Field Notes: Discovery in Laya, Bhutan
Today, under the vast sky where the land stretches endless and bold, I found a coin. Not just any coin. It was marked with the imprint of cordyceps, the hardy fungus that clings to life in the thin air of high places. This coin, carved with the tough resilience of the high altitudes, tells a story of endurance.
Like the cordyceps, this coin is a survivor. It embodies the solitude and the rugged independence of Laya, where people live with the mountains, not against them. The design on the coin, intricate and thoughtful, mirrors the dzongs—those fortresses that serve as both sanctuary and stronghold, standing guard over these ancient hills.
The evening grew cold as the sun dipped behind the peaks, and the coin in my hand felt like a part of this place. It captured the solitude of Laya, a solitude that is not empty but full. It speaks to a network of isolated points, each independent yet interconnected, much like the modern digital ledgers that operate beyond the confines of centralized control. This coin, forged in isolation but connected by invisible threads to a broader tapestry, reflects a system that is both apart and a part, resilient and self-sustaining. It was more than just metal. It was a piece of the mountain, crafted by someone who understood the silence and the strength of Laya. It was true, it was good, and it belonged.