Stupidity or Courage?

Sometimes I can’t tell if what I’m doing is an act of courage or plain stupidity. As a PEG tuber, eating is no longer a joy but a chore, shadowed by the concerns of others. And yet, knowing I was fortunate and grateful to be invited to the 90th Birthday Celebration of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama in India this September, perhaps thanks to my contributions volunteering for the Asia Teachings for almost the past 10 years, I find myself at a crossroads. 

Traveling with my condition is inconvenient, risky, and bound to be complicated. Logically, the challenges are obvious. But a few questions rise from my heart: Do I really want to let this body’s limitations chain me to safety? Do I want to miss the chance to meet the Dalai Lama, knowing time waits for no one?

Joseph Campbell once wrote, “If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.” My path is not clear. It is uncertain, messy, and perhaps reckless—but maybe that is exactly what makes it mine.

The math is simple: if you do what everyone does, you get what everyone gets. If you want different results, you have to diverge.

The Power of the Pregnant Pause

Life often hands us moments of pause, those in-between spaces where the past has slipped away but the future has not yet arrived. This is what some call a liminal space — a place of transition, uncertainty, and quiet potential.

For me, this pause feels heavy with possibility. Like silence before music begins, it carries the weight of something waiting to be born. There is no obvious right or wrong step here. 

And the way I know how to do that is the same way I’ve always done before traveling: by doing enough research, staying organized, having people I trust around me in a foreign country, choosing destinations where I know a friend lives, and making sure I have the right travel insurance. That careful preparation has always been my anchor, even when the path ahead feels hazy.

Learning From a Blind Adventurer

When doubt creeps in, I think of Erik Weihenmayer. Blind since his teenage years, he became the first blind climber to reach the summit of Everest and he went on to conquer all Seven Summits. Later, he spent eight years learning to kayak, finally taking on the raging waters of the Colorado River.

His story is a powerful reminder that what looks like stupidity to the world may actually be extraordinary courage. As Erik says, “Don’t make your life about the barriers you face, but what you do with them.” His life proves that the thin line between foolishness and bravery is often where growth happens.

Embracing a Life Outside the Mold

As a queer Buddhist, I know what it means to be different. My life has never fit into neat little boxes, and I have often followed my heart even when it made me an outsider. At times, that choice has been misunderstood as rebellion. But to me, it is simply a refusal to let life shrink into something smaller than it was meant to be.

So yes, some may see my choices as foolish. But I see them as a commitment to living fully, even in the face of uncertainty.

Who Leaves First?

The Dalai Lama may be turning 90, but the truth is, none of us know who will leave this world first. That truth does not frighten me, it sharpens me. It reminds me that opportunities like this are fragile, fleeting, and sacred.

So perhaps I am foolish enough to risk the inconvenience of travel. Or perhaps I am quietly laying down the stones of better karma in this spiritual pursuit, so that the next path will be wiser, smoother, and more luminous?

Or maybe in the end, I am simply walking full circle, back to my first thought: not knowing if this is courage or stupidity, but choosing to step forward anyway.