I almost didn’t go.

Two weeks before departure, we were told His Holiness the Dalai Lama had fallen ill and could no longer receive our group for his 90th birthday celebration in Dharamsala. Most people cancelled. Flights were refunded. Plans collapsed.

But a few of us looked at each other and said, “We’ve already cleared our calendars… let’s just go anyway. Worst case, it’s a holiday in the Himalayas.”

Best case? It quietly rewrote the operating system of my soul.

Arrival in Another World

We flew by private jet from Delhi to Dehradun, the closest airport to the foothills. From there, a short drive up winding mountain roads brought us to Ananda in the Himalayas — a palace-turned-spa once frequented by King Charles, Bill Gates, Oprah, and half the Forbes list. I thought I was coming for yoga and massages. Turns out I was checking into a five-day unintentional retreat for the heart.

Day 1 – The Question That Broke Me Open

Our guide was David Baum, a soft-spoken American with two PhDs in psychology who normally helps Fortune 500 boards learn how to talk to each other. Here, he became something closer to a spiritual surgeon.

During the ice-breaker, we paired up. I got Jack, a warm-eyed Mexican entrepreneur. David gave us one instruction: ask each other “Why are you here?” — and keep asking until something real comes out.

Jack asked once. I gave the polished answer: “Bucket list. Wanted to meet the Dalai Lama.”

He smiled gently. “Okay… but why are you really here?”

I tried again: “First time in the Himalayas, looking for some peace.”

Same smile. “Why are you really, really here?”

Silence. Then something cracked. For the first time in my adult life I had no script. I realized I had spent decades completing tasks, fulfilling duties, deals, favors — anything that made other people approve of me — but had never once asked myself what I actually wanted. The question hung in the mountain air like incense.

The Cast of Characters Who Rewired Me

• Victor Chan — the Dalai Lama’s friend of 53 years and co-author of several books with him. When Victor spoke about His Holiness, grown men cried without shame.

• Tushar Gandhi — Mahatma Gandhi’s great-grandson. Humble, funny, fierce. He spent almost two days with us and casually dropped more wisdom than most gurus manage in a lifetime.

• Pujya Swami Chidanand Saraswati — one of North India’s most revered living saints. We stumbled into him completely by accident on the banks of the Ganges during Ganga Aarti. His ten-minute impromptu discourse untied knots in my mind I didn’t know were there.

Fire-Swallowing (Literally)

On the last night David announced we were going to “swallow fire.” Yes, actual flaming torches.

I thought it was metaphorical. It was not.

One by one we stepped forward. The elegant Nina — suddenly leapt up and volunteered first. If Nina can do it, I thought, I’m not going to be the coward. So I went second. Then Doriya, who had sworn she would NEVER, found herself holding a torch between her teeth while the rest of us cheered like lunatics.

Take a leap of faith? More like swallow one.

The Realization on a Balcony at Sunrise

Somewhere around Day 4, staring at the snow-capped peaks while a singing-bowl sound bath hummed through my ribcage, it hit me:

All my life I’ve been trying to earn love by serving everyone else — opening doors, carrying bags, working late, saying yes when I wanted to say no — because deep down I believed if I ever put myself first I would be selfish and therefore unlovable.

Charlie, another participant, kept repeating a simple phrase: “Love God. Love others. And love yourself.” That third part short-circuited me. I had never done 1 and 2 religiously. Number 3? Never even occurred to me it was allowed.

Bucket lists, watches, cars, handbags, private jets — they’re just grown-up toys. You play with them for two days and the thrill evaporates. I finally understood why ticking boxes never filled the hole.

Saying Goodbye Properly

David closed the retreat with the most beautiful teaching on closure I’ve ever heard. He said whenever we leave something behind — a place, a person, a chapter — we must say a proper goodbye or the energy stays stuck.

Three steps:

1. Speak gratitude and kind words.

2. Apologize for anything weighing on the heart.

3. Turn unfinished emotional business into a concrete next step (a call, a letter, a plan).

We went around the circle. We cried. We hugged like we might never see each other again (even though half of us will probably be at the same conference next month). And for the first time in my life I felt complete, not fragmented.

What Now?

I came home with no new watch, no new car, no new “experience” to brag about on Instagram.

Instead I brought home a question I finally dare to live with:

“Why am I here — really — here?”

And a promise to myself:

• Start meditating daily (even if it’s just five minutes).

• Keep the feeling I had under those Himalayan stars.

• Love myself the way I have always rushed to love everyone else.

The Dalai Lama never opened his door for us. But the mountains did.

And something much bigger walked in.

With huge gratitude to R360 for creating the container, Legacy+ (Paige, Robin, Janice) for flawless execution, and especially David, Charlie, Jack, Victor, Tushar, and Swamiji — you changed the trajectory of my life.

Sometimes the greatest gifts arrive disguised as cancelled plans.

Namaste from a slightly different man than the one who landed in Dehradun ten days ago. 🕉️

P.S. If you ever get the chance to swallow fire with strangers in the Himalayas at sunset — say yes. You’ll thank me later. 🔥