Pain - The best teacher

How many times in life do we really get to know ourselves deeply? We are social animals and meet several new people in our daily life. It is said that on an average, even an introvert interacts with at least one unknown person daily. In this complex and highly social world, we easily forget to meet ourselves, not realizing the importance for it. Not willingly, but I met myself very closely one day and almost refused to recognize this inner being.

It was end of April 2016, a cold day with harsh winds blowing in the upper Khumbu region of the Himalayas.  I woke up tired and unwilling to go anywhere because the past few days’ fatigue from trekking had made my legs sore. However, we had targeted reaching the Everest Base Camp in 7 days. So, we begun, though half-heartedly.

As we begun ascending, the pain increased with every 15-20 meters. Not much elevation was achieved by noon and I needed to speed-up to reach the next halt by end of day. I walked alone for long as my team, guide and porter were far ahead. The route for Everest Base Camp from Lukla is rather simple, with only 2 diversions on the way. If you are aware of those, one can easily walk alone in the region harmlessly. I decided to take my time and pace it out slow. The silence of the Himalayas is rather too loud and I could hear my soul screaming of pain – physical as well as mental. I fell on my knees not wanting to go anywhere and cried. Never had I found myself so demotivated and ready to give-up all that was achieved thus far. I dragged myself to a nearby village and decided to halt there. My legs were in excruciating pain.

That night, I was shaken not because of the pain that I couldn’t tolerate but because I didn’t recognize the part of me who would give-up. Usually, I am stubborn and would sail through anything on the back of my unmatched determination. But that day, I had succumbed to the perils and lost all courage to get back up. I spent the evening dipping my legs in warm salt water and sipping on some khukri (a local rum in Nepal), to keep me as warm as it could. The temperature outside was about minus 3 degrees Celsius, something I hadn’t dealt with earlier. To add to that, the home stays along the entire Khumbu region do not have heaters. So, you are expected to make peace with the cold.

Next morning, when I woke up, the house keeper, a middle-aged native lady dressed in a large yak wool cloak, served me a cup of steaming Himalayan lemon tea with some boiled eggs and sat by my side holding my hand. She said ‘this game isn’t about physical strength but emotional strength that gets you through the toughest terrain.’ Tears rolled down my eyes because I realized that my defeat last evening was not about the pain but I surrendered mentally. That wasn’t the real me. Couldn’t have been. I finished my tea, took a few deep breaths and assured myself of never giving-up because pain comes only to make us stronger. It is a difficult exam, once passed you do not have to reappear. I started my onward journey that day with much more determination. The pain had started to fade away gradually, mostly because my muscles and tissues were becoming numb from the cold. There’s only so much you can feel, beyond which there is blissful numbness.

On my remaining journey to the Everest Base Camp, I fell sick once again, much worse than this pain in the legs and was bed-ridden for a day, forced to stay lied down in the sun room so that the heat from the metal roof getting baked in the sun could heal me. But I walked the next day alone to catch up with fellow trekkers and that journey made me fall in love with walking solo. I met myself and loved this human so much. I loved the vulnerabilities and strength it derived from each situation. For the first time, I fell in love with myself, truly.