The first thing I noticed in Ladakh wasn’t the mountains. It was the quiet. A silence that is not empty but filled with something you can't explain. As I drove through the winding roads and high passes, I kept seeing monasteries perched quietly on hills as if they were looking over everything. At the time I did not realize those monasteries would alter my relationship to stillness.
A Morning at Thiksey
I arrived at Thiksey Monastery right around sunrise. There was the sight of colorful skies above and cold winds around me. With the touch of dawn upon the monastery, its walls were starting to take shape. I remained silent there and watched.
The inner world of the monastery was different from the outer one. There were already monks meditating in rows. They chanted with such power that I could feel myself become one with the chanting. The meditation was a kind of trance in which I did not think about anything. I was just present.
“Some places do not ask you to understand them. They just ask you to feel.”
Standing Still at Diskit
A few days later, I found myself in the Nubra Valley before Diskit Monastery. The terrain had changed entirely. There were sand mountains and an expanse of sky stretching endlessly ahead. Dominating the whole scene was a colossal Buddha statue overlooking the valley. I approached slowly, letting the breeze increase with each step. At the point where I stopped and took a look at my surroundings, everything was so quiet. Not because there was no noise, but because there was a sense of stillness.
The Roads That Lead You Away
Some of the best places I found in Ladakh were not in my itinerary. They were small monasteries tucked away in quiet valleys, and few stopped there. No crowds, no noise, just the sound of the wind and chants in the far. It was rough and wild. I didn't take many pictures there. It just didn’t feel right. Some things are best left unsaid.
When I reached Lamayuru it didn’t seem like Ladakh. The land looked like the surface of the moon with weird formations and dry textures. In the midst of it all stood the monastery in quiet dignity. I remember standing there and thinking how something so peaceful could be in such a rugged place. It felt unreal, but also incredibly grounding at the same time.
When I arrived in Lamayuru it did not seem like Ladakh. The land looked like the moon’s surface with weird formations and dry textures. In the midst of it all the monastery stood in quiet dignity. I remember standing there wondering how something so peaceful could be in such a rugged place. It felt unreal but also incredibly grounding at the same time.
What Stayed With Me
When I left Ladakh I thought I would remember the mountains the roads and the landscapes But the monasteries were what stuck with me most. The stillness the silence the chanting. “They didn’t try to impress me or show me anything. They just were and that was enough. Even now when things seem loud and overwhelming I think about those moments sitting quietly in a monastery somewhere in Ladakh and everything seems a little calmer.