The Dalai Lama will be returning to Emory in just over a year. I'm hoping that when he comes, there may be an opportunity to participate in a 'creativity conversation' with him. Between now and then, I'm intending to go on a pilgrimmage. It will have several different dimensions, including perhaps an actual visit to Dharmasala, India, his home while in exile.
I've been thinking about this for a while. And it feels that this path for me has been pre-determined--by fate? by circumstances? by conditions? It's hard to know except that it feels inexorable, which is not the right word. Nonetheless it feels that way to me.
Probably I mean inevitable.
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