In the summer of 2022, a group of us traveled to Tibet for a charity project. Before the trip, I viewed Tibet as a backward and primitive place, something in need of our intervention. I believed I represented civilization, technology, and the future of humanity.
After three days on the train, we finally arrived in Lhasa. As we traveled, the sky grew bluer, and the clouds became thinner, creating an overall sense of purity. Behind this cleanliness, there seemed to be an indescribable gentleness and strength quietly growing. It was a profound tranquility that made me realize this was not a place in need of “improvement,” but a world brimming with its own unique charm and energy.
As we neared Lhasa, the train staff opened the oxygen cabin. We, the so-called “civilized” ones, were struggling; we lined up to use the oxygen masks, looking weak and exhausted. After disembarking, I could feel my body no longer belonged to me—my head throbbed as if it would explode, and my legs felt heavy as lead, barely able to move. One of our group even turned pale, clearly suffering from altitude sickness. The driver took us to a guesthouse run by a local named Lhamo, a five-story building without an elevator. Each trip up and down the stairs felt like a torturous challenge, pushing my limits with every step. Our itinerary was postponed, and we lay weakly in our rooms.
We spent three full days lying in that room. My world spun uncontrollably, every cell in my body battling the high-altitude environment. My proud self-image as a “civilized” person was trampled by this endless dizziness. All sense of superiority crumbled in the face of nature's power. After three days, Lhamo invited us downstairs for a simple meal of barley noodles. The dish was rustic, and the first bite felt a bit dry, far from the deliciousness I had imagined. Yet, in that moment, I felt the authenticity and simplicity of this land.
In those early days in Tibet, my body endured rounds of painful adjustment. But you know what? After surviving those initial hardships, when I first stepped outside the guesthouse and took a deep breath of fresh air, my soul felt lighter. Suddenly, all my senses seemed amplified, and the world felt vibrantly alive. I could smell the sweetness in the air and the earth’s fragrance, a deeply profound and wondrous experience. It felt as if something deep within me had been awakened; the burdens I carried and the pressures accumulated in the city vanished in an instant.
At that moment, I realized this place was a paradise on earth. Tibet, with its sacred and holy lands, offered me not just sensory liberation, but a cleansing of the soul. The towering snow-capped mountains against the brilliant blue sky radiated an incredible sense of majesty and purity. The air was so clear and sweet, as if carrying blessings from heaven, inviting me to leave behind all worldly troubles and merge with this sacred land.
Later, I chatted with Lhamo, and his voice and laughter became strikingly clear and genuine. Looking into his eyes and hearing his heartfelt laughter made him seem so light and free. I envied their smiles, which required no forced professionalism; they were rooted in pure, effortless joy. That kind of smile conveyed the most authentic human kindness and welcome, free from burdens and pretense. Lhamo’s smile filled me with warmth, as if I had found long-lost peace and freedom on this land.
In this highland, I gradually realized that the labels of “civilization” and “backwardness” were merely narrow perceptions of our own making. Here, I experienced a power of harmonious coexistence with nature, a pure happiness found between heaven and earth. Those whom I once thought needed “saving” taught me, through their simple and sincere approach to life, what it means to be light and free. In Tibet, I learned how to feel and experience the present moment rather than being consumed by conquest and transformation.
This realization was remarkable, prompting me to rethink and reassess the arrogance of so-called “civilized” people. In the grand scheme of things, we are all small; true power lies not in technology and transformation, but in our ability to unite with nature and perceive the beauty of the world with a pure heart. In this paradise, I felt an unprecedented sense of holiness and sanctity, as if my soul had been purified, becoming light and transparent. On this sacred land, I finally found that long-awaited peace and happiness.
