I used to envy the Hindus, they are either born Hindu or not. 
Everything is pre-packed.  Their beliefs, values, even their daily diet. 
No seeking for the ultimate truth, ’cause it’s given–just read the mannual.
 
But then one of my Indian friend told me that he wished he could make his own choice.  It’s not easy to be showered by all those beliefs and rituals since born, and you are not supposed to question them. 
I guess this is called "trade off" then.   Peace of mind or restlessness, it’s your call.
 
I used to call travelling my religion.  But dear Durkheim wouldn’t agree.  So I call it my ritual now, which according to him, is the most important part of a religion.  The problem is, what exactly is my religion?  I got the details, but somehow cannot fit them into a big picture.  This problem can be generalized to other aspects of my life as well.  I worry too much about the details, hence sometimes change the big picture I had in mind unintentionally.  It might fit James Dean’s motto well, but I am not speeding. 
 
Back to my religion.  I am still searching.  It’s not the same as searching for serenity (even Dalai Lama has worries), but close.  I came close to it when I went to Chi Lin Nunnery.  Although packed with tourists, it was never chaotic.  I stood there, in the middle of the courtyard, suddenly felt calm.  It is not easy for me to feel at ease with this world, especially with Hong Kong, but at that moment, I did.  It took me back to the summer of 2005.
 
And it felt great.      
    
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