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A Himalayan experience is one to which most Indians aspire. It suggests the ultimate height of what we might achieve. We have had a Himalayan experience in every sense of the word. I had thought that it would be difficult to match the experience and the setting for our programmes in the south of India in Kerala. I had omitted to remember how many people make a pilgrimage to the Himalayas to restore their souls and to be reminded of the majesty of our natural world. I was reminded by a friend of mine that mountains respond to those who respect them. No-one can conquer a mountain. If we try do conquer the mountains the mountains will conquer us. The Himalayas remind us that we are mere transient beings who have the fortune to marvel at the natural beauty of our surroundings. And we were surrounded by this natural beauty in the Solang Valley where the water from the melting glaciers tumbles down to Manali and beyond over the enormous boulders that carpet the river floor. We sought to achieve our personal states of excellence and our surroundings beckoned us to new heights in how we thought and how we challenged ourselves. We went to the edge literally and metaphorically. And we discovered how we naturally function as one when we are united in discovering new awesome pathways. We were humbled by the remarkable streetwise wisdom and learning of the Kurtet the shoe shine boy who had learnt on the streets to speak Hebrew and English and French but who also knew that his appeal as a young boy was nearing its conclusion as he matured.  And we learned from Thakur our guide whose journey to school when younger would have meant a two hour walk each way and which meant that he had to forfeit any formal education but who had learned how to love the mountains and how to share that love through his guiding and through his music. I struggle to find the words to explain my experince. Maybe my Indian colleague Arul can explain it better than me -

Well, we all know how you would have laughed!
It seems as if we are still in the Himalayas. I am still surrounded by those mountains. I am amidst the mountains. What a scenic beauty! Just close your eyes and that’s it, you can be there. I am there. I am here
now in the Himalayas. I see the Logical levels of change marked out in the shape of the hillside. Do you see
the red linened women carrying the woods on their back. Just below the identity level, near that pine tree. next to that horse, white colour, below those sheep. Fabulous! isn’t it?

Fantastic times, isn’t it! The snow was lovely. When we walked bare foot to the ashram top near the shivling, wow! my feet is still chill, it is damn chill , right now. That was a first time experience for me. I haven’t experienced it
before. Lovely! isn’t it? There is a lot in that chillness in the
feet. I had a similar chillness.. the same thing when i got in to the stream, yes, for you to remember, when Brad jumped like  a horse and crossed. I still feel it. It is there. It is here now.

I drank the water from the falls near the shivling and I drank it again and again during our final trekking, especially,the gigantic falls, for you to remember, the one in which Brad dissappeared for a while. I haven’t tasted water like that. Should I say the glory of mountain water -that too - the snow cladded mountain’s water. To drink
the water from the source, amazing it is. I drank and it went through my body, my nerves and my cells. I am feeling it right now. It is here. yes. I cannot explain it, I feel the water in my chest and in my body. It has got something more than the taste. I cannot explain
it. If you call me again to the Manali, i will come again, just to taste that water again. It is still there. now . It is. I  am in Manali. now in Manali.

The trekking… It was definitely on top of the Himalayas. Of course it has to be. What a opportunity. I think i cannot go for it again. It was the dynamism of the group. Splendid, was it. The small breaks that we took then and there and the flute we heard …are so scintillating…Do you remember … that top peak.. steepy one… when
we looked up, down, around and we were so little in that world…. I am there now. Here I am. I can smell the thyme… I can see those lovely shepherd dogs….
I feel the warmth of the human chain we formed and supported each other. Amazing!
What an experience. I still have a question. Have i put all the beauties of the Himalayas in words, at least have I put my thoughts completely in words. I doubt. It is more. It is huge. It is gigantic, beyond, wordly, truly Himalayas.

One more thing, Himalayas is definitely beautiful and great! We saw it more beautifullyand greatly. I am coming to the learnings that we had.
I never thought so much can be learnt in a week’s time.  I
knew, learning doesn’t require time. It happens. It can take days or even seconds. Even then,  I never thought so much can be learnt in a week’s time.  Dear Sue, please tell me How did you do that? Awesome.
Himalayan Sue! Himalayan NLP! Each Day, each session was brilliantly knit. I realised a lot. I have answers for my questions, now. Great!

Thank you all friends for that priceless experience.
I am still surrounded by those mountains. I am amidst the
mountains. What a scenic beauty! Just close your eyes and that’s it, you can be there. I am there. I am here now in the Himalayas.

The Himalayas is with me! I am the Himalayas. I see the mountains. I smell the thyme. My foot is wet. I feel the water in my chest. I have the answers for my questions. I am on top of the Himalayas!

You see, I can’t stop writing. It is so real. I am seeing all of them.
Close your eyes and we all can see them!

Fabulous!
Isn’t it?

Love
Arul

Yesterday I was in London for a coaching session with one of my clients.  Despite that wonderful glimpse of summer this week ..  just when I thought I had some time to bask in the sunshine and sit at those tempting Paris style pavement cafes the rains came. And having just returned from running a Masterclass in the Himalayas I have otherwise avoided other parts of India at this time of the year because of the Monsoons but at least it is warm rain in India..  So lazily I grabbed a taxi . And we got stuck in traffic with no escape. The taxi driver proceeded to mutter under his breah and sighed with exasperation each time the lights that seemed to be part of the source of the hold up changed back to red. Then he cursed the driver in front who seemed to be taking his time to leisurely pull away when the lights were finally in our favour.  He muttered to himself, shoulders tense for the rest of the journey…. so it was with relief when we finally arrived at my destination.  I had allowed plenty of time to get to my destination and we did get there in time.

    Contrast this with my experience last week. Surrounded by glaciers and snow capped mountains in our venue for the Masterclass in the Himalayas we decided to celebrate our last day with a longer trek than previously with the help of a local guide - Thakur. We set off after lunch and even the early phases of this trek were beginning to take their toll. One of our group turned back disturbed by the narrow paths and the height. (We really should have done that phobia cure!). I am not fond of heights but I believed that the terrain would level out eventually and with the promise of steps to take us back down the mountain to our resort. (I really should have checked the definition of steps!!). By 4 o’clock we were on the top  of the mountain looking down not only on our resort but on the hang-gliders way down below us - which might give some indication of the height! As we reached this pinnacle with its magnificent views of the Solang Valley Thakur took out his pipe - a wooden flute and played the most magical tribute to the mountains. Whenever we reached a significant stage of our trek he did the same.. (in between he insisted on carrying me over the steepest and roughest bits of the track (well there was no track but I think he created one in his mind).  Another of our group who was keen to get down to a lower altitude looked at his watch and expressed some concern about us getting back down before dark. Thakur reassured us with total confidence that we were on time. We scrambled, ran, slithered, laughed, shouted and slid on our bottoms eventually down to the valley just as twilight set in. The timing was perfect. We stood on the metal bridge crossing the river back to the resort and held hands to celebrate what had been a stretching and exhilarating experience together… Thakur laughed knowingly and appreciatively…

Such different strategies for achieving a deadline although I suspect that Thakur does not even have that word in his vocabulary.

What is your strategy for achieving deadlines?

Sue

It was post dinner. I felt full and very relaxed and lazy.  The evening sun was streaming through the windows casting shadows across the terracotta floor. “Would you like to come down to the wood?” my husband asked. You would not believe the amount of inner noise that was generated by two opposing parts in that momnet. My inner demon tempted me with the choice of staying just where I was and drinking in these last daylight moments. But the part that knew that it had missed its chance before and was being given another, cut in dramatically and forcefully with a ’should’. And this was one occasion when ’should’ matched ‘really want’ at a very deep level. My husband might not have realised the inner equivalent of ‘War and Peace’ in that split second hesitation that preceded the “Yes”. Thank God for parts integration! Ah but what to wear … it was muddy down the field and I only had some high street boots and some skimpy flat shoes. Another chance for avoidance. “I used to have some garden boots here”. “I will find them for you.” my husband replied unusually. That was a tell tale moment. We set off carefully avoiding the newly seeded barley and grass seed with which the farmer had planted our field. The ground was uneven and it is a steep incline down to the side of the wood where Spence has cut an opening. It was years since I had been here before and it had been overgrown (to say the least) with brambles. Trees had come down in the tempest of 1999 and had blocked any natural path that might have previously existed. It was not an easy hike. Spencer let me lead the way - I wondered about this - maybe he wanted me to see it through my eyes, find my own path. Clean actions. So we came to the opening and where there had been tangles and thorns and dead wood now there was a narrow path that winded its way up and down through the mass of undergrowth and old trees. There are new trees now, encased with twigs and old branches to deter the deer from a little snack that would halt  their growth in its tracks. And there was grass and open areas where the evening sun could just peek through. There was no sight of the fields and the valley - this was an entirely enclosed private world.  We walked in deeper Spence now showing me paths that he had cut - the options of ways to proceed. I like that! And eventually we came to a clearing in a patch of sun shining its end of days rays in a golden shaft through the vivid bright green of the new leaves on the surrounding trees. And there were the bluebells. And not just the few that Spencer knew had somehow survived (after all this is not at all their natural habitat - bluebells just do not grow in this part of France!) but a few dozen and as we looked we noticed more and more small new patches of them. Not weak at all but strong and thriving. This was not a carpet of bluebells but it might just have well have been for me. These bluebells and this path in the wood represent much between Spencer and I - much that is unsaid and appropriately so. We carefully picked our way around them to see the logs that he has cut from the fallen trees and the new planting and the tree size box plant that might once have been a hedge for the old house that is now in ruins further on deeper in the yet uncleared part of the undergrowth. But it is the bluebells that I remember and no matter how dense they become - those few will be the ones that I will always remember.

Sue