Perfect! I was really hungry and wanted to find out if the food in England was as bad as people said it was. So I found a few friends and invited them to join me for the fish and chips in a quaint little pub only minutes away.

When I returned to the hall at 4:30, there was already a long line. I found my place on the end of it, chatted up a few locals, and began the slow and steady shuffling forward to the entrance.

Then the line stopped.

"The hall is full," an usher announced to no one in particular. "There are no more seats. Come back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Come back tomorrow? Dude, I just paid $650 for a round trip ticket to England! I just took three days off work! No one told me there was even the slightest chance of not getting in. This is insane! Who's in charge? Let me talk to someone with a walkie talkie! There must be a way to get in!"

My pitiful internal dialogue continued, in full stereo neurosis, for the next ten minutes, me alternately blaming the program organizers, the ushers, my pub waitress, "them," the entire country of England and, ultimately, myself for apparently having too leisurely a lunch.

And then... I remembered.

I remembered what Maharaji had been teaching me in oh so many ways since I first met him many years ago: how to let go... how to enjoy the moment... how to go beyond the chattering monkeys of my mind and enjoy the divine play that is only ever happening NOW.

"Hmmm," I thought to what was left of my self, "I actually have the entire afternoon off in jolly old England. No wife. No kids. No responsibilities."

As I exited the scene of my mini-meltdown, I could see, just a few hundred yards away, rising up to the sky like some kind of cinematic mirage -- eight movie theaters.

I scanned the marquee. Four of them I'd seen before. Three didn't start until evening. But one... one was just about to start -- Cliffhanger, starring Sylvester Stallone.

Hey, why not? The joke was on me. And though I hadn't quite begun to laugh, I could definitely feel a smile coming on.

So I bought a ticket, some popcorn, and took my seat (believe me, there were plenty to choose from).

For the next hour and 53 minutes while Maharaji inspired, uplifted, entertained, cajoled, held forth, waxed poetic, and reminded 5,000 people what life was all about -- I sat in a darkened movie theater watching the former star of Rocky I, II, III, IV, V, and VI battle the bad guys, under impossible conditions, high in the Rocky Mountains, trying to save the day.

It was totally surreal.

There I was, 3,476 miles from home, sitting no more than a few hundred yards from the most amazing person I'd ever met (Maharaji, not Stallone) and was totally enjoying a movie I wouldn't have chosen to see in a thousand years.

PS: I got to the hall very early on Sunday morning.

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