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I once owned only two sets of clothes. One set was on my body. The other was dripping on a line. I washed them in cold water, in a plastic bucket. No sun to help them dry. Just wind, time, and the bite of Himalayan air.
I wore my outer robes for weeks at a time, only changing what was closest to the body. There was no wardrobe, no fresh set waiting. Just a rhythm of wear, wash, and wait.
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It wasn’t a lifestyle choice. It was commitment and devotion. And in that devotion, something precious began to emerge—space, clarity, and the quiet depth of contentment.
The Stillness of Waiting
In winter, wet clothes stiffened overnight. On the rooftop, wind tugged at the fabric with the steady indifference of mountain weather—neither cruel nor kind, simply present. Drying took days. So I waited.
And in that waiting, I learned something. Not from books, not from ideas, but from the slow movement of time itself. Everything ripens when it’s ready. Your robes. Your thoughts. Your practice.
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It was in those simple acts. These included scrubbing robes, waiting for them to dry, and breathing into discomfort. That is how the six Pāramitās began to take root.
Generosity, discipline, patience, joyful effort, meditation, and wisdom are not abstract concepts. They are living qualities. These qualities are cultivated one ordinary moment at a time.
Mold and the Quiet Kingdom
I spent three months on a solo retreat. During that time, I lived in a secluded old stone house. This house had once belonged to the village Maharaja. It was monsoon season. I didn’t go outside at all. The rain fell endlessly. I chanted, played instruments, meditated, studied, and let the world recede into mist and memory.
One day, I walked out into the hallway and noticed my only pair of rubber sandals—completely overtaken by mold. Softened and spotted green. Three months of silence from me, and the world had gone on with its quiet transformations.
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I hadn’t worn the shoes, so I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t needed them.
Retreat was a return to the essentials. To rhythm. To depth. And to the subtle joy that comes when nothing worldly is distracting.
The Invisible Wealth
That retreat didn’t leave me with more things. It left me with a foundation. What I practiced there—day by day, rain by rain—wasn’t austerity. It was the slow cultivation of inner wealth.
Generosity in offering full attention to each act.
Patience in letting the robe dry on its own terms.
Discipline in getting up before dawn, even when no one else would know.
Joyful effort in showing up again and again.
Meditation as a thread through every breath.
Wisdom in remembering that none of this is separate.
The Path Opens Today
Today, I open the doors to Introduction to Triyana Meditation—a course grounded in Buddhist teachings but shaped for modern lives.
This isn’t just a course in technique. It’s an invitation to a meaningful way of being. This approach supports the gradual cultivation of clarity, stability, and compassion through steady practice.
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You don’t need to retreat to the mountains or strip down your life to bare essentials. You can start cultivating these timeless qualities where you are. These qualities are generosity, patience, stillness, compassion and joy. You can do this with the life you already have.
I created this course based on direct experience. I spent years in retreat and engaged in daily practice and philosophical studies. I have lived the teachings for decades in both seclusion and society. What I offer here is a pathway that’s simple, grounded, and possible to integrate in your every day life.
Doors are now open.
👉 Join the course here →
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Lama Chimey 