Embodying Wakefulness, Resilience and Radical Compassion

Can you imagine yourself standing at the top of the world? You're in the Himalayas, looking out from a vista on the side of a mountain, surrounded by snow-dusted peaks stretching skyward and spanning the horizon. The air is crisp and invigorating. You're literally above the noise of the world. All that you can hear are the birds, the wind, the river roaring below in the valley, and the gentle melody of cowbells. At 3900 m above sea level, perched on the side of a mountain on the way to Thame Valley in Sargamatha (Everest) National Park, this is what mornings at Lawudo Gompa are like.

Life moves at a different pace.

For people who live in Khumbu, the upper Everest region in Nepal, day-to-day conditions and comfort levels are what most of us might consider unimaginable to live by. The villages are almost entirely cut off from conveniences we take for granted. There's no climate control, internet connections are often running on solar power, so they can cut out after a day of overcast, medical attention can be hours away, or you may need to catch a helicopter, the ATM can be several hours or days walk away. Being there simply takes you out of your comfort zone.

I first travelled to Khumbu in 2017. What continues to move me about the place are the people who I meet there. The depth of warmth and openness I experience makes every interaction feel authentic, innocent and raw.

People seem to live with gentle, ever-present wakefulness – a quality they embody in every interaction, in every gesture. Spending time with people in the region has made me see that this wakeful quality, at its heart, can be called self-leadership. Often, self-leadership is associated with boldness or ambition. But what I felt there, is that it can also be something quieter.

One way of defining self-leadership is being awake to each moment, to face each day with resilience and softness, regardless of external challenges. And in that gentle resilience, we can discover a strength that is powerful, adaptable, and deeply connected.

The way of life in these high mountains embodies a kind of compassion that many of us, in our fast-paced world have almost forgotten. Those who I met in Khumbu seemed to radiate a quiet presence. Some may not have much by material standards, but there is a life-affirming richness in their way of life. For example, each day is greeted with reverence, even if tasks are repetitive and physically demanding.

The external conditions are hard, but people carry themselves with softness, devotion to their practice, abundance of spirit and generosity. Compassion can be thought of an ever-present way of being, a constant undercurrent in daily life.

My experience made me question our relationship with compassion in the modern world. We often think of compassion as an act, as something we offer another who is in pain, or struggling.

But can we see compassion as more than that?

What if compassion could be a radical, foundational part of our daily lives?

In our world, where busyness and distraction often dominate, we can lose sight of this perspective.

Radical compassion is woven into every interaction with others and ourselves– it isn't about fixing or solving. It is about being fully awake to each other and to ourselves, meeting each moment with an openness that transforms.

I am reminded of moments while having tea with locals. Sometimes, I can't understand a word being said, and they wouldn't understand me. There was no internet to fall back on, no 'Translate'. Somehow, no words are needed. These moments carry an energy, a simplicity that brings a level of peace. For me, it feels like effortlessly being – a fullness in acceptance of everything as it is. 

Despite living remotely, or in isolation, the lines on the faces of elders in the community spoke to me as marks of laughter, warm-heartedness, a habit of welcoming, and hospitality. Solitude, I was told, offered time for people to cultivate their spiritual practice. Furthermore, a strong sense of community in the region supports deep connections between people, despite large physical distances between homes.

Seeing and feeling the quiet rhythm of life with the mountains as constant companions has taught me a profound lesson: compassion, when deeply embodied, doesn't need words or gestures. It's in the quiet presence we offer each other and the willingness to truly be there, even in silence.

My insights into the embodied wakefulness and radical compassion in the Himalayas remind me of the similarities of wakefulness that are cultivated through practising martial arts. Over my years of training, competing, teaching, and learning, I have discovered the power of staying grounded and wakeful. I have felt and lived through the nonlinear processes that can be called “building resilience”, not just in my body but also in my mind and spirit. This form of discipline is something that has become a lifelong practice of self-leadership. It has helped me hold myself through life's changing seasons and big shifts. Wisdom and compassion are becoming real for me through action and embodied practice. What I find interesting and even magical, is that my training has taught me that true resilience is not about hardness; rather, it is about staying open and having the courage to keep moving with gentle persistence and quiet determination: to lead ourselves with radical compassion.

With this motivation, Evgenii and I developed “Jagariya”. We are offering this journey for others: the transformative experience combining the wonder and awe of the mountains with culture and practice. The trek brings together a lifetime of our experience that converges through our research and practice for the benefit of others.