Lhünzhub (Linzhou) lies about sixty kilometers northeast of Lhasa, in a high valley along the southern flank of the Nyenchen Tanglha Mountains. A clear river threads the valley; barley fields and poplar belts follow its run, and low ridgelines lift and settle in the wind.
What I love most are the minutes when light runs along the ridge in autumn's late afternoons. Wind combs the tassels one way; the stupa constellation turns into a chessboard awaiting its next move, white color glowing a quiet blue-gray. Two small flames stand watch in the dark; set the heart between them and it slips back home - a gentle calibrator.
I used to think the task was to bring light home. In Lhünzhub I learned, instead, to stand where light passes - to be the path it takes, to move with it as one. As Jin Nong (1687-1763) had it: Four winds converge; be still at the heart.
