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Several months ago, I visited the largest Buddhist stupa temple outside of Asia.  It is in, of all places, Red Feather Lakes in the mountains of northern Colorado.  I was with my sister, Erin, on a sunny, winter Sunday.  Much to our delight and surprise, we were the only visitors, save for a grazing buck.  Erin and I meditated, sitting on small cushions on the exquisite inlaid marble floor at the foot of the tiant, yet friendly looking golden Buddha.  I haven’t experienced inner peace for many months due to my concern about our finances following the near collapse of the leadership consulting firm that my husband and I own.

I prayed to the spirits of the holy place for help in lightening the load that has weighed so heavily on my well-being.  Immediately I saw a vision of myself walking on a gently inclining path, burdened by cares and worries represented by a huge, unwieldy load of firewood.  Pieces were falling everywhere as I struggled to carry them.  The pile in my arms was too high to see clearly where I was going.  Not able to see in front of me, I glanced to my side.  Quietly walking next to me, waiting for me to glance her way, was an angel easily pushing an empty wheelbarrow.  I smiled.