The gift of perspective – a view from Nagarkot



It takes me four hours to climb from the screaming city; to wade through the accomplished rural chaos of Bhaktapur to Nargakot. I end up so high the trees look like broccoli and mud brick houses shine like chocolate smarties in the hills. The air is crisp like fresh sheets; it seems to breathe me, not the other way around. Below and above me everything appears small and vast, chaotic and ordered at the same time.

Suddenly I’m filled to bursting with the universe’s blissful disorientation, and I’m struck by an intimate and comforting knowing – I am part of that same crazy confusion, it is my own internal aliveness.

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