By Murari Gupta Dasa
"Please cancel my tickets," I said to my friend on the phone. "I won't be able to go." I hung up the phone and sank down onto my bed, my head in my hands. My friend had arranged my tickets for the trip to Jagannatha Puri and Mayapur I had been so eagerly looking forward to, and now I had to cancel. The past few weeks in my life had been very turbulent, so when my friends proposed a spiritual retreat to these two holy places so dear to the followers of Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, I jumped at the offer, hoping for a welcome break. But it couldn't happen now. My stringent schedule was not loosening its grip on me. "Damn it!" I cried out. I shot from the bed, threw my pillow to the ground, and pulled out the bed sheet. I lifted the mattress and wanted to fling it too, but it was too heavy. I dropped it half on the floor, stomped out of the room, went into the bathroom, and stood with my arms bent over the sink. Breathing heavily, I stared down at the dark drain and dripped tears into it.