Spiritual medicine, Kathmandu Valley

Many dream of a trip to Nepal. I certainly have. I expected that if I were to go, I’m be hiking vast mountain ranges in arduous but rewarding pilgrimage. As it turns out, for my purposes, I didn’t have to stray too far from Kathmandu.

I’d been in Kolkata with Kali and I can’t remember if there was some precise sign that told me where to go next or if I just knew, which is becoming more and more the case with my intuition – it’s more direct that bothering with signs. Anyway, I arrived into Kathmandu feeling run down and spun out from all the travelling around India and I curled up in my budget room and slept. I was in Thamel in the center of town and it was the perfect place to land, especially in off-season. All the restaurants and cafes of a place that supports many western trekkers and none of the crowds. The orange or white robes of the sanyasis in Varanasi were replaced by the deep maroon of the Buddhist monks. Shops filled with mysterious-looking vajrayana artefacts, gongs and mandala artworks tempted me at every turn but I had no home to put anything in and zero room in my backpack.

Durbar Square

I visited Durbar Square of course, an area of 50+ temples, palaces, and courtyards built over the 12th–18th centuries. Maybe it’s because I was still feeling a bit off, but I was underwhelmed. First of all their extractive attitude towards tourists contrasted sharply with the freedom with which I was able to wander in and out of temples in India without charge (but always leaving a donation). Secondly, most of the temples were closed when I went. They only bother to open them fully for an hour or two a day. There was not much spiritual energy to the place that I was picking up. And I was getting exasperated by the lack of clarity or direction in my life and just wanted to cry (again).

All these travels may sound exciting and fun, and on some levels they were, but I felt like I also didn’t have any other choice. I love an adventure but a big part of me just wanted it all to be over and to settle into ‘making something of my life’ – a home, a healing practise, somewhere to hang a mandala. On my travels I’d prayed to many Gods and Goddesses for help and here I was, praying again. ‘How many Gods do I have to pray to to get an answer around here?!’, I asked Vishnu at his temple. I turned around and a local came up to me. We chatted for a long time, and he gave me lots of answers, including how to get free re-entry to the site. Not necessarily to my deeper questions, but plenty about Kathmandu.

Pashupatinath

I’d maxed out on my tolerance for tourist areas and anyway, it was coming up for Shivaratri. I had wondered where I would be for this important festival, and well, turns out, I was basically in the best place for it. As the most important Shiva temple in Nepal people across India and Nepal travel for many many miles to come to Pashupati for it each year and I was grateful to Shiva for letting me experience it. On the outskirts of Kathmandu, the massive complex includes 518 temples, shrines, ashrams, and ghats (including cremation grounds again) along both banks of the Bagmati. Lots of Sadhus and Aghoris hanging around again, sitting in groups around fires, and very happy to let westerners sit with them and take a photo in exchange for some dakshina.

Spiritually, it’s all about liberating the soul from its animal nature. There’s also a strong Parvati presence, and a strong theme of balance, union and flourishing between masculine and feminine aspects of self and consciousness comes through when you spend time there. I was a few days early so had lots of time to meditate and to let the powerful energies of the place work on me. I’d go back to my hotel room in deep process, knowing I was being reshaped by all the experiences.

I brushed up against the cultural differences again when I tried to go to the Shakti Peeth. These temples are particularly important and I always like to spend extra time meditating there as it supports my Kundalini whenever I’m near one. When I got to the temple at the back of Pashupati, there was a sign saying ‘Hindus only’. I considered, ‘was I a Hindu?’. I’d certainly spent the entire last 6 months doing nothing but visiting Hindu temples, chanting mantras, and doing inner work. In Peru, I’d sat on Ayahuasca with Kali, Shiva and Ganesha countless times and learned many great lessons from them directly. I’d studied the key texts, at least to a basic level as part of my yoga teacher training. I’d recited many hundreds of thousands of mantras. And being allowed to go in there felt important to me in a way I couldn’t explain. Yeah, ok, I’m a Hindu.

Nevertheless, I tried not to look sheepish as I walked in. I paused at the courtyard entrance, testing the waters. A male security guard backed up by a woman with a rifle came up to me. ‘It says Hindu’s only, I’m a Hindu’. They’re having none of it. ‘So what, are you going to shoot me?’, I nod to the gun. They didn’t know what to do with me. I walk a little further, bolder. Everyone else is pretending not to notice me. I go as far as I dare, make a quick prayer and offering, and scamper out. Point made. I sit on the hill behind the peeth and reflect. I know there are some practical reasons for the rule – but I don’t eat meat either. And I know it’s a sensitive topic because people from the west came in and screwed up their country. I don’t know what the right answer was but I do know I felt there was something important about doing what I did, for me, so I let it sit.

Shivaratri came and it was wild. I met many interesting people, some I think I will always remember, and had a great time in celebration. I even got to the point where, sitting next to my lovely young Babi friend – a very shiny, wise thirty year old with plastic legs from when he fell off a train – people actually also took me for a spiritual person and were giving me donations.

Boudhanath

With the festival over I felt it was also time to move on, and headed to the Buddhist district. On the northeast edge of Kathmandu, is one of the largest stupas in the world and the most important Tibetan Buddhist site outside Tibet. A massive white hemispherical dome topped by a 13-step golden pyramid, crowned with a gold spire and featuring the all-seeing Eyes of Buddha painted on all sides. It was a lovely contrast coming into the peaceful atmosphere of the area after the craziness of Shivaratri, and I really needed it. I stayed there nearly two weeks, walking kora every day around the stupa with everyone else, praying and meditating, and having chai lattes in the square. I met some interesting western practitioners and made some friends. And mostly, I healed.

The Buddha described himself as a doctor and that’s the kind of relationship I’ve always had with him. Here he was really showing up for me. He honed in on all the hopelessness I felt, and, as I gazed out over the stupa with all its prayer flags, spent a lot of time reigniting my hope. I could be vulnerable here, and I’d often just lie at the base of the stupa in surrender, tears flowing, and let him heal me. I was processing how lonely I’d been and how much I’d shut people out of my life as they didn’t feel safe after all the abuse in the Peru community. Here, surrounded by many of the kindest people, monks and their families, I was being shown a template for community that was deeply safe, and the contrast was hard to be with. I slowly let my nervous system unwind over those days and regained a sense that the spirit world was actually working to support me in my goals and dreams.

Of course, PM brain kicked in again, and I also got myself wrapped up again in ‘maybe I was here to study vajrayana Buddhism’. I attended a few sessions at the monasteries, and was invited to receive a transmission from a high level Rinpoche who happened to be coming to town, but as I waited for my friend who’d invited me on the grounds outside the monastery I could sense it wasn’t right. ‘That’s for them’, I heard. My path was different. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the accolades and the Lamas and the transmissions, and weirdly, Buddhism especially in the west has built a whole business model around it. But for me, it would have just been consumerism and another form of the guru dependency I was learning to move beyond. So I resisted, gave my humble gratitude, and continued on.

Nagarkot

While I was at Boudhanath I visited some of the antique shops and at one point I came across a Naga statue that spoke to me. I could tell there was actually a Naga spirit trapped in there and that it wanted out. So I invited him to come with me and he accepted. When I’m in a country, I’ll often get called to go to a place with strong Naga energy and to leave an offering and for sure that was coming through now. I’d been moaning at some of the locals about this place called Nagarkot, not so far from the city, still in the valley. Despite the name, they all denied it had anything to do with Nagas: ‘there’s no Nagas there’. But I was sure I was right. If you look at the geography of the region, if the sea level was higher in ancient times, this would have been a natural dwelling place for Nagas and given there were some really powerful temples in the area and meditation caves, I knew I was onto something.

I did visit a whole bunch of temples in the wider Kathmandu region and locally in this spot which was very rich but it’s too much to cover here. What I’ll focus on is the little homestay place I kept being drawn to on my hotel app, because I went there and it was on the edge of a lovely forest with a large river running through it and views out across the valley. When I got there, I met a German woman who I’d had past lives with. She was also very spiritual, and had hurt her ankle. Well, I looked at it and it turns out I needed to do a clearing for her from Sumerian times which was expressing through her ankle injury. We were supposed to be there together at that time as part of some kind of mechanism for restoring balance for that land and the ankle thing was part of it. So was giving offering. I found a resonant spot by the river and did my ceremony. I was also able to return my Naga spirit to the land and waters, finding him a more suitable new home.

It was beautiful there and I would have liked to have stayed but I could feel the cosmic clock ticking again and I knew I had to return to Rishikesh. So I packed my bags and was off.

Want more like this in your inbox? Follow me on Substack or subscribe below.