In the presence of an Ocean of Wisdom – part II

We wait for him in the prayer hall of Gyudmed Monastery, seated in silence, with our hearts beating faster with every passing minute. The atmosphere changes suddenly: a deep silence descends, as if everyone were holding their breath. It’s like a wave spreading out and passing through us. He is coming. We sense it even before we see him.

And then, there he is. His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama appears on the threshold, supported by two monks who help him walk — but it almost seems he doesn’t really need it. Every two steps he turns, left and right, offering smiles and blessings, seeking each person’s gaze. His presence is powerful yet light, as if suspended between earth and sky. A living icon of peace, of resilience. A man who made History, who has walked through suffering with a serene heart.

The emotion is overwhelming. My heart beats loudly. It feels unreal, maybe a dream. After a short puja, His Holiness retires to meditate, and we too remain seated in silence, with slow breath and a full mind.

Inside the Gyudmed Monastery during the long-life prayer for His Holiness

The next day, we wake up early. The sky is still dark, the air is cool, the forest around us pulses with the sounds of the night that haven’t yet faded. We head again to the prayer hall, where the monks tell us we will soon be received by His Holiness for a brief private audience.

Other visitors go before us. From the antechamber we see them kneeling as they listen to his words, but we can neither see nor hear him. The wait becomes thick, almost physical. The atmosphere is charged with solemnity. Enrica, who with me represents Wisedāna Foundation on this incredible journey, looks at me and seems a little worried — maybe she thinks my heart is about to burst. And maybe she’s right.

Then, finally, we are admitted. We enter the room, His Holiness is seated. Together we bow three times at his feet. Then, one by one, we kneel before him. He leans forward, embraces us, looks into our eyes, holds our hands, smiles at us. He blesses us. Our eyes fill with tears. Even now, as I write, they fill again. It’s an emotion beyond words. Something transcendent.

Just after entering the room, I kneel in a sign of respect and receive His Holiness’ blessing

Enrica, myself, and the few others who entered with us sit in a semicircle at his feet, deeply moved and ready to listen. He begins to speak.

His voice is warm, clear, steady: «Every morning I wake up and think of all sentient beings».

It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water. His voice, for the first time, enters my ears and my heart, and carries with it the most beautiful words I have ever heard. In that instant I understand with deep clarity that he is the Guide. The Inspiration.

He continues: «Practicing Buddhism, even just a little, is of immense benefit for oneself and for others. It helps in difficult situations. The exile from Tibet was a tragedy, but if it hadn’t happened I wouldn’t have been able to speak to so many people in the world.»

Everything is interconnected. With just a few words he is giving me a most precious teaching on interdependence. He is explaining how even pain, if lived with wisdom, can open unimaginable paths.

«The night I fled from Lhasa was dramatic. We had to flee quickly and in secret because there was an uprising in the city. On horseback we reached a place very far from the city, but from there we could still see it. We stopped. I turned and looked at Lhasa from afar, knowing I would never see it again. I said goodbye to it with a serene heart.»

He is recounting one of the most important moments of his life, of the history of Tibet, of our history. And he does it with simplicity, with grace. He is telling us that it is possible to face reality with serenity, no matter how painful. We have infinite resources within us. He speaks to us of compassion, of non-hatred, of gentle strength.

And then he says: «No matter how difficult things are. Don’t worry. Continue.»

I feel that those words are for me, for us. An invitation to live with courage, with calm, with determination. An invitation to continue, even when it is difficult. Even when frustration and fatigue are felt. It is an invitation to dedicate ourselves to others. Not to give up.

He is not telling us to change the world, he is not talking about extraordinary achievements. He simply says continue. And within that verb there is everything: effort and faith, dedication and trust, pain and hope. I feel it as a personal message, but also as a collective mission. It is as if he had drawn a clear line between the past and the future, and was asking us — with infinite kindness — to walk that path with courage, day after day.

Enrica kneeling before His Holiness, who welcomes and blesses her

I look around. We are together in the room, but each one is with their own emotion. We all hear the same words, but later, when we share, we discover that each of us received a slightly different message, precisely because we listened to words that were deep and full of meaning. For me it is a moment of truth: I understand that this path, which we chose almost on tiptoe, is profoundly right. Not because it is easy or perfect, but because it is born of a clear intention. I feel that our mission has a radical meaning, even if a silent one. It is a way to respond to suffering without becoming hardened, to remain open, alive. I feel, in this moment, that our mission is something quietly revolutionary, something that could not be otherwise. A necessary path, inevitable, full of meaning.

I feel moved, grateful. My heart is full of joy. And I know that, from this moment on, nothing will ever be the same again.

…
The beginning of Beatrice’s account was published in April 2025: you can read it HERE

Photo Credits: The Office of His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Text by Beatrice Marzi
Edited by Marta Turchetta