Mongolian Report 2023

Today is June 11 having returned from Mongolia the night before. I’m sitting home, contemplating our journey to Mongolia and the nomadic Reindeer People who live in the Taiga Province. Way more than a trip and more of an immersion. The last 14 days myself and 3 guests have been in the outer reaches of Mongolia in a deep immersive process with Spirit, Ancestors, Nomadic people and Shamans.

Our journey started in Ulaanbaatar, the capital city of Mongolia. We traveled across the country for three days stopping and camping at mountain sides and rivers. Mongolia is not short of land, natural land, untouched land. The water is clean and fresh, and the countryside is dotted with Gers (Yurts) and livestock. We’ve been surrounded by horses, cows, yaks’ sheep, and goats. We eventually went as far as we could in our Jeep and converted to horses after a lovely time with our nomadic host family and horseman. Our horseman is a young father is a deeply dedicated man likely in his mid 30’s with a beautiful wife and 3 children. His young 9-year-old son would embark on the journey with us, his first of many to come, I’m sure. This young boy handled his horse as expertly as 10-year-olds manage a bicycle. It’s customary in Mongolia to prioritize the lives of the young ones. Nomadic life has little use for electronics, computers or video games and instead life in the natural world becomes the playground for learning. When a group of adults are mingling or talking everything stops when a child interrupts. They are not chastised to be quite or mind their manners, instead the adults prioritize giving attention freely to the child. When a child comes to the table of the adults everything happening at that table stops to give priority to the child. Imagine that! This concept and cultural norm feels incredibly powerful to me.

Our horseman, his 9-year-old son, his 19-year-old nephew and his sister in law saddled our horses and gear for the next full day of horseback riding through epic landscapes and mountainside. Everything is eco-friendly and mindfully considered as the packing is completed. Our group now embarked for 6 hours on our horses through epic scenery and landscape. The horses were amazing at navigating the trickery of the landscape. At one point we had to cross a river created by a glacier that was thawing, giving in to the warmth of spring. The water, pristine and clean, surrounded by a mountain landscape, and our small selves and our horses navigating the artistry of the scenery left us speechless and contemplative. At times, the landscape and scenery were overwhelming, that we were frequently moved to tears by the majesty of it all.

As we round the mountain, several miles ahead of us, we could see reindeer, grazing in the brush, and a few miles later, we found the winter camp of the reindeer people. The dogs of the camp, strategically posted and kept watch over the herds of reindeer, barking at anything unusual, like five Americans and their horses coming to camp. Later I learned that the responsibility of these dogs is to protect the herds from wolves.

The people at Taiga, and the reindeer people of this remote and nomadic way of life immediately touched our hearts with their kindness and generosity as they offered us reindeer tea, and although we didn’t understand each other’s language, the language of the heart was completely adequate. They appreciated our sore bodies and exhaustion from the trip knowing it themselves. Surrounded by herds of reindeer, dogs, children, and community members our hearts were pried open as we processed life in the Taiga. What we described as harsh and hard was reframed by our host as the best possible life and heaven on earth and why would we want the trappings of the world?

We met this amazing woman who was born in Mongolia, moved to the states when she was 6 years old and lived in the USA until after her education and then returned Mongolia and the Taiga and has been there for 14 years. She revealed her knowledge of English when she laughed at our humor. Later she told us her story and how the Taiga was her life. Her testimony was one of courage, personal integrity and alignment with what she truly valued which was her life with her partner, family and community.

Our shaman, who we referred to as “she-shaman” was a woman of simple means, shy by nature with an occasional wit and glimmering in her eye suggesting she saw more than most. She received our simple offering of cedar, sage and a beaded lighter as if jewels from faraway places and eagerly agreed to do ritual with us. We had met this woman approximately five years ago with our first journey to the Taiga, and she clearly remembered each of us from that trip in detailed remembrance and agreed to meet with this new group at sunset.

That evening we went to her Teepee, and there she drummed rhythmically for us as she accessed her ancestors and channeled their blessings on us. As she drums and mysteriously hums we find ourselves going in and out of dreamtime as her medicine is powerful. Moments and flashes of insight would come through her drumming that I’m convinced was her conjuring with her gifts. That night the skies were clear, the moon piercing the night sky. The next morning She Shaman who seldom leaves her Teepee let alone her camp, is found sitting in our teepee waiting for her tea and our company. The occasion of her visit is random and mysterious and feels lingering as if she is waiting for something. For her to visit our little camp is significant and like royalty visiting. I mention to Shine (our guide, translator) that I’d welcome She-Shaman to join me in my morning prayers/ pipe. She-Shaman agrees and before I know it several villagers and families join our ritual of song, prayer, and ritual pipe. Although my approach was simple and spontaneous my spirit guides show up and I can feel the powerful feeling of ancestral connections, spirit, and a love for these amazing people. Our journey and time have bonded us, our stories have co-mingled and now the product is this moment of praying for them and their way of life while sharing mine. I’m crying, and when I gather the courage to peer through my tears, I notice that almost everyone American and Mongolian are tearful, touched and transformed by the moment. It’s impossible to share the sacredness of the moment in words but will forever be embedded in my soul. I feel as if this trip has facilitated a necessary healing in my heart. A recovery from American ideals gone rouge, a pandemic, messy politics, personal struggles, and anxieties. Somehow this land, this journey, these people, the natural surroundings have brought much recovery to my heart and spirit. I feel witnessed by this place and feel a connection I will savor.

We reluctantly get on our horses to depart back to our nomadic host family. The 9-year-old boy has entered his manhood. I know that sounds unrealistic and yet his maturity and focused sense of responsibility would be respectable of anyone let alone extraordinary for a 9-year-old. His smile and that of his family infectious. His ability to keep up, work his team of horses and be part of the hosting responsibilities has surpassed most grown men’s capacities. His father is beaming with an ultimate pride in his son, and we’ve witnessed the miracle of Mongolian nomadic life, unplugged from technology but profoundly plugged into family, nature and culture.

We detoured on the way home as a Shaman (He-Shaman) has suggested his place as a location for our camp and we agree. This nomadic family’s hospitality and humor was salve on our sore bodies and added fuel to our sense deep gratitude. With four grandchildren running and playing we see our 9-year-old guide slip easily into his youthfulness. Nomadic hospitality would suggest no one is a stranger and all are welcome, and we witness this repeatedly on the trip. This He-Shaman is curious of our world and brings out an atlas to ask questions about where we are from and the “rituals” that we embrace. We talk through our translator for a few hours until the full moon beckons our sleep. Even though we have been here less than 12 hours we reluctantly bid farewell to our new friends. No ritual as the day and time is not right for this ancestor to come forward and reveal himself, but we have been blessed!

The time with nature over this extended time has done something to us. None of us are terribly connected to the day or time. What feels like 3pm is in all actuality 9pm. We rise with the sun and sleep with the moon. The constructs of time are no longer our dictators and the rhythms of the body in relationship to the sun (and moon) guide our process. Unplugged from computers, iPads, phones and wi-fi liberate us from the anxieties of the world. The constructs of time were suspended, literally.

We are… free.

We eventually return to the nomadic family’s home where our 9-year-old superhero lives. His father who rarely missed a moment to flash a smile, the sister-in-law whose work ethics were deeply impeccable, revealed the mother within as she shared pictures of her family and her children. Again, no language and yet the language of family and smiles communicated all we needed to know. The 19-year-old, unlike most I know, eagerly played and visited with us, hungry to practice his English mastering the sentence “Your saddle OK?” When it was time to say good-bye, feelings were raw, we had shared so much together. Our 9-year-old superhero hugged Shine our guide, burying his face in her jacket eventually revealing the biggest tears I’ve witnessed, only brought out his Father’s pride in his son in equally big tears provoking the rest of the group as we expressed our tears revealing this epic landscape of deep feeling and gratitude amongst all of us.

Our general sense of the whole journey was an immersive experience with spirit and the natural world. We became aligned with the natural world and the spirit of the ancestors of Mongolia and the landscape and beauty of this natural land. We often remarked how we were literally in the middle of nowhere and yet felt the full attention of the universe was on us… there was inner harmony that was a byproduct of our travels.

As we drove home, across the countryside and eventually to paved roads we pondered how to keep the energy of this alignment active in our consciousness fearful of losing that heart opening fully engaged in the backcountry.

As we drove, we had invigorating discussions on transformation, inner evolutions, and the damage of adherence to concepts of worthiness. We challenged the constructs of cultural expectations and dared to explore the expansiveness of our capacities and beyond.

We laughed. A lot.

We unraveled our fears and faced them squarely and we discovered our capacities only to explore more…. and we laughed. Each of us evolving as we sought to embrace and upgraded version of ourselves.

So much more to share. So much more to digest. Each shamanic session was powerful. Reunions with relationships cultivated years ago with many of the folks of Taiga. I think of these Mongolians as dear friends, family, and fellow journeyers in the quest of meaning and life. Throughout the pandemic I wondered how they were managing, and it was a deep pleasure witnessing their growth and thriving post pandemic, knowing it was hard on them and satisfied that they made it through had me feeling a sense of wonderment.

I think I did permeant damage to my faulty sense of self and revealed a place of harmonic joy while in Mongolia. I’m changed and so much more for the better.

People ask….. why Mongolia?

And

Now you know.

Farewell Dear Friend

A Buzz in the Land

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