Every January 1, I undertake the steep climb of 365 steps leading to the base of Swayambhunath, the Buddhist sanctuary overlooking Kathmandu. There, I meet Ani Andrea, an American who arrived during the hippie era and has since lived in a nearby monastery. To start the year, she invites monks and friends to consecrate new prayer flags, which are then attached to the top of the stupa—a dome-shaped architectural structure characteristic of Buddhism—where they gracefully flutter in the sky.

Swayambhunath—”the Lord Born of Himself”—is one of Nepal's iconic sites. Its origin dates back to immemorial times when a vast lake covered the present-day city. One day, a lotus appeared, holding an eternal flame. Warned in a dream, the bodhisattva Manjusri (a Buddha who renounces the enjoyment of enlightenment to remain in the world and help others attain awakening) came to admire the celestial flower. Using his fiery sword, he cut through the gorge of Chobar, south of Kathmandu, draining the waters to the southern plains and leaving behind the fertile Himalayan valley dominated by the hill where, in the 5th century, the Licchavi rulers built the famous stupa.

Swayambhunath is the holiest pilgrimage site for the Newar Buddhists—the predominant ethnic group of Kathmandu—who walk around it daily. In spring, during the full moon of Baisakh, a month of the Hindu calendar that corresponds to April/May, which commemorates the birth, enlightenment, and great departure of Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, impressive crowds flock to this site. During the spiritual retreat in the month of Gunla (which corresponds to August), amid the summer monsoon, devotees ascend in the morning, accompanied by enthusiastic young musicians.

A striking fervor and majesty

The fervor of prayers and the monument's majesty are striking. Above all, an indescribable peace emanates from the Buddha’s eyes painted on the four cardinal directions of the stupa, whose compassionate gaze envelopes Kathmandu in benevolent protection. To strengthen this guardianship over the city, the five Dhyani Buddhas—ubiquitous in the mystical geography of the “Great Vehicle”—are depicted: Akshobhya, “the unshakable,” facing east; Ratnasambhava, “born of the jewel,” to the south; Amitabha, “infinite light,” to the west; Amoghasiddhi, “infallible accomplishment,” to the north; and Vairochana, “the radiant,” at the center. Each of these “meditation Buddhas” is associated with one of the colors of the prayer flags: blue, yellow, red, green, and white.

Everything in the stupa’s architecture, from the dome’s base to the spire’s 13 pinnacles, speaks of the ascent toward enlightenment through the twin wings of wisdom and compassion—virtues that the faithful seek to fully embody. In silence, I join their processions, recalling a few verses from Shantideva’s Bodhicharyavatara (The Way of the Bodhisattva), so cherished by the Dalai Lama:

“By the merit I have accumulated through this practice, may the suffering of all beings be dispelled. May I be the protector of those who have no protector, the guide for those who are on the journey, The boat, the ship, and the bridge for those who wish to reach the other shore! May I provide for the needs of all beings, in all realms, at all times, Until all beings are liberated and attain the state of Buddhahood!”