The Snow Leopard

1. The Himalayan Trek as a Spiritual Pilgrimage

Since the usurpation of Tibet by the Chinese, the Land of Dolpo, all but unknown to Westerners even today, was said to be the last enclave of pure Tibetan culture left on earth, and Tibetan culture was the last citadel of "all that present-day humanity is longing for, either because it has been lost or not yet been realized or because it is in danger of disappearing from human sight: the stability of a tradition, which has its roots not only in a historical or cultural past, but within the innermost being of man. . . ."

A journey of the heart. In September 1973, the author embarked with zoologist George Schaller on an expedition to the remote Crystal Mountain in Dolpo, Nepal. While Schaller sought the Himalayan blue sheep and the near-mythic snow leopard, the author viewed the journey as a profound pilgrimage, a "journey of the heart" to a land believed to preserve pure Tibetan culture and ancient spiritual wisdom. This quest was deeply personal, driven by a longing for stability and connection to a tradition rooted in the "innermost being of man."

Beyond scientific pursuit. The expedition's scientific goals, though important to Schaller, served as a framework for the author's deeper, more introspective search. The physical challenges of the trek—navigating treacherous passes, enduring harsh weather, and dealing with unreliable porters—became metaphors for internal struggles. Each step westward and northward, across vast mountain ranges, was a deliberate movement towards a spiritual destination, a "true pilgrimage" to a place where ancient wisdom might still resonate.

Seeking lost wisdom. The author's pilgrimage was also a search for a lost paradise, a return to a primordial state of being. He hoped to encounter the Lama of Shey, a revered "rinpoche," believing that Tibetan culture held the key to "all that present-day humanity is longing for." This yearning for a stable tradition, for a connection to the "spirit-world" and God, underscored the entire journey, transforming a scientific expedition into a profound personal and spiritual quest.

2. The Snow Leopard: A Symbol of Elusive Truth

The hope of glimpsing this near-mythic beast in the snow mountains was reason enough for the entire journey.

A near-mythic beast. The snow leopard, a creature rarely seen by Westerners, became the central, almost mystical, focus of the expedition. For George Schaller, it was a rare and beautiful cat, a scientific prize. For the author, it represented something more profound: an elusive truth, a symbol of the "unseen" or "unperceived" that one might only encounter when truly ready.

The quest for the unseen. The leopard's elusiveness mirrored the nature of spiritual enlightenment itself—something that cannot be forced or captured, but might reveal itself when one is open and receptive. The author's desire to see the snow leopard was intertwined with his spiritual longing, suggesting that the ultimate goal was not merely a physical sighting but a deeper perception of reality. The animal's legendary status elevated the expedition beyond a mere wildlife survey.

Presence without possession. Ultimately, the author's acceptance of not seeing the snow leopard directly, yet feeling its presence, became a powerful realization. He concluded, "That the snow leopard is, that it is here, that its frosty eyes watch us from the mountain—that is enough." This shift from the desire for a tangible sighting to the acceptance of its unseen presence underscored the journey's deeper lesson about non-attachment and the nature of truth.

3. Zen and Buddhist Principles for Inner Peace

To proceed as though you know nothing, not even your age, nor sex, nor how you look. To proceed as though you were made of gossamer ... a mist that passes through and is passed through and retains its form. A mist that loses its form and still is. A mist that finally dissolves, particles scattered in the sun.

The path to liberation. The author's journey is deeply informed by Zen and Mahayana Buddhist principles, particularly the Four Noble Truths and the Eight-fold Path. These teachings emphasize that suffering is inherent in existence, caused by craving, and peace is achieved by extinguishing this craving through right understanding, intentions, speech, actions, livelihood, effort, mindfulness, and concentration. The goal is "prajna," or transcendent knowing, leading to liberation.

Beyond intellectual understanding. Zen Buddhism, in particular, stresses direct, intuitive experience over intellectual dogma or ritual. The author reflects on the Zen expression "Kill the Buddha!" to highlight that even attachment to sacred texts can hinder ultimate perception. The universe itself is the scripture, and religion is the apprehension of the infinite in every moment, as exemplified by the simple yet profound statement: "How wondrous, how mysterious, I carry fuel, I draw water."

Emptiness and true nature. Meditation, especially sitting yoga (samadhi), aims to empty the mind, returning it to a "clear, pure stillness." This "void" is not an absence but the dynamic state of ultimate reality, where individual existence and ego dissolve into formless flux. This "great death" leads to the rebirth of one's "true nature," a state of pearly radiance without beginning or end, where concepts of life, death, time, and space lose their conventional meaning.

4. Embracing Loss and the Unity of Existence

For the first time since unremembered childhood, I was not alone; there was no separate "I."

Grief as a catalyst. The recent death of the author's wife, Deborah, from cancer, profoundly shapes his spiritual quest. Her passing, and his remorse over their relationship, serve as a powerful catalyst for his search for meaning and acceptance. He reflects on Sakyamuni's own journey, prompted by sights of suffering, old age, and death, to find a secret that would free men from the pain of the sensory world.

The illusion of separation. A pivotal moment occurs during a Zen meditation retreat where, chanting the Kannon Sutra, the author experiences a profound dissolution of his "self." This "Smile" or "Presence" reveals a vast benevolence, a sense of being part of something universal, where "no separate 'I'" exists. This experience of unity heals his wounds and remorse, leading to a state of grace and forgiveness.

Interconnectedness of all things. This realization aligns with the Buddhist concept of "Mind" as shared with all existence, and the Hindu doctrine of Maya, where perceived reality is an illusion. The author understands that his wife's dying, "even that, was as it should be," because all truth that mattered was "here now." This profound insight into the identity of self with the universe transforms his perception of loss, seeing it as part of an eternal flow rather than an absolute end.

5. The Profound Wisdom of the Present Moment

When one pays attention to the present, there is great pleasure in awareness of small things; I think of the comfort I took yesterday in the thin bouillon and stale biscuits that shy Dawa brought to my leaking tent.

Mindfulness in action. The journey through the Himalayas, with its constant physical demands and raw natural beauty, forces the author into a state of heightened awareness. He learns to pay "minute attention to details"—a shard of rose quartz, a cinnamon fern, a mound of pony dung. This intense focus on the immediate present, a core tenet of Zen, brings unexpected pleasure and a sense of well-being, even amidst hardship.

Letting go of past and future. The isolation from modern life—no mail, telephones, or news—allows his mind to clear, freeing him from the "ephemeral worlds of past and future." This detachment from external distractions and internal anxieties enables a deeper engagement with the "now." The author finds that "the time it tells is losing all significance," emphasizing the timeless quality of the present moment.

The essence of Zen. The practice of mindfulness, or "nen," is described as "attention to the present with a quality of vibrant awareness, as if this present moment were one's last." This state, where "Mind is Universal Mind," allows one to perceive the "precision and openness and intelligence of the present." It is in this continuous, moment-by-moment experience that true freedom and enlightenment are found, rather than in seeking grand, external revelations.

6. Nature's Unfiltered Reality and Human Impact

Man is modifying the world so fast and so drastically that most animals cannot adapt to the new conditions. In the Himalaya as elsewhere there is a great dying, one infinitely sadder than the Pleistocene extinctions, for man now has the knowledge and the need to save these remnants of his past.

A vanishing wilderness. The expedition reveals the stark reality of human impact on the pristine Himalayan environment. The author observes widespread deforestation, erosion, and the disappearance of wildlife due to subsistence agriculture and overgrazing. George Schaller, the zoologist, laments that "Asia is fifteen to twenty years behind East Africa in its attitudes toward conservation," highlighting the urgent need for wildlife sanctuaries.

The fragility of life. The journey exposes the harshness of nature and the precariousness of life, both human and animal. From the crawling child with useless legs to the dying ancient, and the constant struggle for survival among the local people, the author confronts suffering directly. The sight of dead redstarts, victims of unseasonal blizzards, serves as a poignant reminder of nature's indifference and the vulnerability of migratory life.

Contrasting landscapes. The author contrasts the "paradise" of untouched valleys with the "squalor" of overcrowded villages, where human and animal excrement lies everywhere. He notes the "hellish darkness" of the Kali Gandaki canyon, carved by a river older than the mountains themselves, and the "treeless deserts of the Tibetan Plateau." These observations underscore the delicate balance of ecosystems and the irreversible changes wrought by human activity, making the quest for the snow leopard even more urgent as a symbol of what is being lost.

7. Unexpected Teachers and "Crazy Wisdom"

"When you are ready," Buddhists say, "the teacher will appear."

Tukten, the enigmatic guide. The Sherpa porter, Tukten, emerges as an unexpected and profound teacher for the author. Despite his ambiguous reputation among the other Sherpas—accused of drinking, foul language, and theft—Tukten possesses a remarkable inner calm and "disconcerting smile" that radiates "inner quiet" and "crazy wisdom." He is "free," accepting life's events with equanimity, and his presence acts as a mirror, revealing the author's own inner turmoil.

Lessons in simplicity. Tukten's actions, such as his willingness to help without being asked, his indifference to hardship, and his simple acceptance of life, embody the very principles the author is seeking. He is a "true Bodhisattva," living in the moment, free from attachments. The author realizes that Tukten, through his everyday example, is the teacher he had hoped to find, demonstrating that enlightenment is not found in esoteric rituals but in the simplicity of being.

The Lama's acceptance. The crippled Lama of Shey, Karma Tupjuk, further exemplifies this "crazy wisdom." Despite his physical limitations and isolation, he declares, "Of course I am happy here! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice!" This wholehearted acceptance of his circumstances, without self-pity or bitterness, deeply impacts the author, echoing the Zen teaching of finding freedom within limitations.

8. The Dissolution of Ego and Universal Identity

Snow mountains, more than sea or sky, serve as a mirror to one's own true being, utterly still, utterly clear, a void, an Emptiness without life or sound that carries in Itself all life, all sound.

Transcending the "I." The extreme conditions of the high mountains, particularly the vastness and silence of the snowfields, induce states of consciousness akin to meditation. The author experiences moments where his sense of individual self, the "I," dissolves, replaced by a profound connection to the universe. This "transparence" reveals that the ego is merely a "snow mist on the mirror," obscuring one's true, universal being.

Cosmic interconnectedness. In these moments of ego dissolution, the author perceives the interconnectedness of all matter and energy. He feels his body joining with the sun, his breaths lost in the "mineral breathing of the mountain." This experience aligns with ancient intuitions that "all matter, all 'reality,' is energy," and that individual minds are part of a Universal Mind, like waves are part of the sea.

The ringing of existence. The silence of the snow mountains is not empty but "rings" with the "music of the spheres," the "breathing of the Creator." This vibrant stillness reveals that "all is moving, full of power, full of light." The author's hands, scarred by life, become indistinguishable from his father's, and he simultaneously feels himself as child, present self, and old man, experiencing the timeless unity of existence.

9. Finding Freedom in Acceptance and Non-Attachment

"Of course I enjoy this life! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice!"

Acceptance of "what is." The journey's hardships, from treacherous trails to unreliable porters and dwindling supplies, force the author to confront his own clinging and resistance. He grapples with the "terrific struggle" between clinging and letting go, realizing that true freedom lies not in controlling circumstances but in a "calm acceptance of everything that comes." This non-attachment is a core Buddhist principle, transforming suffering into a path to liberation.

The paradox of choice. The Lama of Shey's joyful declaration, "Especially when I have no choice!" becomes a profound teaching. It highlights the paradox that freedom can be found not in endless possibilities, but in the wholehearted embrace of one's present reality, however limited. This resonates with the author's own experience of finding peace and exhilaration when he lets go of expectations and simply "is here."

Transcending regret and ambition. As the journey nears its end, the author reflects on his initial despair and sense of failure, realizing that his "spiritual ambition" had led him astray. He learns that "the purpose of meditation practice is not enlightenment; it is to pay attention even at unextraordinary times, to be of the present, nothing-but-the-present." This acceptance of the journey's imperfections, and the fleeting nature of transcendence, ultimately brings a sense of peace and lightness, a "free life" without clinging or despising.