Tales of a Global Pilgrim Stars Stars

My name is Ben Viatte and I'm just like you: I'm not quite sure how I got here.

My search started 12 years ago, at the age of 18, when I closed my eyes for the first time: I saw that I was free. I started travelling the world in search of a new mindset. My current pilgrimage has brought me on foot from Europe, through Northern asia, to Mother India. Here I am living in the Himalayas and learning Dharma - the path of happiness.

This blog describes my search for truth: my life travels since the start of my global pilgrimage in my 18's, and what I learnt from them.
Dharamshala, India. December 2023.

A Walk to Bodhgaya

I am on the brink of starting a journey beyond any I've done before. On the external level - the world of matter - it will be a 1700 kilometer walk, across India to Bodhgaya, the place where the Buddha reached enlightenment 2500 years ago. Not a big deal, you might say, but the pilgrimage will be without money, phone, or lodging other than some blankets to sleep under the stars. We call them Aranyavasi's - forest monks, living amongst the trees, delighting in the melodious symphony of exotic birds, monkeys and mosquitoes. One with nature and with the inner practices of awareness, meditation, and peace.

Which brings us to the second aspect of my trip - the world of mind. I will be putting together all the mindfulness I can conjure to follow the practice day and night. Not out of faith or religiousness, but pure scientific investigation of seeing where it will take me to dedicate my entire being to awareness and love, the two pillars of the Buddha's teachings.

Why those two, and what does awareness even have to do with love? Awareness leads to the wisdom of understanding we are not alone - so many beings, uncountable, are sharing the same wish to be happy and to be free from suffering. Going deeper, we realize there is no ego, no I and you and them. We are one with these beings and we all share the same wants and needs. This truth leads to infinite love: as much as we care and wish for our own happiness, we care and wish for the happiness of all. Hurray!

I'm not saying I'm there yet, but I like the gist of it.

So I will be one with all of you but not with my phone, and this is my last online presence in 3 months. Please forgive me in advance! And in the mean time I wish you a Merry Christmas full of gratitude and cake and love and a new beginning aglow with awareness.

A talk on meditation with a Buddhist Monk

I was volunteering at a Vipassana meditation retreat center when I had the honor to meet Dr. Bhadanta SR Indavansa Mahathero, a Theravada Buddhist who devotes himself to helping the world by sharing the Dharma.

Dharma? You will see this word come up a lot in Indian teachings. What does it mean? Dharma simply means the path of peace, the path of lasting happiness, free from all forms of suffering and stress. Dharma does not belong to one sect, tradition, country, or religion. Every path leading to true inner peace, freedom from negativity, is Dharma.

The Buddha dedicated his life to teaching Dharma in order to help as many beings as possible reach real happiness, sometimes called Nirvana or enlightenment. Many others have taught Dharma too, like Patanjali in the Yogic tradition, or Lao Zi in the Chinese tradition. Lao Zi called it Tao, the Chinese word for Dharma, which simply means the path.

May the dharma help you be peaceful, may you be happy, may you lead lives motivated by love and awareness. Om.

Dharamshala, India. September 2022

The Dalai Lama's boundless heart

I had been dreaming of meeting him for so long... For 6 years actually, ever since I started the walk to India. Do you remember that the final destination of the pilgrimage, since the beginning, was Dharamshala?

This small town in the Indian Himalayas is the residence of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, and I would have loved to come straight up to his door and say hi, after all that walking. But it turns out I arrived in the middle of Covid, and there was no way anyone could even hope to meet him. I decided to be patient, and settled down in this lovely Tibetan town of monks, monkeys, peace, and Dharma.

It took a whole 2 years before the opportunity finally showed itself: it seemed Covid rules had relaxed enough for me to take my chances. So I spent three days writing the fanciest letter in my life, including a hand-drawn map of my walking trip, photos, tibetan calligraphy, and a short biography of my pilgrimage. We could call it a love letter. I love the Dalai Lama as much as love can fathom: he is a role model for peace in the world, he radiates light and wisdom in every direction, and even after growing up with greater hardship than most of us can possibly imagine - a country torn apart by invasion and genocide - he holds true to his values: with his boundless heart he loves everyone in the world, without exception.

His Holiness and his office the Gaden Phodran really liked the letter, so much that they gave me an appointment within a week - which happened to be exactly on the date Mom and Yehudith would arrive in Dharamshala from Switzerland. So it came to be... that we all ended up face to face with him. Even forehead to forehead, as he affectionately embraced us by pulling us towards him. His words were direct, gentle, loving, clear... and so humble. One of the most esteemed figures in the world with one of the most humble souls. So humble that he brought my own hand to his forehead and started by saying "Thank you. Thank you..."

I couldn't believe he was thanking me. Hey, I should have been thanking him! But we could feel he was really touched by my story... He went on to say "You, me, the same. We are human. You have to tell all humanity... Keep doing what you're doing ...and the environment. 7 billion... you are one..."

A minute went by, in wonder, in peace... and he finished with "...and peace. Inner peace."

All that was beautiful. So beautiful... but words have very little significance beside to the depth of his presence, which pervaded our beings with joy, hope, and warmth. This was not a verbal exchange but a blessing from the beyond... They say the 14 Dalai Lamas were consecutive reincarnations of Avalokiteshvara, the Buddha of compassion, who could've chose to stay in the heavenly abodes, to chill out for eternity and enjoy the infinite bliss of Nirvana, but instead decides to come back on this earth as a human being again and again in order to help all sentient beings find their own way to the celestial party.

His Holiness went on to bless and connect with my Mom, then Yehudith, and finally gifted us a weighty yet intricate brass statue of Tara, the female Buddha of compassionate action.

We were in shock, we were in awe... My whole being was melting and this marked the end of a 6-year chapter in my life: here it was, here was completion point, here was the real arrival, at the real destination... His Holiness' blessings.

So... what makes happiness?

A fine balance between material comfort, physical health, financial stability, political safety, family life, and livelihood all carefully equalized on God's turntable?

A simple but universal question that Yi and I naively set out to answer as we left our homes in the Indian Himalayas with exactly... none of those things. No money or bank card, no phone and not much at all really, other than a tarp to sleep under, a set of orange robes, and the stubborn determination to make it entirely on foot to the world's largest Hindu gathering, 500 km away. Named the Kumbha Mela, it's known to reunite the worlds most revered Babas and wildest Sadhus who have been embracing simplicity and homelessness themselves since the beginning of time.

If you like the story, I'm also pretty excited to announce I wrote a book that you can find here on Amazon. It's a day-by-day rendering of the hand-written journal I carried with me all along, spending an hour on it every evening to make sure I kept every detail: the experience was so valuable I felt it was my part to share it with you.

Haridwar, India. April 2021

The Walk to Kumbha Mela

Dear you, dear me, dear us as one, Ommmmm. We are one.

I may appear distant. I may appear to take months answering your messages. All you beloved friends who make the essence of life... I'm not too distant actually: we are one. And on top of being one, I am online again, after two months of phonelessness, netlessness, and Yogic connectedness. Back from the trip to Kumbha Mela, this sacred Hindu gathering that can't be described in words.

The trip there and back was 1000 km on foot. Not that big a deal... But what was life-changing was how it was done. We had never been moneyless for very long before... We had never taken the orange robes and abandoned the layperson's life to go into monkhood. That's what we were. Yi and I were wandering monks. And the fact it was temporary rather than a commitment for life didn't hinder the experience in the least: in fact, it enhanced both sides. Spirituality can't be separated from the material world - they are both expressions of truth.

Thinking they are separate is like thinking you need to be a hermit in a cave in order to find happiness or truth. Truth is everywhere, love is everywhere, in every one of our activities, in every lifestyle, in every rupee, in every smile, in every step of every path, in every breath. So don't forget to breathe. Sit down, breathe and feel the breath. It is our guide, always with us.

Love was in every one of the people who invited us along the road, from all scopes of life. Absolutely everything was given to us. Food, lodging, clothing, money, spiritual guidance, caring company, so many chai's we couldn't count, nights in temples, in ascetic Baba tents, in family homes that took us like their children, in smooth-rock river settings or forested havens under the moon, in the womb of mother nature.

We left with nothing and came back with everything.

Towards all of you reading this, Yi and I would like to express our deepest thanks. We owe it to you, we owe it to the world. You are the source of our happiness. Thank you.

Dharamshala, India. February 2021

Our first steps as Sadhus

After 6 months of sedentary life in the town of Dharamshala, northern India, I'm finally taking the road again. Or, to be exact, both of us are taking the road, and in a quite a different way then my experiences so far.

It's only 500 km to Haridwar, where the Kumbha Mela is being hosted. The largest Hindu gathering in the world... sometimes proclamed as the largest human gathering altogether. Quite an event. We know the destination will be memorable. But the trip there, maybe even more so: we're leaving home without a rupee, without any type of bank card, without a phone, and without anything more than what we can fit inside our humble bag - paper maps, water bottles, a blanket or two, a floor mat, an almsbowl...

Leaving without money means living off whatever is given to us. We may call it blind faith in karma, blind trust in the universe: I believe we'll get what we deserve. If we go hungry, we deserve to go hungry. If we get showered in offerings, we deserve a shower of offerings.

Yi and I, two momentary wandering ascetics, or Sadhus as we would call them in India, experimenting a lifestyle where instead of material gain, every breath, every step, is dedicated to awareness. Simple present moment awareness.

So if you are reading this message, first of all thank you friend, and second, please take an instant, however brief, to sink your shoulders, settle your spine, relax your gaze, and feel your breath... Let it flow in pure awareness and see how long it lasts...

Dharamshala, India. October 2020

Tibetan Abode

Clouds of heavenly dew! Tears of joy! Buckets of fortune! Oxcarts of delight! Sacks of godliness! Treefulls of merry monkeys fill my uplifted heart! And meager metaphors fill my attempted introduction, but no language can come close to describing the blessed fortune I've been granted by the world.

I've reached the goal. Dharamshala, or specifically Mcleod Ganj, home to His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile. Countless monasteries of monks and nun who have graciously been given a new homeland by India after having risked their lives to escape Chinese prosecution.

Dharamshala has been the intended destination of my 4-year walk since day 1. It literally means school of Dharma, school of spirituality. So the next phase in my practice, after the longest walk, will be the longest sitting: learning to settle myself down, to challenge this nomadic spirit for the time being and stay put until my knowledge of Tibetan language, culture, and Dharma is sufficient to have a clear and comprehensive view on this wonderful path they call Mahayana.

Mahayana can be translated as the big boat. The idea is to build a ship large enough to take any being who wishes for happiness across the oceans of suffering. And actually, all beings wish for happiness. It's gonna be a pretty big boat. As big as the hearts of the sages who conjured such beautiful intentions. I think it's cool.

Dear world that I love. World undergoing a remarkable period of change.

My arrival into India, into a new chapter of my existence, was synchronized with the world's arrival into a new era. Can I be grateful enough for how these 4 years aligned? 14'000 km, 18 countries, and every step of the way seemed planned by the gods, every border crossing, every offroad, every space to set camp, every gift and human encounter. Every moment of raw aloneness, of endlessly vast spaces that have reset my mind and brought me experiences I hadn't even dared to dream of.

May I spend the rest of my existence in thankfulness. My path to the Indian Himalayas is soon to be complete, where I can dedicate my time to serving, learning and supporting the practices that lead to a better life and a peaceful earth.

Waggah border, Pakistan-India. February 2020


The border crossing was overwhelming. I fell into pieces at the wonder of actually being here. That line I had been dreaming of for 4 years, and always seemed to be more of a dream than anything else. Mother India... I hardly ever believed I would get there! But the world aligned for me. And did I really do anything? Let's hear it for the world!


Peace through Islam

It's been 5 months and it's been a lifetime. I am home. Every Pakistani dwelling is my dwelling, every man my brother, every kid running the streets my son, my daughter, my friend, but also my host. Yes, this culture has no age for hospitality. In no other country have I been been offered food by a 10-year old saying "it's on me, brother!"

But it was also a thrill, an unforgettable quest to cross the forbidden areas where I am told religious conflict lurks, areas controlled by the army and long closed to tourism. To my surprise I was given the greatest of honors and my mission for peace was revered by the authorities: they did everything to make my walk possible, providing men to escort me for a whole 18 days until I had crossed Chillas, Kohistan, and the entire region of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. Which, I might add, was of ethereal natural beauty.

It also meant 18 days of constant hospitality: being lodged, fed, and taken care of in every way, given a bed in police stations during the night and being invited to meals throughout the day. Now that being complete as well as my crossing of Pakistan, here I am in the city of Lahore, just kilometers away from the Indian border. India, the destination of this 4-year walk: my mission is on the brink of being fulfilled.

Northern Pakistan, December 2019


I didn’t know anything about Northern Pakistan. I didn’t know anything about anything Pakistan, really. And without actually going there, the misinformation many people get is some conservative Taliban-ridden country landlocked between Afghani terrorism and nuclear war threats with India. Luckily enough, I don’t dig that kind of news, so I stepped in with an open heart and open arms, ready to experience this thrilling new land first-hand.

In my arms came nothing less than paradise. The scenery, the people, the religion, the vibration in the air… every facet – paradise. I made my way from China through Khunjerab Pass – the highest international border crossing in the world – down to Hunza Valley, a place renowned for its peace-loving Ismaelis, so caring they wouldn’t hurt an ant, I swear! I fell in love with Hunza and stayed 2 months in one village – that’s as long as my visa would let me. Yes, the bureaucratic clock is ticking and I’m counting my precious days in this blessed land, how long can I settle down and how long do I need to walk the remainder of my way to India. So that led me to the current city of Gilgit, which I’ll have to leave quite soon as well.

So 3 months it’s been, a hundred villages, a thousand gleaming faces and even more cups of chai… yet it’s still paradise. Having camped all over the place, climbed all kinds of mountains, met people from every social class, background, and religious group, I now confirm with fervent conviction: the people are good! Nothing but good! Masha’allah!