My youngest son, Nicholas, came for the highest mountains. My daughter, May, to find her nirvana (and to hold as many babies as she could). Our eldest, Leo, came with his traveling guitar, dharma bum that he is. My wife, Sara, wanted to frolic with elephants. And me, I came to scatter the ashes of a friend and, once more, to get thrown beyond myself, petty concerns be damned. I came to find awe. Was that too much to ask?
Here we were, then, on our family vacation, an hour after touching down in Kathmandu, after passing through 10 discombobulating time zones. We had gone straight to the famous Boudhanath Stupa, a large dome that from the air looks like a mandala, and lost ourselves in a writhing carnival of…