Physical Mountain, Spiritual Mountain

During our vacation in Ladakh, I was blown away by the Himalayas. It is not just their height that was so impressive, it was also the fact that they are seemingly endless. And to think I was just seeing a tiny part of the range when the Himalayas stretch for thousands of kilometers.

 

I was awestruck by the physical mountains, their height, their ruggedness, their snow-capped beauty, and the visibility of the power of the erosive forces – first, along the slopes where the snow had melted and flown down year after year for millennia and carved paths through those hard rocks; and second, at the foot of the mountain, where the water accumulated and form a river that then cuts across rocks as it flows onward. One truly understands that phrase to convey difficulty, “a mountain to climb”, only against a backdrop like this.

 

For some reason, though I am neither religious nor spiritual, all this reminded me of a passage from Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. After we came back, I googled the passage and sure enough, it is a popular one.

“Mountains like these and travellers in the mountains and events that happen to them here are found not only in Zen literature but in the tales of every major religion. This allegory of a physical mountain for the spiritual one that stands between each soul and its goal is an easy and natural one to make.”

I could now understand that feeling he was describing.

“Like those in the valley behind us, most people stand in sight of the spiritual mountains all their lives and never enter them, being content to listen to others who have been there and thus avoid the hardships. Some travel into the mountains accompanied by experienced guides who know the best and least dangerous routes by which they arrive at their destination.”

Avoid the hardships – that describes us perfectly. We were in a comfortable Toyota Innova; with an experienced guide cum driver.

“Still others, inexperienced and untrusting, attempt to make their own routes. Few of these are successful, but occasionally some, by sheer will and luck and grace, do make it.”

That probably applies to all those bikers who we saw throughout our trip. Except that in this case, most succeed, while a few had to abandon the bikes when caught on the high passes with snow falling, and the roads getting dangerously slippery.

“Once there they become more aware than any of the others that there's no single or fixed number of routes. There are as many routes as there are individual souls.”

While I understand that thought, I did not get to experience it. Perhaps some of the bikers may have. Bikers in Ladakh – Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – that book just took on a whole new perspective…