We were in a taxi in Bangkok and Josh and I were staring out into the sidewalk as the taxi ambled forward in the jam. Along one road, this man was cooking. It seemed he was mindfully lost in the motions that he probably carried out daily; the noisy traffic didn’t seem to break the tranquility or was it a kind of loneliness that was the moment. Shouldn’t he be sitting somewhere at home playing with his grandchildren? Tagore wrote that things shouldn’t be fully explained or understood. It was this primal mode of giving our own interpretation that was the real essence of our learning. I could only think how life was really quite amazing staring at the man cooking.