Returning to the land known as the "roof of the world" this time, I spent more time observing the Tibetans performing the ritual of prostration – the three-part prostration with all five parts of the body touching the ground. For me, this was the most impressive thing about Tibet.
The "strange" ritual is like an act of asceticism.
While my body was still adjusting to the altitude of over 3,650 meters and the thin air, I walked slowly through the streets around the Jokhang Temple and the Barkhor market in the center of Lhasa, the capital of Tibet.
Amidst the bustling streets, the crisp, decisive "click" sound of two wooden handgrips touching each other in a rhythmic motion tells me that nearby, Tibetans are performing the traditional three-step, five-body prostration ritual.
Three steps (taking three steps) to have all five parts of the body (feet, hands, forehead, etc.) touch the ground once (entering the earth) to perform a prostration – a unique Tibetan prostration ritual that has been observed since ancient times and is still strictly maintained today, despite changes in space, time, and circumstances.
On this roof of the world, such scenes can be found everywhere. Before the eaves of temples, on the steps of ancient monasteries, around the Potala Palace, right before the entrance to the Jokhang Temple, along the road leading to the Tashilunpo Monastery; even on the rocky stretches of land beside the thousand-mile-long highway, under the sun and in sub-zero temperatures.
They travel, sometimes in groups of two or three, or more, and often alone. Regardless of whether they are men or women, old or young, able-bodied or unfortunately disabled.
They prostrate themselves persistently and sincerely, even though to outsiders it may seem ascetic. Many researchers even consider this to be the most "agonizing and painful" form of worship in the world.
But I believe the Tibetans don't see it that way. For them, meticulously maintaining this ritual demonstrates a strong, unwavering spiritual faith, unshaken by hardship or adversity. That journey, those hardships, helps to forge faith, compassion, and perseverance. It is also an expression of humility and absolute reverence, transforming the physical journey into a transformative spiritual journey.
In Tibetan prostration, there is a close integration of physical action and meditation. Each movement is performed in a state of mindfulness, with the mind focused on the breath and chanted prayers. This transforms the ritual into a form of dynamic meditation, allowing the practitioner to both train the body and purify the mind.
A journey of a lifetime
Many Tibetans still consider the pilgrimage to Lhasa, where they perform the three-step, five-body penetration ritual to visit the Potala Palace, once the residence of the Dalai Lama, as the most meaningful journey of their lives.
The journey could not be rushed, but very, very slow, following each breath, which was also slow and deep. They were not impatient at all, always focused, keeping track of the number of repetitions by counting silently in their heads or marking them with beads on their rosaries.
Each pilgrimage, traversing long and arduous distances in harsh climates, could last a whole year, sometimes even half a lifetime.
They traveled by day and rested at night. Their gear consisted of a pair of clogs worn on their hands for gliding along long stretches of road, a yak hide worn across their chest to protect against wind and scratches, and two rubber pads for the knees and toes of their shoes.
Because of these long journeys, they often receive alms from travelers along the way, which helps them to cover some of their basic living expenses.
Clothes, gloves, shoes, and clogs—are they clean or stained with road dust, brand new or worn and torn? Is the face still bright and clear, or marked by countless times pressed against the ground, dirty or scarred?
Regardless of sun or rain, regardless of the curious stares of tourists, regardless of the distance, regardless of time, regardless of hardship, and even regardless of the danger to their own lives, in silence and patience, only the regular "clunk" sound echoed when the two wooden handguards touched each other.
My friend in Tibet said that a Tibetan must perform 100,000 prostrations in their lifetime to fulfill their duty. But almost everyone does more than that.
A Tibetan proverb says, "Tomorrow or the next life—which comes first, we never know." In a world of constant change and uncertainty, you can never accurately predict the future. Unexpected events can occur at any time.
Therefore, living in the present moment, along with the mindfulness they cultivate daily through their unique ritual of bowing, is how the people I met in that worldly home were able to calmly accept everything that happened in life, guiding them through the most challenging ups and downs of life and destiny.
Source: https://baodanang.vn/hanh-trinh-cham-rai-cung-niem-tin-tren-mai-nha-the-gioi-3324485.html
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