I knew I could never make any sense of this depthless horror. But now I can say, 25 years on, that I'm able to understand a bit better what it was that killed my dad, the path his death propelled me down, and the healing that would happen in the most unlikely of ways.
I offer this story as a reminder to always take delight in the success of others -- most especially those who work for you -- and to never forget the universe is abundant. There's plenty of success and achievement to go 'round for all of us.
We have different options, but not to lose our humanity and our hope for the future, the future that we all have in our minds and hearts, of safety and security for all, we only have one resolution and one way forward: harder, but essential: peace.
Let's get something straight: My complaining about my corner of motherhood is not an invitation to be patronized or blamed from my parenting choices. It does not signify a lack of love for my children, or that I am delusional about either the big picture or the minutiae of parenting.
Most people say they want more love and joy in their lives, but they are often confused on how to create these experiences. What can we do, in very practical terms, to create more love and joy in our lives?
It stands to reason that once a given hindrance is identified, we should want to do everything in our power to drastically move away from that way of life. But we don't. Ends up change takes time, effort and commitment. I'd like to propose something even more drastic.
I dropped a hot iron on the carpet once. In college. I was in grad school, a teaching assistant, and needed a wrinkle-free, button-down blouse to wear for the first day of class. I wanted to look crisp. Clean. Professional.
Those lofty goals are far from being met in South Africa, or here in the U.S., for that matter. Mandela's legacy to us is to hold out the greater vision of reconciliation, a dream of justice grounded in a profound faith in the human capacity to change.
Empathy -- our ability to feel for others -- is what allows us to care for each other, to form communities and friendships, to imagine each other's feelings, to commiserate over each other's pain and share in each other's joy.
Last week I experienced my first racist incident in the eight years I have been living in the U.S. I have seen and heard of racism happening to others, but this time it hit close to home. It was an attack against the core of who I am.
The human mind is built to self-correct when fault is not placed on external events or circumstances. It might look otherwise, but you create your experience from inside to out -- 100 percent of the time.
Today, I am a proud and purposed Sikh-American, providing leadership in key national and international interreligious organizations. At an earlier point in my journey, things could have gone quite differently.
Interrupting the daily routine with a getaway isn't a luxury, it's a necessity. And for us and many others, these breaks have meant the difference between having a thriving relationship and getting a divorce.
In these formative years, students are like sponges, constantly absorbing clues from their superiors on how medicine should be practiced. Can we really expect medical students to retain their empathy if we don't show them how?
How might we be blocking the kind of cooperation that would bring those to us? Attitude is one big factor. When we are in a state of cooperation, our attitude is one of joy. If we are asked to do something, we do it -- and then some.
This past year at Princeton was a rather humbling and enriching one in general. One particularly important experience was gaining an incredibly inspirational and supportive friend -- someone who became my best friend by the end of the year.