As one of my many and varied spiritual pursuits I decided to climb a mountain in Nepal. A friend had championed this exploit. I idol- ized her success and was setting out to emulate it. I took a couple of months off work and headed up to explore the mountains, get lost, become famous, find truth.

I spent six months preparing. Learning to climb up and down vertical cliffs with my finger nails, hanging from ropes about the thickness of my pajama chord and at the drop of a handkerchief scramble down mountains backward. I arrived in Katmandu to great celebration and ceremony. My friend had recruited the sup- port of all her trusted Nepalese friends. I was, in an instant, one of the bunch.

I arranged for food drops, bought supplies and acclimatized in a mountain village for three days. I was ready for fame and glory. However, four hours into this month-long expedition, I stopped, took off my pack and threw in the towel.

Climbing the sacred mountain is a personal journey. No one can tell us what to do with our lives. However, we deserve to know the difference between our destiny and someone elses.

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