I expected to love this movie, especially on a rainy day in southern Illinois with my children and husband beside me. But something really bothered me about it.

Of course, feeling motion sick from the constant moving of the camera didn’t help. But it was deeper than that. 

The premise, based on a true story, that a money-hungry, career-building American would go to India to pluck nice innocent boys from the countryside to build them into baseball stars created a pit in my stomach.

Seeing the tears on the mother’s face as her boy left not only their village but their country to travel so far that she couldn’t even fathom the distance – left me raw.

I am a mother. I am a businesswoman. Perhaps the drive and the dollar signs before his eyes were all too familiar.

There are so many days when I ask myself why I work so hard. Why I don’t stop and take a day off to notice the scent of the trees or to bake brownies in the quiet kitchen.

Recently, someone asked me if I could take a half day to myself. That would be so nice, I replied with a laugh, as if the very idea was so foreign I couldn’t even figure out how to make it happen.

But I work for myself! Why shouldn’t it happen? And what am I working so hard for, really?

The boys in the movie start each day with meditation and prayer, with yoga. They connected to Source before venturing out into the world. I’m on vacation for a very short three days and already I feel agitated, wondering when I need to get back to work. And this morning I did work anyway.

That’s not the person I want to be. I don’t want to cast innocent souls aside to meet my goal. I don’t want the illusion of grandeur to block my vision of peace and meaning.

We left the movie and the rain had stopped. Outside, a white late afternoon was still and dank. Overcast but warm enough for the kids to swim with their cousins.

My four kiddos: We loved it. That was the best movie ever!

Me: It bothered me. Our society just doesn’t have our priorities straight.

Yes, but there was a happy ending, my daughter reminded me. It all works out in the end. People see the error of their ways.

Perhaps. One person changed and improved his life and the lives of others. Said my eldest son, if one person can change, every person can change.

I suppose. Except it doesn’t happen every day. I am old enough to be cynical.

The movie reminded me of the glory and spirit of India. Of how being a world away was truly being a part of another world, where priorities are completely different. Where the pace of life is fast enough for me.

Yes, drivers honk their horns constantly. It’s crowded, and there is garbage in the streets.

But there is also prayer everywhere, every day. Focus on family. The entire family runs a business, runs a family, runs a life. The goals are achievable, with the right outcomes in mind.

Every night down on the banks of the Ganges was a prayer service. Fire lit, dancers at the riverside, everyone sitting close together, low to the ground, feet bare. Chanting and words, as the sun sank behind the foothills.

No rushing. No rush at all. Just the very idea that life is enough, that we are enough.

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