My Heart Belongs to the Himalayas: An Emotional Journey to Gokyo Lake, Nepal
There are destinations that shift your understanding of the world. And, there are places that shape your being. For me, Nepal is that place. Every time I go, I don’t feel like I’m traveling to Nepal. I feel like I’m going home, and not to a house or a particular city, but to a sensation. A sensation that lies deep within your soul. I have covered a great number of mountain trails. But none has shaped me more than the trek to Gokyo Lake. It wasn’t just about a trip for a destination, it was about waking up a part of me I didn’t realize was missing.
The Melody of the Mountains
When I arrived in Kathmandu, the air was thick with the smell of incense and dust. Prayer flags were fluttering off rooftops and a light ringing sound of a bell was ringing in the distance. The chaos of the city felt alive. But I could feel the Himalayas silently calling me: sweetly, softly, and felt like a call I couldn’t ignore. The trip to Lukla was exciting and humbling. As I flew over the snow-covered ridges of the Himalayas and landed at a tiny little runway. I observed what lay ahead winding beyond a few houses and through trails, suspension bridges, and large white objects in the distance.
And my heart raced not because I was scared, but I was amazed. The trek began, and with each footstep.I felt more flooded in the noise of my existence spread away. The higher I go, the less noise, powerfully I might define noise, resonated in my universe. The air was thin, the rivers were loud, and my mind was clear. Life feels raw, and felt alive.
The First View of Gokyo
After several days of hiking through rhododendron forests, prayer walls, and sleepy little villages, I reached Gokyo Valley. And then there it was, Gokyo Lake. The color of dreams and miracles! It was a blue so pure you wouldn’t believe it if you saw it upon the Earth. The mountains almost seemed to cradle it, like silent guardians, Cho Oyu shimmering on the horizon, gleaming in the sunlight, and clouds participating lazily in the distance.
A soft breeze moved the prayer flags in gentle motions, and nature hummed its most gentle song. I stood at the edge of the world.I had never seenthis beauty before. But this was something deeper. I felt tears welling in my eyes, the type that blooms when your heart is unable to express the feeling.
Nights Underneath a Thousand Stars
That night I spent in a small teahouse on the lake. The wall creaked in wooden soft tones, and the scent of firewood and tea filled the air. Outside the stars awoke counting and sparkling, huge and undeniably beautiful. I had never seen a sky so vast and breathtaking. I sat and looked out the window long after everyone had gone into sleep. The only sounds were the gentle wind sweeping the frozen lake. I began to think of all I had left behind – noise, deadlines, expectations, and how little any of it mattered to me here.
The Painful Goodbye
It was a little harder to say goodbye to Gokyo than I have expected. Time and time again, my eye was drawn to the dancing light on the surface of the lake. To the flags spreading in a gentle wind. I never wanted to leave, I remember, I wanted to stay and stop time and take that peace back home with me.
But mountains educate you in their own way. They reveal beauty to you and then let you know that everything Months on, I still dream of Gokyo. Every once in a while during a hectic day, I close my eyes and find myself back here: by the lake, the wind on my face, mountains standing quiet and timeless.
Nepal taught me that peace is not a place on the map. It is something inside you that awaits your remembrance. And on occasion you must tread through thin air, over towering bridges, and to the heart of the Himalayas in search of it. Gokyo changed me. It’s a reminder that silence can be damn beautiful, stillness can mend your wounds. And most of the time the quietest instances in life tend to leave us at a loss for words.