IT WAS DURING A VISIT TO NEW YORK that I stumbled upon Rinpoche’s book In Love with the World, and I instantly knew that this was the book I was supposed to read.

I had done a few meditation courses and retreats before, but I still felt a sense of emptiness. Not the way Buddhists look at the term emptiness, but a deep feeling of senselessness and longing at the same time.

This book spoke to me because it promised adventure — not just theory.

I’ve always been drawn to adventure, travels that go beyond the known routes. I was looking for unmarked paths that would teach me something new and throw me out of everything I knew.

As a journalist, I had travelled all over Eastern Europe, recorded stories about war, loss, and overcoming hardship and pain. I was driven by giving a voice to people who usually remained unheard and an unstoppable desire to fight for justice and peace.

At the same time, I had lost more and more of my own voice, a deeper connection to myself, and an inner state of peace. I had been running after the idea that I could change the world. To make it more just, peaceful and loving.

During the trip to the United States, I realized that it had left me burnt out, restless, and frustrated. It felt like I had been on an impossible mission that I wasn’t ready to fully give up yet. But I felt open to try a new path. One that would lead me inside.

My favorite book was Into the Wild by John Krakauer. I had read it as a teenager during a year abroad in the US, and despite the tragic ending of the book, it had left me with a secret plan: to one day leave everything behind and embark on a journey into the unknown.

Now I was back in the US, Rinpoche’s book had a similar effect. I read it in a few days, not fully grasping the concept of the bardos but inspired by the courage of this monk who had actually done it: given up his worldly possessions and reputation to find truth.

The fact that he, unlike the protagonist of Into the Wild, did not die but was reborn left me stunned and curious about what awaits us after physical death.

At the same time, I understood: maybe going on a journey of self-exploration meant going deeper inside. And maybe there was no need to go to extremes and experience physical death to feel alive.

But there was more. Rinpoche’s honest and vivid descriptions of the anxiety and panic he experienced as a young child brought back memories of my own fearfulness as a child, but also the terror that I was still experiencing from time to time as a young adult.

I felt a deep compassion and gratitude for this monk, who seemed so deeply human. The book gave me hope and showed me that my fears and insecurities weren’t something I had to overcome but could maybe serve me as a tool for my awakening and growth.

When I saw that Rinpoche was coming to Germany for an in-person retreat in 2019, I signed up without hesitation. It was an incredible experience in which, for the first time, I didn’t feel so alone in my seeking but was embraced by a community of wonderful and compassionate people.

At that time, I wasn’t aware, but this retreat marked a turning point in my life. Although looking back, I feel like I was completely unconscious when shaking Rinpoche’s hand, I can say today that it was some kind of initiation that pushed me further on my path.

I left the retreat with tears of joy. A joy that I had never experienced in my life. And it had planted another seed inside me: a dream of one day going to Nepal and discovering the place and surroundings where this inspiring monk grew up.

Five years later, after I had gone through an earthquake in my personal life that had stripped me of everything that I thought defined me as a person, and after witnessing the death of my father, I bought a one-way ticket to Nepal.

This trip was full of surprises, new lessons, and miracles in such a way that I had even forgotten about Rinpoche — or at least I tried. Ironically, during this travel, I realized that meditation was not a way to avoid life but to go deeper.

Before, I had used the practice to run away and escape the disappointments and pain of this world; for the first time in some years, I was in love with my human form, with all its flaws, sufferings, and potential. I finally understood what “in love with the world” was all about.

Just before my visa was about to run out, in March 2025, I jumped on a night bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu to attend a Puja retreat at Osel Ling Monastery in the presence of Rinpoche. I arrived with hesitation and fear of disappointment.

After all, it was his retreat that had brought me all the way to Nepal.

In the end, it was a great reminder. I left not only with more tears of joy but with the same feeling of innocence and curiosity that I had felt during my first retreat. And on top of that, with a deeper commitment, I decided to take refuge in the dharma and received the Tibetan name “Nima,” meaning “the Sun.”

No, life hasn’t become easier since then, rather the opposite. But I have found a new kind of trust in the chaos and changing nature of this world. Through all the challenges and obstacles, I have found my inner sun and decided to use it to shine on everyone and everything.

In August this year, I was volunteering in Central Portugal and heard that Rinpoche was about to open a retreat center very close to where I was staying. I was stunned that our paths crossed again and delighted to experience the power of community once more at the opening celebration of the Podentes Retreat Center.

Rinpoche’s teachings are my daily companion, guide, and friend, which navigate me through this miracle of life, and I’m deeply grateful to have had the chance to receive them from him in person.

March 2026