Mount Kailash is a mountain with a closing date. I was told by a guide, who we’ll come back to later, that the pilgrims’ trail shuts on 20 October. Snow and safety concerns can be considered the “bouncers” at the “velvet rope” of the mountain. But from a spiritual perspective, this whole Horse Year window has been a mega sacred portal, open only once every twelve years. . . wide open for every Vajrayana devotee setting out on the kora.
Tradition tells us that one lap around the mountain can wash away a lifetime of karma; ten laps clear many future obstacles; and 108 bring profound purification.
Isn’t it fascinating how pilgrims arrive in two very different moods? Some are lifelong disciples, steady practitioners whose feet know every stone on this path. Others simply heard about its extraordinary energy and showed up, hoping to have some of that mountain magic rub off on them. They’re curious and open, but not yet awake.
So what catalyst opens the ways for the uninitiated?
I recall reading what James Redfield wrote in The Secret of Shambhala. In the book, the lead character Wil meets a dakini in Tibet who will point him toward an unexpected, different direction in his life. “The dakini are beings who awaken and protect humans.” And that quiet, unforgettable line: “The dakini have to open the gate.”
You can stretch your energy field as wide as you like; you can read every scripture, plan every pilgrimage, or push yourself as hard as you want. Physically standing at the holy site doesn’t automatically unlock your way to enter the portal. The outer gate may be open, but the inner gate? Only the dakini can open it.
I believe my dakini came in human form. He was that guide I mentioned, who opened that portal for me years ago, when he first led me toward the sacred land of snows. But this week? He’s walking the kora at Kailash. Not guiding tourists, not running errands—but walking quietly, as a pilgrim. It feels almost as though he is the one gently closing Kailash’s spiritual gate now, protecting its vibration purity, and preserving its magic behind closed doors until next year’s portal reopens.
Wil’s note in Redfield’s book whispers: “You know the dakini will guide you.” I used to think guidance meant grand visions. Now I see it differently. Sometimes it’s a person who shows up, stays humble, accumulates quiet merit, and reminds you: awakening is not something the mountain just hands you. It’s something you receive only when someone with dakini-like presence opens the gate.
The trail closed on 20 October. But the mountain does not disappear. It simply rests. And so do we—until the portal calls again. So, as Kailash pulls its velvet rope and we return to our beautifully ordinary lives, I couldn’t help but wonder: if the outer gate is closing, which inner gate are you still waiting for a dakini to open?