high

i lived in the himalayas. meditating with tibetan lamas in ladakh. part of my job was to tidy the temple and maintain stinking oil-burning lamps. even the hindus would come and ask for lamps to be lit for buddha. one day i was blinded after meditation. two hours of sitting to lift my gaze to a vision of margot tenenbaum. personification of sarcasm. the wind chimes were made from soda bottles left by travellers, they screwed with the silence of the place, whilst lizards ate one another beneath the prayer flags. of all the things i've learned in life, it was here that water preservation, good tea and self forgiveness really occurred for the first time. one night before i arrived in the mountains, when back in england i had a dream of a buddha statue with a broken nose, hidden in the shadow of the monastery. six weeks later when i arrived i saw that statue for real, collapsing, forgotten, into an irrigation ditch. jung would call it synchronicity.