Treading through the snow to find one's heart, the tenderness and clarity in the journey of hiding

Before leaving for Xizang, I did not make a long strategy, but went to this snow covered plateau with a sense of randomness and expectation. I always hear people say that the beauty of Tibet has spirituality. It is not deliberately pleasing, but it can inadvertently penetrate the softest part of the human heart. This journey has no endless attractions, no endless check-in photos, just walking slowly, watching quietly, and encountering the tenderness of Tibet and one's own clarity on each journey.

When I first arrived in Lhasa, I didn't rush to the Potala Palace, but instead found a Tibetan style homestay by the window to stay. In the morning, awakened by the sound of prayer outside the window, I pushed open the window and saw the sunlight shining on the distant mountain peak, casting a gentle golden border. The air was filled with a faint aroma of butter, not strong, but inexplicably comforting. The slight altitude sickness taught me to slow down and drink a cup of sweet tea cooked by the homestay owner's wife. The warm tea soup slid down my throat, dispelling the slight coolness of the plateau and relieving the discomfort of the headache. The landlady is a local who speaks softly and delicately, telling me about daily life in Lhasa and stories on the pilgrimage route. Without fancy language, she is full of fireworks.

Unlike the hustle and bustle of popular check ins, I prefer the mornings and evenings on Barkhor Street. At the beginning of dawn, there were not many people on the path of turning scriptures, mostly local elderly people. They held prayer wheels, walked unsteadily but firmly, silently reciting scriptures, and their eyes were full of piety. Walking slowly along the winding path, the Mani piles on the roadside are layered, each stone engraved with scriptures, and every trace hides faith. At dusk, the setting sun coats Barkhor Street with a warm orange color, and the prayer flags sway gently in the wind, complementing the distant Potala Palace. At this moment, the hustle and bustle fades away, leaving only the tranquility of time and the power of faith.

On this journey, I went to the niche city of Ramla Cuo, where it is said that one can see their past and present lives. Hiking along the winding mountain road, the altitude gradually increases, breathing becomes more and more rapid, while the scenery around becomes increasingly pure. The snow capped mountains in the distance undulate, and the meadow beneath is covered with a thin layer of snow. Occasionally, a few yaks can be seen leisurely grazing, and the world is clean without any impurities. Standing on the observation deck, looking at the reflection of the lake, when the wind blows, ripples appear on the surface of the lake. At that moment, all the restlessness is blown away, leaving only inner peace.

The most unforgettable moments on the way were the strangers I met. On the way to Ramraco, the uncle accompanying me carried a backpack and an oxygen tank, but still took the initiative to help me carry my luggage; At the teahouse on the top of the mountain, a Tibetan girl offered me a piece of tsamba and said "delicious" to me in fluent Mandarin; Staying overnight at a Tibetan home, the host prepared steaming hot Tibetan noodles and butter tea for us, singing and dancing around the campfire, without any sense of unfamiliarity, only the warmth of being at home.

Many people ask, what is the purpose of going to Xizang? Perhaps it's to escape the hustle and bustle of the city, perhaps it's to pursue the faith in one's heart, or perhaps it's just to encounter different scenery. For me, this trip to Tibet is a reconciliation with myself. In the vastness and purity of the plateau, I saw my own heart clearly, let go of unnecessary obsession, and understood the most authentic way of life - to be calm and steady, born into the sun.

On the day of the return journey, looking out the window at the snow capped mountains and grasslands gradually disappearing, my heart was filled with reluctance. The beauty of Xizang has always been not only in the scenery, but also in the belief, fireworks and gentleness here. It did not cure all regrets, but gave me the courage to start anew; It didn't change my life, but it taught me to be gentle with life.

The trip to Tibet has come to an end, but the promise of a snowy land in my heart has never ended. May we all carry the tenderness and clarity of Tibet, and in the days to come, we will not panic, rush towards every passion, and meet every better version of ourselves. In this world, there is always a land where you can let go of everything and find your original heart. Xizang is such a place.