme.
Sitting by the lake until the sun is almost down completely. Returning to the guesthouse to quickly have some food.
Back at the banks at moonrise. Unfortunately, my attempts to capture the bright full moon with my camera fail. Images are blurred or slurred. Manasarovar‘s moon remains elusive.
Just sitting there, in silence til after midnight. Is this place the end of the world, the beginning of the world, or an interdimensional gateway to whichever space might match our soul signature and vibrational capacity?
I perceive the rich stillness as previously. It expands my beingness, energises every cell and finetunes my consciousness antennae. Yet grounds me without uncertainty. No zooming out of the body and zapping into delusional fluff and fake phenomena on the astral realm. No, this is different and beyond escapist fantasies. Genuine, mature, profound, exquisite and sacred. It’s pure isness. Everything, and nothing.
And in a way, there is no more to say. Just look at those pictures. I took them the next morning from the neighbouring mountain at the lovely Chiu Monastery. Pure platinum bliss. Out of this world.