The ceremony commenced. First was the blonde lady, speaking in Italian, and being translated into (I assume) Tibetan, by a monk standing next to The Man.
It was all very cordial and spoken with much enthusiasm. The lady finally introduced The Man who rose to a standing ovation. The broad smile became even more pronounced. He spoke quietly, pausing for the Italian translation and finally the lady stepped forward with a bright red folder which she passed to Him. The crowd stood and applauded.
She then indicated towards the aisle and he stepped down, joined again by the monks, he walked back towards to rear of the hall. Again, trumpets, camera flashes, jostling and loud applause. Though this time, the crowd moved towards the aisle, to get near The Man they’d all come to see.
I held back, not feeling confident or deserving to be anything other than a spectator. A recurring theme from my journals came to mind. Am I going to be just an ‘observer’ on this trip? Can I loosen up and “participate”, rather than observe? Approach others and initiate conversation? Learn to do this on the trip and apply when I get back. Perhaps it was not to leave Keiko, she was still sitting on the chair whilst everyone else was standing and moving towards Him.
Him and his entourage walked back through the doorway at the rear. The cameras, lights, security and police mingled, exchanged lively conversation and then slowly walked away.
As the crowd left down the stairs. I did not want to leave, go back to the square and lose the warm feelings from the reception and being so close to Him.
I stood and watched the audience leave, as well as, all the media, the trumpeters and the police. No one came over to guide me out, it was as if I was invisible!
So, I walked to the rear and stood in the middle of the room, opposite the doorway that He entered. Still no one approached me. So, there I stood, not sure what I was expecting, other than to see Him again.
Then after a few minutes, a monk appeared in the doorway, then HE came out with only the monks with him. No security, no media, no cameras. Just him and his entourage.
They then walked across the room towards me. I just stood there, calmly, and He lifted his eyes and looked into mine. He waved a hand ever so slightly and the monks each side of Him slowed and took a step aside. He then put out his hand towards me, as he approached. His right hand reached for my left. He continued on slowly, taking me with Him. His eyes softened and small smile came across his face. No words were exchanged, just the human contact of hands and eyes. As we approached a set of large double doors, he stopped, his grasp loosened and we exchanged a passing glance. The monks stepped forward and opened the doors. As He passed through the doors and onto a wide balcony, the glare of the afternoon sun flooded through the opening and the silence was broken by a roar of noise. We couldn’t see them, but a large crowd were assembled in the square below the balcony. He moved towards a microphone stand and the roar became deafening! All I could see was his silhouette, with one arm raised and gentle palm facing the crowd.
As I walked down the stairs, I had trouble breathing. I had to concentrate on each step. The square was near empty a little time ago was now nearly full of people all looking towards the balcony. I made my way around the back, the furtherise point from the balcony. I could just see the figure standing at the microphone and hear his words intermittently. I was still light-headed, gasping for air, near hyperventilating. I stood near a fountain nearby, as the breeze was quite strong, I let the spray hit me. It felt cool on my face and seemed to help me become calm and recover my breath. AS my body returned to normal, I could still feel my left hand and his touch. I could still ‘feel’ Him, his strength and yet a gentleness.
Once I gathered myself, I felt the need to move away from the crowd, the noise and the warm afternoon sun. I saw Keiko nearby and walked across to her. We’d planned to visit the Accademia museum and even though it was later than planned, I suggested that, and she agreed.
I consulted my map, found a quick route through side streets, as it was closing in less than an hour. She had left after the reception. She asked what had happened afterwards. I tried to explain what had happened and what I’d experienced. Yet, I found it hard to find the words. I chose to leave out our holding hands and walking together. I wasn’t ready to express the feelings; they were still raw. In a way, I wanted to keep it to myself, to continue to absorb the experience. It felt like I would lose the feelings in my body if I expressed them?!
Travels 