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Great
and
horrible
experiences
of
either
suffering
or
joy
occur
in
the
lives
of
all
these
people
,
just
as
with
the
rest
of
us
,
and
these
mega
-
experiences
tend
to
make
us
long
for
a
spiritual
context
in
which
to
express
either
lament
or
gratitude
,
or
to
seek
understanding
.
The
problem
is
-
what
to
worship
,
whom
to
pray
to
?
I
have
a
dear
friend
whose
first
child
was
born
right
after
his
beloved
mother
died
.
After
this
confluence
of
miracle
and
loss
,
my
friend
felt
a
desire
to
have
some
kind
of
sacred
place
to
go
,
or
some
ritual
to
perform
,
in
order
to
sort
through
all
the
emotion
.
My
friend
was
a
Catholic
by
upbringing
,
but
couldn
’
t
stomach
returning
to
the
church
as
an
adult
.
(
"
I
can
’
t
buy
it
anymore
,
"
he
said
,
"
knowing
what
I
know
.
"
)
Of
course
,
he
’
d
be
embarrassed
to
become
a
Hindu
or
a
Buddhist
or
something
wacky
like
that
.
So
what
could
he
do
?
As
he
told
me
,
"
You
don
’
t
want
to
go
cherry
-
picking
a
religion
.
"
Which
is
a
sentiment
I
completely
respect
except
for
the
fact
that
I
totally
disagree
.
I
think
you
have
every
right
to
cherry
-
pick
when
it
comes
to
moving
your
spirit
and
finding
peace
in
God
.
I
think
you
are
free
to
search
for
any
metaphor
whatsoever
which
will
take
you
across
the
worldly
divide
whenever
you
need
to
be
transported
or
comforted
.
It
’
s
nothing
to
be
embarrassed
about
.
It
’
s
the
history
of
mankind
’
s
search
for
holiness
.
If
humanity
never
evolved
in
its
exploration
of
the
divine
,
a
lot
of
us
would
still
be
worshipping
golden
Egyptian
statues
of
cats
.
And
this
evolution
of
religious
thinking
does
involve
a
fair
bit
of
cherry
-
picking
.
You
take
whatever
works
from
wherever
you
can
find
it
,
and
you
keep
moving
toward
the
light
.
The
Hopi
Indians
thought
that
the
world
’
s
religions
each
contained
one
spiritual
thread
,
and
that
these
threads
are
always
seeking
each
other
,
wanting
to
join
.
When
all
the
threads
are
finally
woven
together
they
will
form
a
rope
that
will
pull
us
out
of
this
dark
cycle
of
history
and
into
the
next
realm
.
More
contemporarily
,
the
Dalai
Lama
has
repeated
the
same
idea
,
assuring
his
Western
students
repeatedly
that
they
needn
’
t
become
Tibetan
Buddhists
in
order
to
be
his
pupils
.
He
welcomes
them
to
take
whatever
ideas
they
like
out
of
Tibetan
Buddhism
and
integrate
these
ideas
into
their
own
religious
practices
.
Even
in
the
most
unlikely
and
conservative
of
places
,
you
can
find
sometimes
this
glimmering
idea
that
God
might
be
bigger
than
our
limited
religious
doctrines
have
taught
us
.
In
1954
,
Pope
Pius
XI
,
of
all
people
,
sent
some
Vatican
delegates
on
a
trip
to
Libya
with
these
written
instructions
:
"
Do
NOT
think
that
you
are
going
among
Infidels
.
Muslims
attain
salvation
,
too
.
The
ways
of
Providence
are
infinite
"
But
doesn
’
t
that
make
sense
?
That
the
infinite
would
be
,
indeed
…
infinite
?
That
even
the
most
holy
amongst
us
would
only
be
able
to
see
scattered
pieces
of
the
eternal
picture
at
any
given
time
?
And
that
maybe
if
we
could
collect
those
pieces
and
compare
them
,
a
story
about
God
would
begin
to
emerge
that
resembles
and
includes
everyone
?
And
isn
’
t
our
individual
longing
for
transcendence
all
just
part
of
this
larger
human
search
for
divinity
?
Don
’
t
we
each
have
the
right
to
not
stop
seeking
until
we
get
as
close
to
the
source
of
wonder
as
possible
?
Even
if
it
means
coming
to
India
and
kissing
trees
in
the
moonlight
for
a
while
?
That
’
s
me
in
the
corner
,
in
other
words
.
That
’
s
me
in
the
spotlight
.
Choosing
my
religion
.
My
flight
leaves
India
at
four
in
the
morning
,
which
is
typical
of
how
India
works
.
I
decide
not
to
go
to
sleep
at
all
that
night
,
but
to
spend
the
whole
evening
in
one
of
the
meditation
caves
,
in
prayer
.
I
’
m
not
a
late
-
night
person
by
nature
,
but
something
in
me
wants
to
stay
awake
for
these
last
hours
at
the
Ashram
.
There
are
many
things
in
my
life
I
’
ve
stayed
up
all
night
to
do
-
to
make
love
,
to
argue
with
someone
,
to
drive
long
distances
,
to
dance
,
to
cry
,
to
worry
(
and
sometimes
all
those
things
,
in
fact
,
in
the
course
of
one
night
)
-
but
I
’
ve
never
sacrificed
sleep
for
a
night
of
exclusive
prayer
.
Why
not
now
?
I
pack
my
bag
and
leave
it
by
the
temple
gate
,
so
I
can
be
ready
to
grab
it
and
go
when
the
taxi
arrives
before
dawn
.
And
then
I
walk
up
the
hill
,
I
go
into
the
meditation
cave
and
I
sit
.
I
’
m
alone
in
there
,
but
I
sit
where
I
can
see
the
big
photograph
of
Swamiji
,
my
Guru
’
s
master
,
the
founder
of
this
Ashram
,
the
long
-
gone
lion
who
is
somehow
still
here
.
I
close
my
eyes
and
let
the
mantra
come
.
I
climb
down
that
ladder
into
my
own
hub
of
stillness
.
When
I
get
there
,
I
can
feel
the
world
halt
,
the
way
I
always
wanted
it
to
halt
when
I
was
nine
years
old
and
panicking
about
the
relentlessness
of
time
.
In
my
heart
,
the
clock
stops
and
the
calendar
pages
quit
flying
off
the
wall
.
I
sit
in
silent
wonder
at
all
I
understand
.
I
am
not
actively
praying
.
I
have
become
a
prayer
.
