The Book of Joy

of impact will carry life after life. That’s Buddhist viewpoint. So maybe
even then. But now, I’m looking forward to another occasion to see you
again—somewhere that only God knows.”
After some final photographs were taken, we had to rush to the
airport. As the Archbishop leaned on his cane now, walking perhaps a bit
slower than before, his age showing just a little more than it had earlier in
the week, I could see the Dalai Lama’s forehead wrinkling with concern
and worry. He had said God only knew where they would meet again, and
perhaps he was thinking about whether God would give them another
opportunity in this life.
The two leaders had told us over the course of the week that there is
no joy without sorrow, that in fact it is the pain, the suffering that allows
us to experience and appreciate the joy. Indeed, the more we turn toward
the suffering, our own and others, the more we can turn toward the joy.
We accept them both, turning the volume of life up, or we turn our backs
on life itself, becoming deaf to its music. They had also told us and
demonstrated that true joy is a way of being, not a fleeting emotion. What
they had cultivated in their long lives was that enduring trait of
joyfulness. They had warned us that we cannot pursue joy as an end in
itself, or we will miss the bus. Joy comes, rather, from daily thoughts,
feelings, and actions. And they had told us repeatedly the action that gets
us on the bus: bringing joy to others.
At the car, the two old, mischievous friends were joking and laughing
again. The Dalai Lama was rubbing the Archbishop’s hand tenderly
through the open window of the car. I could still see the signs of worry, or
perhaps it was just sadness at saying goodbye. As the engine started to
hum, the Dalai Lama looked at the Archbishop in the car, staying with
him to the last minutes of his visit. He put the palms of his hands together
in front of his face and bowed his head forward in a sign of deep respect
and affection.
The motorcade to the airport began to move, and the Dalai Lama still
stood, bowed slightly forward, eyes twinkling, and fingers waving
goodbye brightly, as children do. As we drove away, the Archbishop
looked back through the window of the SUV and gave one last smile and