I can't believe that it is still New Year's Day, especially because the first half of today was still New Year's Eve back home.

We spent this afternoon on Shiva mountain. This massive presence overlooks the bustling town of Pondicherry.

I started today, the first day of 2008 very differently than in 2007. Arising in the early morning, I could still hear the music playing in the streets from ongoing New Year's celebrations.

In the gathering dusk, we saw shoes--”hundreds and hundreds of shoes--piled beneath a tree, spilling off shelves, tucked under a stairwell and tumbling across the pavement like an incoming tide.

This morning, our group met at the oldest temple in the world and the only Hindu temple dedicated to the Dancing Shiva in Chidambaram--one of the most sacred cities in southern India.

It was our first day in New Delhi, and right after a breakfast of masala omelets, we visited the tomb of a Sufi holy man.

I went to a temple dedicated to Shiva this morning--the divine masculine creator.

I came on pilgrimage looking to be healed and transformed. I wasn't expecting a miracle.

Every year, I take a two-hour ethics training at work and then take a test showing my proficiency in all the things I shouldn't do at work.

I am struck by how differently I am experiencing India this time around. I was in Delhi about three years ago as a very guarded, culture-shocked tourist.