“Stillness in Passing: A Moment with a Monk in Thimphu”
It was just a moment.
A curve in the road, a concrete block, and a young monk in deep red robes. The midday sun laid itself gently over Thimphu, and the weeping willows behind him moved as if breathing slowly.
There was something about the way he sat—neither waiting nor hurrying. One hand gripped a simple wooden stick, the other rested calmly. His gaze was soft, turned away slightly, as though in conversation with the trees or his own breath. The world moved past him: cars, wind, a foreigner like me. And yet, he seemed untouched.
As someone who’s been a nomad for over two decades, I often find myself between places and people. Always arriving, always leaving. That day, in the stillness of his presence, I felt the kind of rootedness I rarely touch. The kind that doesn’t cling to place or permanence, but radiates from within.
Bhutan’s Buddhist philosophy teaches that peace isn’t found by avoiding the world, but by observing it without grasping. Letting thoughts pass like clouds. This young monk didn’t preach it. He lived it—in posture, in pause.
And for just a few breaths, I let myself sit inside that silence. No destination. No story to tell. Just sunlight, red robes, and a breeze through the leaves.
Then, I moved on. But something in me stayed behind.
April 2025
