A few summers ago, I had the privilege of spending a few days with Tibetan Buddhist monks at Camp Chesterfield. The experience met and exceeded my expectations.

Sipping tea with these gentle monks was fun. Or should I say `funny'? By sitting close to those guys, I came really close to cracking up with laughter. I was not the only American who felt that way. Others were talking about the hilarious vibe that the Tibetans emitted.

The main project for the monks was a six-foot sand mandala. They intensely and meticulously hammered colored sand through metal tubes. The mandala became brighter and more beautiful day-by-day.

At some point during the retreat, my host (Jan Martinez) told me of the eventual fate of the mandala. On the last day of the retreat, the mandala would be wiped out and ceremoniously dumped in the river. This would be a celebration of Impermanence.

I found this upsetting at first. I guess I had become attached to the monks' exquisite art project.

By the last day, I was looking forward to the ceremony. The monks were focused and serious during the ritual, but afterwards very lighthearted. And, to me, the lightheartedness of the monks is what will remain most permanent.