Think about it for a second.
You walk up onto a stage in a huge, packed auditorium.
You sit still and allow people to perform a ceremony around you, even though you don’t really want it, even though so many flower garlands around your neck are heavy. But it means so much to the people, and you love them so much, that you allow it.
You then give a talk, with no notes, with spiritual advice to suit the hundreds of thousands of people either present or tuning in.
Then you sit down at the edge of a small wooden platform on the stage, with just a small cushioned brace for your back, and you hug people. One after the other. Non stop. You don’t get up to stretch your legs. You don’t go to the bathroom. You certainly don’t sleep. You almost certainly don’t eat or drink, other than maybe a sip of water.
One after the other. Tens, hundreds, thousands of people. Sweaty, crying, stressed, blissful, hungry for compassion or love or guidance or wish fulfillment. All kinds. Individuals. Families. People with tragic stories. People who pawned the family jewelery just to get a bus ticket to visit one time. People who’ve been raped. People who are addicted to drugs. People who make more in a minute than some do in a year. People who not only don’t know where their next meal will come from, they haven’t had a meal in days. People who are dying of cancer, or AIDS. People who can’t afford medical care. People who can’t even afford a wheelchair and they drag themselves around. Journalists. Celebrities. Spiritual tourists. One after the other. Each hug literally lasts seconds, but you give so much love that each person comes away feeling full. You arrange for the hungry to be fed. You arrange for the sick to get care. You arrange for return transportation. You give advice. You have seconds per person to do this, because there are tens of thousands of people waiting. One after the other.
Minute after minute. Hour after hour.
For over 25 hours.
Without complaint, without anything other than continually overflowing love and compassion, welcoming everyone as your very own child. Not just patiently, but joyfully. Even the ones who smell bad. The ones who show up drunk. The ones who pull at your weary body. The ones who bump the bruise that never leaves your cheek, from keeping your face against people’s ears to whisper your love to them. The ones who are only there to try to prove you’re a fraud. Everyone. Your own child. Absolute, unconditional love.
Cameras are in your face. Strong lights constantly shine onto you. Even as you hug people, others come up to your side to ask you questions. You direct massive charitable operations, all while hugging people. You don’t miss a beat. You don’t get impatient. You simply keep on loving.
And if even ONE person among the tens of thousands does not show up to be hugged, even if you only saw them one time before or even if you never saw them at all, you know. You call for them to be found and brought to you.
One after the other.
For over 25 hours.
Stop and ask yourself how it’s even possible.
I couldn’t do it.
I don’t know anyone else who could.
But it’s happening, right now, and even dipping a toe into that river of love could be the highest blessing and most transformative moment of your life.
There is a real live miracle walking the Earth today. It’s changed millions of lives. It’s changed mine. This is the real deal. Give yourself the gift of experiencing it while you can.
-Pranada Devi (Toronto, Canada)