Cup of Chai: 5:30am

Now I'm in Varanasi, another holy city of temples and music, a 21-hour train ride down the Ganges from Rishikesh. To celebrate Shivratri - the 'Night of Shiva' - there is a 3-day all-night Dhrupad festival. Dhrupad is the most ancient and richest of the Indian classical music traditions. The pavilion looks out over the Ganges to the east, where the last sliver of the moon has just risen, and in an hour the sun will follow.

Together, the moon and I will end this cycle and start the next. I'm excited to see the new stars of the southern hemisphere, and meet the land and the people of New Zealand.

In the last three years, hundreds of times I've sat with a friend to drink a cup of chai. The simple ritual is such a deep metaphor - we surrender the time and space, we give patient attentive willingness, we be with each other, we share something. Sometimes I think this is all there is to compassion.

This time, as I sip chai and watch the sun rise, rare early-morning raga melodies in the air, I'm sitting down with my friends back in America. Over the course of this Human Kindness Experiment in India, I've shared something unique with/through each of them.

Looking back at all my HKE experiences, I've tried to encapsule some of the main themes and lessons. As long as you've read some stories in the posts, you can read it here: The Universe at the Bottom of the Empty Cup.