it’s not a rare occurrence that I wish for a life more stable. a paycheck that matches the previous one, some nice things like a hanging decorative that holds both your out-going mail and your keys. a group of work pals that all share drinks and gripes on friday afternoons, things like this.

I think about this a lot.

but then, I wake up to an email of a friend having a spare ticket to see the world’s most spiritual guide and am able to drive out to long beach to take her up on the offer.

and then I stop thinking a lot about that.

I’m not bragging here, as all of my travels seem to be byproducts of generous people, but I’ve come shoulder-to-shoulder with the [previous] Pope in the Vatican. I’ve wailed at the Wall in Jerusalem, bathed [albetit, quickly] in the Ganges and have thrown offerings into the holiest volcano in Indonesia.

these things are brought up for boast by any means, only to say I’ve been lucky enough to share space with some intense spiritual energy.

but all of those combined pale in comparison to watching the Dalai Lama climb down from his perch, a perch he spoke to the thousands of us today, and reach out his hand to the young monks who for so many dawns asked him for help.

you can say what you want to about religion, about Christianity or Islam. about virgins in Heaven or a lesser-attractive St. Peter. there might be coins to help you cross that river of limbo or they might be used to feed the cows you don’t dare eat.

say what you want. believe what you want. pray to what you want. and ask things from them.

but there’s no denying the energy that this man brings to the world.

we all walked out giddy, a line formed not from a bottleneck, but from everyone letting everyone else in front of them on the escalator.

a reminder, if nothing else, that we’re all sons of Abraham – and that loving your neighbor is good. but loving 1000 of your neighbors is better.

‘pray to the God you want’ he said.

and for a brief moment, each person uncomfortable quasi-kneeling in their chairs, or some of us on the hard concrete, we did.

and for that brief moment we were comforted.

so think very carefully about what punishment lies.

and consider with all sincerity the jealousy that supposedly abides.

in a God, or many.

who wouldn’t want you to be reminded.

cause theirs has no hair and mine had a lot.

but when you’re closing your eyes,

it’s hard to differ.