The Reverent Hands Story

After traveling in rural Tibet for two weeks, my trip ended with several days in Lhasa, the capital. There were numerous ‘must see’ landmarks, among them the most famous Tibetan temple, the Jokhang Palace. In my naiveté (Tibet was my first exotic foreign destination as a serious photographer) I imagined few westerners would be present. I could not have been more mistaken. There were dozens of faithful Buddhists sitting outside the temple praying and as many international photographers jockeying for their shot. There was time before my scheduled tour so I casually walked, looking for my vision, which eluded me. The subtle pandemonium of movement, chanting and smell of burning incense clouded my senses.

After the two hour tour, the entrance and exit proved to be the same, leaving me exactly where I started, the conditions unchanged. But time in the Buddhist temple had calmed my spirit, and photographs of the interior engaged creative insight. Back outside, I noticed a particular woman who hadn’t moved in the time I was gone. She was repeating the same mantra while repeating a ritual with beads and seeds, a grain offering to Buddha. Without consciously making the decision I was drawn to her hands and the ceremony of the offering. I chose a 50 mm lens to isolate her from the chaotic background and, moving respectfully in the confined space, knelt beside her. In the viewfinder I saw the essence of her faith in the character of her hands. The coarse texture of her skin and dirt under her thumbnail were those of a common Tibetan, yet her presence at the Jokhang Palace and the immersion in her prayer humbled me. I quietly tripped the shutter, the solemn moment irrevocably etched in my heart and mind. Pure reverence.