I went to visit Gandan Monastery last week because it felt like something I had to do. I drove past the road that goes up to the monastery that day but came back and enjoyed a very peaceful 30 minutes.
There were four types of prayers I got written down by the monk in the prayer house, which will be prayed and chanted the next morning. One was a prayer that prevents the loss of one's property: be it their wealth, their health, their spirit. And these were prayed for my parents and little brother. The second was a prayer for the man I love: for protection. The third was a prayer of positivity: for a successful career, for a good outcome to whatever you wished for, which was for my whole family. And the last was a prayer for the people we love but who aren't here on earth anymore. My grandparents, my little cousin and a man who would have been my father in law.
I then walked around the monastery, turning the prayer wheels and thinking about all the people I miss. The wheels are like a messenger to the heavens, and it reminds those who left us that we still love them and think of them.
When you see or feel or hear something that coincides with a thought you had before it makes me think that there is some sort of 'rightness' there. The energy of it all makes sense and you were meant to be there, thinking that thought. When these occasions arise it's one of few things I get to do/feel/think/ with utter conviction and clarity because inside it feels 'right' and I do not worry myself by questioning it.
The prayers I said, the wheels I turned and the pigeons I fed were all part of that moment where there was peace, because there was clarity.
I only wish there are more times like these. But their scarcity probably makes me recognise how special these moment can be.
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