Bhutan's Symphony of Harmony Changed My Perspective on Life
A different kind of vacation helped show me what truly matters
I'm gripping the armrest tightly as I take deep, calming breaths. I have been on hundreds of flights, experienced severe turbulence countless times, and even an aborted landing, but I have never been this nervous. The person next to me is wearing a colorful robe, and I am temporarily distracted by its intricate patterns until he leans across and reminds me we are attempting to land at one of the most dangerous airports in the world. My leg resumes its relentless shaking, and a bead of sweat drips onto my pants. At least the jet engine's roar drowns out the telltale thudding in my chest.
Despite his beaming smile, I can't help but be nervous. Only twenty-four pilots in the world are allowed to land on what many describe as 'the world's toughest runway,' — Paro, the only airport in the mountainous country of Bhutan. Its location in a valley surrounded by 18,000-foot mountain peaks makes for a nerve-wracking arrival.
My robed seatmate finally senses my nerves and tells me he has made this journey many times, and we are safe in the hands of an experienced pilot. He urges me to relax and enjoy the view. His timing is perfect, as the pilot advises us to look to the left, where we are treated to postcard views of Mount Everest.
Passengers take out their iPhones, and Instagram-worthy photos are taken. I soon forget my fears and begin snapping photos. Once past Everest, we make a series of sharp twists and turns, descending through the mountains and into Paro Valley. It feels like an AI computer simulation, with the picturesque landscape and Top Gun maneuvers.
There are sighs of relief, mine perhaps the loudest, when we land safely. We have entered the Kingdom of Happiness, and my life will change.
Happiness is next to Godliness
Bhutan isn't on many tourists' radar; it's expensive and difficult to get to. Visas are required to enter, and the government enforces minimum spending to help maintain and protect the tourism industry.
In the late 1970s, King Jigme Singye Wangchuck said, "Gross National Happiness is more important than Gross Domestic Product," influencing Bhutan's development policy.
Bhutan's critical Key Performance Indicator is Gross National Happiness — based on four pillars:
Sustainable and Equitable Socio-Economic Development
Good Governance
Preservation and Promotion of Culture
Environmental Conservation
Bhutan charges a Sustainable Development Fee (SDF) as part of its high-value, low-volume tourism strategy — when I visited, it was USD 200 per day. I usually hate hefty fees imposed on tourists, but in this case, I believe it is worth it. Over the next few days, the constant message of happiness, health, and people is reinforced, and I feel a slow transformation overcoming me.
The land of smiles
Within minutes of getting through immigration and customs, the hospitable nature of the Bhutanese is on show. My mandated minimum spend includes a personal guide and driver, but I can't find either.
A friendly local approaches me. I am wary of locals waiting at airport arrivals as there are so many scams aimed at defrauding naive and jetlagged tourists. Many tales of transport and accommodation offers and free guides end in disaster.
In perfect English, the man asks if I need help. He calls my guide, tells him where I am, and waits for him to arrive. He never tried to sell me something; his sole aim was to make my first introduction to a local a positive experience.
As we wait, I am struck by the peace. Airports are usually a din of noise, cars honking, tour groups spilling over sidewalks, cries of “taxi, taxi,” and large buses taking up space. All of this is absent. It almost feels like someone has pressed a mute button, and the scene before me unfolds silently.
Soon, my guide Kahar arrives. He is a short man wearing the traditional Bhutanese male Gho, a knee-length cloth tied at the waist with a cloth belt known as the Kera. He apologizes for being late, but I soon realize no one in Bhutan is in a hurry—and there seems to be a reason.
Don't worry
Leaving the airport, the first road sign I see is a billboard stating, "No worry, no hurry." It is the first of many such messages. In Bhutan, I see no advertising billboards but rather what seems to be a series of positive affirmations. There is also an absence of traffic lights —a traffic light was installed in the capital of Thimpu but removed after just 24 hours, and now there are none in the entire company.
It's like driving along a Road of Motivation with Tony Robbins scripted messages. The maximum speed in Bhutan is 50 kilometers (approximately 30 miles) per hour, allowing ample time to read the signs.
"If a flower doesn't grow, you change the environment, not the flower."
"Be responsible. Don't hurt animals. You'll be repaid with good Karma."
There are only 75,000 cars in Bhutan, a country the size of Switzerland, so there is no traffic, and the drive is relaxing. Even with no traffic and no need to rush, there are signs telling people to take it easy.
"Bro. Be Mr. Late and not Late Mr," reads one.
I chuckle as I see it. The stress I felt during my harrowing flight is melting away quickly. Along with the government messages, I see banners depicting a handsome man in his forties. Kahar says they're pictures of the King.
"Is he popular?" I ask.
"Of course! He is the people's King. He meets us. He walks among us. He married a regular person."
Kahar tells me that when the King's first child was born in 2016, the country celebrated by planting tens of thousands of trees, which is a nationwide example of its environmental philosophy. The whole population does practice what they preach.
The circle of life
In Thimphu, we visit the National Memorial Chorten — the focus of daily worship for many locals. Surrounding the Tibetan-style stupa are groups of older adults eating or ambling laps around the stupa.
I'm surprised to see so many people here on a weekday, but Kahar tells me everyone in Bhutan must retire at sixty. There are no exceptions; even the previous King, aged sixty, retired to let his son rule. I'm sure King Charles wishes his mother had followed a similar policy.
The temple grounds are full of retirees who visit to socialize and pray. It's considered good luck to walk around the temple, praying and making wishes, and groups of people slowly stroll around it. They all seem happy, and soon, Kahar and I join them, spending the next couple of hours walking in circles.
For many people, a vacation often involves rushing from an airport to an Uber to a (insert tourist attraction here) to a dinner reservation to a tour while checking your phone and posting updates to social media. I'll admit I'm often the same.
I never thought walking around a temple discussing life and philosophy for a few hours would be the highlight of a vacation. I had no phone service, which helped, but I wanted to understand life better here. A life that wasn't focused on money or status or ticking items off a bucket list.
In Bhutan, the focus is on family and living without stress. Kahar tells me the most important things are prayer and reflection. I'm not a religious person by any stretch, but I can see firsthand the benefits of these beliefs.
The sport of kings
Bhutanese people are never in a rush and take their time to enjoy life; perhaps this is best reflected in its national sport, archery, which is often played over two days at a leisurely pace.
The national ethos even spills over into archery. While the competition is intense and there is a lot of banter, there is camaraderie amongst all the participants. Often, teams employ astrologers to select competing members.
I'm surprised to see when an archer hits a target, the game is paused, and the scoring team forms a circle and breaks into a folk song, accompanied by a dance. There are no over-the-top celebrations, as seen for touchdowns or soccer goals, but rather a team karaoke session.
I watched several games during my time in Bhutan, and on one occasion, Kahar asked if I would like to join him. Given that my skills in both archery and Bhutanese folk singing are poor, I passed up the opportunity, but I do enjoy the hours sitting in the countryside watching. It feels meditative.
Bucket list
My time in Bhutan was not all quiet introspection. I did have one bucket list item to complete: hiking to see Tiger's Nest Monastery. Also known as Paro Taktsang, this temple complex was built in 1692 and hangs on a precarious cliff at 3,120 meters above sea level. The hike starts in Paro Valley and takes, on average, five hours.
Although it was the end of winter, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and on the morning of our hike, Kahar looked to the mountains and shook his head.
"Snow", he says forlornly. "If it doesn't clear, climbing will be too dangerous."
My heart sank. I was so close. In the land of temples and prayer flags, I suggested we pray to all the Gods that the snow would pass. Kehar smiled. "I hope it works," he said.
Silently, we drove to the beginning of the trek. We walked past several vendors selling souvenirs and walking sticks for hire. After just a few hundred meters, I was puffing. Although reasonably fit, the ascent was steep, and the air seemed thin. We couldn't see Tigers Nest, and I wondered if it was worth the effort. Kahar coaxed me along, "You are going very fast. So fit. Let me know if you need to rest. But you are a fit man."
At the halfway point was a café where hikers could regain their breath and enjoy a tea or coffee while admiring views of Tigers Nest across the valley. Such rest spots are located across Bhutan, and the government provides complimentary tea, coffee, and biscuits where visitors can relax and enjoy the views. It was a pleasant surprise, not only for the free hot beverages but also because people were talking to each other and taking in the views at each of these cafes. Not one person was aimlessly scrolling their phones. I asked the man who brought me tea if he expected the fog to lift and reveal the beauty underneath. He shook his head. "Snow." I merely nodded.
Several cups of tea later, we decided to continue. Kahar took me aside. "I promise you, as a guide, you will see Tigers Nest. Do not worry; I am confident."Not only was he a personal trainer, but he was now also a motivational speaker.
The second half of the climb seemed more manageable, and we progressed well. The path was flatter, and my lungs were adapting to the altitude. Occasionally, we would pass other groups, exchange pleasantries, and comment on the weather.
Finally, we turned a corner to a hidden viewpoint, and there it was - Tiger's Nest. I was elated and put my arm around Kahar, who was smiling. "I promised you. A guide never disappoints his clients."
I want to think our time walking around the temple helped, or maybe it was Kahar's positive mindset.
The unexpected twist
The Bhutanese landscape is covered in brightly colored prayer flags fluttering in the breeze. The flags comprise five colors — blue, red, green, white, and yellow- each representing Buddhism's five wisdoms and the five essential elements — sky, fire, earth, water, and air. Buddhists believe that keeping these five elements in harmony is good for the body and mind.
Spending a week there, I agree. A sense of harmony is exuded throughout the country, and Bhutan sets an excellent example for the rest of the world. The week there helped me change my mindset and think about what I wanted out of life.
A few weeks after returning from Bhutan, I decided to sell my business and focus on my true passion in life — writing. It was a big decision and one I made after serious reflection. But seeing the inner peace of people who focused more on health and happiness than bank accounts and assets made me realize I should do the same.
Four years later, it was the best decision I've ever made. I try to rush less, focus on my surroundings more, and be more meaningful. As I type this on my patio, I have relaxing tunes playing on my AirPods and a smile on my face. I think back to the archers' joy or the temple's peaceful laps with Kahar and feel a wave of calmness that even a descent into the Paro Valley couldn't disturb.
The Bhutanese have figured life out; we should all measure our happiness instead of our bank balance.
Thanks for reading. If you liked this, check out my newly released book, Unforgettable Encounter. It's full of great business, marketing, and human interest stories.