There once was a frontier democracy called Utopica, founded on the principles of freedom, equality and the pursuit of happiness. The land achieved unprecedented material progress and made great strides in research and education. And Utopica freely shared its wealth and ideas, becoming a model and magnet for people all over the world.

Over time, the fabric of society started to fray. Out of prosperity grew complacency, dissention and conflict. Man against man. Young against old. Rich against poor. Neighbor against neighbor. The society became fragmented and there was constant talk of rights - rights of individuals, rights of groups, rights of states - rights and yet more rights. No longer was there talk of duties and responsibilities.

The elected leader of the land, a man of great intellect and vision, sought to restore harmony and lead the nation to greater heights. However, faced with conflicting demands to preserve the status quo from some quarters, and to launch bold initiatives from others, he was unable to strike the right balance. Aware of diminishing public support, he turned to his council of advisors. the advisors, learned and distinguished experts, dispensed their opinions with characteristic ambiguity, adding to the beleaguered Leader's confusion. But one of the advisors had heard about a sage who dwelled in Distantland and counseled other world leaders. He suggested that the Leader seek out the sage. Utopica's Leader thought that a good idea, and decided to go on a journey in search of wisdom to better serve the society ho so dearly loved.

The Leader told his council of his plans for a retreat and asked them to invoke the established provisions of Utopica to govern Utopica during his absence. He then embarked on his quest incognito - not to lead for a time, but simply to learn. And so, one night, without his usual entourage of aides and guards, the Leader slipped out from the executive residence and was on his way to Distantland.

Traveling on the road to the port from which he would embark, he passed through a great metropolis. This was Utopica's commercial center and home to many of its richest and most powerful citizens. To traverse the Metropolis, the Leader had chosen the emptiness of dawn as the best hours to make his way unnoticed. But there on a side street, he encountered a jogger, whom he recognized from his still imposing figure. The jogger happened to be an old friend, a former athlete turned business executive, and a thirty year veteran of the corporate world. He respected the Leader for his vision and integrity, and spoke with him candidly.

The Executive was himself in a quandary. He had been criticized alternately for being too much of a visionary and for being too short-sighted; for practicing participatory management and for being too patriarchal. Some citizens thought he was putting unconscionable profits above the public good. Others thought he was not doing enough to maximize shareholder value. Buffeted by conflicting demands, caught up in various management fads, and beseeched by consultants who tailored problems to fit their patented solutions, the Executive saw the handwriting on the boardroom wall. He was at a loss as to what to do. The Utopica Leader told the Executive of his impending journey to Distantland and urged him to join the quest. Since the Executive was on vacation, he readily agreed to embark on the mission.

Soon the two seekers were out of the main city and passing through Urbania. By chance, their route took them very close to a school where the Executive had received his education. Because of the Executive's curiosity as to what had happened since he had left school, and the Leader's interest in education, he suggested that they go in. The Executive was delighted to discover that the educator who had most influenced him was still at the school.

The Educator, a woman of extraordinary dedication, remained with the school as principal emeritus. She was astonished and delighted when the two appeared at her door. She felt flattered that such a distinguished alumnus should think so highly of her school, and even more flattered that the leader of the country should join him. Being very perceptive, she soon grasped the importance of their mission.

Over tea, the Educator poured out her deepening worries about disintegrating families, about crime and violence, about education taking a back seat in national priorities, and above all the anti-intellectual climate now pervading so many schools, even her own. Before a formal invitation extended, it was very soon understood that she too would join in the venture. And so it was that she came to be the third member of the party now journeying to Distantland.

The Leader and the Executive and the Educator continued on their journey largely unnoticed. While waiting on a platform for a train, however, an environmentalist who was also waiting there recognized the Executive and greeted him. She had met him before at public meetings. The Executive, she thought, was environmentally sensitive and argued for responsible policies. Still, they had not seen eye to eye on many issues. On the other hand, the Executive resented the fact that despite substantial progress made by industry, the Environmentalist was slow to acknowledge the progress already made and industry's contribution to Utopicans' standard of living.

There, on the platform, waiting for the train that would take them a bit closer to Distantland, the trio listened as the young Environmentalist spoke passionately about the issues weighing heavily on her mind. Her voice was low but there was no mistaking her feelings. She acknowledged that the environmental problem was a fundamental one, rooted in the frontier spirit. She saw it as a continued failure of businessmen to abandon the frontier ethic that treated natural resources as unlimited and subject to endless exploitation. Rapidly expanding population and development, she argued with conviction, had led to unsustainable practices and the disappearance of forests and plant and

animal species. Since by design or accident, human beings have become the trustees of the natural resources of this planet, she said, they must share the responsibility to preserve natural wealth in all its forms for present and future generations.

The other three listened in silence and nodded knowingly. Even in the short time they had been together, a bond of friendship had begun to develop. Upon learning about their odyssey, the Environmentalist expressed her interest in joining them; she had heard of the people living in harmony with nature in Distantland. She was heartily welcomed, and she promised to join them later at the Port.

Before continuing on their mission, the three decided to stop at a famous Medical Center to check their fitness and obtain preventive medications for the arduous journey ahead. The Physician who attended them there looked prosperous but harried. He inquired about their journey while examining them, and upon learning of their mission, had his own story to tell.

While he was still a boy, his mother and several relatives in his native community had died of an obscure ailment that seemed particularly to strike people of his ancestry. He had been attracted to the noble profession out of desire to shed light on this mystery and to contribute to the health and well-being of people in need. Just as he was finishing medical school, the Utopica government had created a program to pay for the medical treatment and care of some segments of the population. With open funding, the program ballooned and, as years went by, claimed more and more of Utopica's resources.

And yet, Utopicans were less healthy in many respects than people in similar lands. The focus had shifted from responsible health partnership to an array of anonymous deliverers and from health to disease. Catering to diseases presented far greater financial rewards than helping people maintain their health. Utopicans lost faith in the miracles of modern medicine that they had come to expect. Moreover, as patients grew suspicious of the medical profession's intentions, the trust between doctor and patient had eroded and the relationship became adversarial.

The Physician was a large man with intense features, but there was a quiet authority and comforting quality in the way he spoke, which accounted for his widespread professional reputation. After the physicals were completed, he pronounced the Explorers amply fit for the journey. He had heard about the long tradition of natural remedies and holistic health practices in Distantland, and wondered aloud if that place might offer some answers to his growing concerns about the practice of medicine. The Leader, sensing the healer's feelings, invited him to join the quest.

Since they had not eaten for many hours, the doctor took them to the medical center's cafeteria. There, he introduced his new companions and their mission to a colleague, an astrophysicist turned microbiologist who had recently joined the medical research center. Their mission turned out to be not all that different from the one he had been contemplating for some time. The Astrobiologist spoke with a spacious quality that emanated from his many years of communion with the galaxies. Shifting his vocation from remote

galaxies to proximate molecules, he had recently traded his telescope for a microscope. Because of his enduring fascination with the exquisite complexity of life on earth, he was attracted to a research fellowship offered by the center under a Perspective Transfer program. The Astrobiologist soon discerned this quest as a rare opportunity to synthesize macrocosm and microcosm and discover the universe within. He too asked if he might join the quest and was heartily welcomed. The Physician and the Astrobiologist said they would make arrangements for the journey and join the team the next morning at the train station to Port.

Again aboard a train wending its way toward the Port, the Explorers talked about the challenges facing Utopica and their quest to Distantland. The young woman sitting across the aisle became intrigued and joined in their conversation. It soon became clear that she had reached a moment of crisis in her life. Several years earlier she had taken a job in advertising and then worked with children after graduating from college in sociology. She had just resigned her job, finding it difficult to balance her various responsibilities to her children and family as a homemaker, to the care of her elderly parents, as well as to her own need for professional and personal fulfillment. As a mother, she felt called upon to invest in the future, the past, and the present. She called this an "investment crisis." And yet people thought she led a mundane existence.

The Mother struck a chord with the Explorers. They thought she represented the true pillar of the society since what she did, and how, would be paramount to the future well-being of Utopica. They invited her to join them in their quest. Elated at the prospect, but reluctant because of all her obligations, she said that she would go home, arrange for her family's needs during her absence, then meet her fellow seekers the following day at the Port.

As the Explorers waited at the Port anticipating the arrival of the others to complete the circle, chance brought yet another seeker into their midst. They were sitting in a café at the time, thinking aloud the myriad questions they hoped to find answers to on the faraway hills of Distantland, when a member of a religious order walked over to their table from a corner where he had been sitting alone.

Because he wore the demeanor of clerics in Utopica, they inquired if he too was on a spiritual quest. It turned out that he had just come back from a retreat in Nearland. A gathering, alas, that had not brought him the release and understanding he sought. The decline in spirituality, the social malaise, the religious conflicts and bigotry, and the public apathy in Utopica were causing members of his congregation great anguish, as were family breakdown, crime, and conflicts between material and spiritual values. Despite his recent retreat, the Cleric felt inadequate to face members of his flock who looked to him for guidance. Then, recalling what he had read in the past about the spiritual traditions of Distantland, he decided that their mission might illuminate these issues further. Thus, it took little persuasion for him to accompany them on the quest to the Sage in Distantland.

Soon, the last member of the team arrived in Portcity, the intense anticipation of the upcoming adventure lightening her steps. Their number now complete, the Explorers made reservations to board ship the next morning and retired to a nearby hotel for the night. And a special night it was. Each lay alone in his or her separate thoughts, unable to sleep, not trying to sleep. They all knew, somehow, that a part of their life was coming to an end, but knew not what was going to be.

During the voyage, as they crossed the oceans, the seekers had much time to contemplate the strange course of events that had led to this assemblage, their momentous mission, and what might lay ahead. Amidst all the uncertainty, anticipation and excitement, they sensed an impending transformation, the depths of which they had scarcely begun to fathom.

It was twilight when they reached the shores of Distantland, arriving at Distant Port. This was still leagues from their ultimate destination, up the mountain slopes to Himarest, where the Sage had his abode. Traveling incognito, the Leader did not want any contact with local officials, or any special privileges. Like his companions, he had come to realize that the journey itself is part of the discovery.

After some deliberation, the pilgrims boarded a train bound for Himaville, a short distance from Himarest. Along the way, traveling much of a night and day with the windows open, they experienced a cacophony of sights, sounds and smells in and out of the train &endash; overwhelming at times, yet reassuring. The people appeared in various guises and looked poor but not unhappy. The curious milieu &endash; vaguely reminiscent of a bygone era - as if this were part of a personal past witnessed through a veil.

Toward evening, the train stopped at a crowded station with a throng of vendors peddling an assortment of foods. These reminded the pilgrims that they had not eaten for the better part of a day but were at a loss as to what to order. A Distantlander who had just boarded the train, seeing their predicament, offered to help them make their selection. They ended up with a strange assortment that tasted either too spicy or too sweet, tempered by bitter-sweet buttermilk. Thus having gotten food and drink out of the way, they resumed their conversation, which seemed to flow in a torrent.

By an extraordinary coincidence, it turned out that the Distantlander had served as a disciple of the very Sage they were going to visit. The Distantlander had the highest regard and admiration for the Sage as a rare embodiment of ancient wisdom and modern science. He knew that the Sage had studied in Utopica and, in fact, was the first ever to earn a triple doctorate in science, economics, and medicine. He explained that before retiring to Himarest and dedicating his life to the pursuit of the Infinite, the Sage had been a director of an environmental institute, a business executive, and an honorary professor of biomedical sciences. The Distantlander empathized with the Explorers' mission and volunteered to guide them to the Sage.

The following morning, they reached a junction where they had expected to catch a local train that would bring them to Himaville, at the foothills of Himarest. The Distantlander explained that the local train's whereabouts and timings tended to be uncertain. It would be better, he said, to look for alternative means of travel. With their consent, he proceeded to rent nine sturdy ponies, and they began to ascend the slopes.

As they approached the foothills of Himarest, the early Spring weather and the terrain became more and more inhospitable. A chill wind rose up the valley floor and the kaleidoscope of colors in the sky was the most mysterious the travelers from far away had ever seen. The Distantlander suggested that they set up camp there and wait till the morning to traverse the mountain to the Sage's abode. In the meantime, he would go ahead to inform the Sage of the Utopican Explorers' quest and to seek permission for them to call on him.

Having spent several years in Utopica as a student and a professor, the Sage was delighted to hear about the quest of the citizens of a land that he knew so well and held dear to his heart. He readily agreed to have them visit him at his monastic Ashram.

Distantlander returned to the base camp from the Ashram with the good news. With him guiding the way, the pilgrims resumed their climb awed by the Summit, which was now coming into full view. Below it stretched a magnificent plateau, crossed by mountain streams and uncharacteristically warm for this lofty altitude.

Soon they entered a grove nestled in an idyllic setting. In the middle stood a cottage shielded from the afternoon sun in resplendent surroundings. The panorama of dancing peacocks, wandering deer, and frolicking monkeys seemed only to accentuate the serene backdrop of mountains and foothills.

The Sage came out of the cottage to greet the approaching pilgrims. Despite the arduous journey, the Explorers felt exhilarated by the Sage's demeanor and welcoming remarks. The Sage welcomed them to stay for the ten days they had requested, then introduced a person who looked like his alter ego, the Ashram Disciple. He told them he would endeavor in every way to make their quest a rewarding experience.

The Sage was a tall man with long flowing hair and beard and wrapped in saffron clothing, an archetypal sentient being. He blended in seamlessly with the backdrop of the majestic mountains as one, and so also the Disciple. In fact, they looked and spoke in such unison, it was hard to distinguish them.

With all the enthusiasm of explorers on the verge of a great discovery, the pilgrims seemed ready to plunge in and immerse themselves in the Sage's wisdom. He appeared not to notice, however. Instead, with an easy dignity leavened with an ageless smile, the Sage advised them to rest for the night. With these words, he withdrew to an adjacent cottage.

The Disciple then beckoned the pilgrims onto the veranda and expressed delight in being able to participate in their mission. Early Spring, he noted, was a quiet time at the Ashram; their timing was propitious. He then left and reappeared in a few minutes with light refreshments. While they were partaking of the refreshments, he acquainted them with the daily routine at the Ashram, starting with meditation at dawn. Silence was usually observed through early morning, but tomorrow would be an exception since they had only just arrived. The Explorers would be conferring with the Sage after the meditation period. From time to time some pupils would be sitting in as observers.

The afternoon would be devoted to reflecting on what was discussed in the morning. In late afternoon and evening, they would have the opportunity to visit the nearby village of Himaville. The Disciple would make arrangements for them to visit a school, a primary health clinic, a villager's home, and other places they might find interesting. They would be able to share ideas and work at the village during their sojourn. After supper at the village or at the Ashram, they would end the day in meditation and reading of scriptures.

As the evening shadows drifted up the veranda and merged into the night, the Disciple showed the pilgrims their quarters at the back of the Ashram abutting the august mountains, and bid them good night.