I stumbled across a real-life Spectacular Spectacular in India, from January 23-27! It’s more formally known as the Jaipur Literary Festival — also dubbed “The Greatest Literary Show on Earth” and a “sumptuous feast of ideas.” My travel guidebook says it’s the “world’s biggest free literary festival.”
“A mother, when her baby is crying, picks her up and holds her tenderly in her arms,” says Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh. “Your suffering is your baby. Your pain and anxiety is your baby. You have to take care of her. You have to go back to yourself, to recognize the suffering in you. You have to be kind and gentle to yourself.”
I found out what I already suspected: I’m exactly halfway to my death date. That’s why I’m going on a spiritual pilgrimage to Nepal and India! I want to wander God’s earth, reflect on my past and wonder about the future. I want to heal. I want to be a healing presence. I want to die knowing I followed Jesus all the way home.
Sometimes waiting is good and healthy — a time of preparation and anticipation. But sometimes waiting is an excuse to passively accept a hopeless situation or life of quiet desperation. We say we’re waiting and even praying, but we’re really just stuck.
She’s wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat, the lady sitting next to me. A tweed coat all buttoned up and a fuzzy pink scarf. Her name is Eileen. She’s a tall, skinny Brit with wiry corkscrew curls and thick glasses. She reminds me of a long-legged, long-necked stork. An eccentric, kind, curious bird.