Several months ago, I visited the largest Buddhist stupa temple outside of Asia. It is in, of all places, Red Feather Lakes in the mountains of northern Colorado. I was with my sister, Erin, on a sunny, winter Sunday. Much to our delight and surprise, we were the only visitors, save for a grazing buck. Erin and I meditated, sitting on small cushions on the exquisite inlaid marble floor at the foot of the tiant, yet friendly looking golden Buddha. I haven’t experienced inner peace for many months due to my concern about our finances following the near collapse of the leadership consulting firm that my husband and I own.
I prayed to the spirits of the holy place for help in lightening the load that has weighed so heavily on my well-being. Immediately I saw a vision of myself walking on a gently inclining path, burdened by cares and worries represented by a huge, unwieldy load of firewood. Pieces were falling everywhere as I struggled to carry them. The pile in my arms was too high to see clearly where I was going. Not able to see in front of me, I glanced to my side. Quietly walking next to me, waiting for me to glance her way, was an angel easily pushing an empty wheelbarrow. I smiled.