A disparate group of British retirees are lured by an invitation to "outsource" themselves for a stay at the newly opened Best Exotic Marigold Hotel in Jaipur, India. It is no surprise that, upon arrival, they discover a place far from a luxurious retreat. The advertising claim, bodacious... "for the elderly and beautiful." And who wouldn't welcome that enticement?

 

It is an enticement because each character faces a crossroad. Each has a life-changing or challenging moment. (This also includes Sonny, the hotel manager who dreams of bringing the hotel back to its former glory, his personality an infectious mixture of ebullient optimism and perhaps an extra can or two of Red Bull. Sonny has only to save the hotel, win the heart of his girlfriend, and obtain his mother's acceptance of both.)

 

We meet... Recently widowed housewife Evelyn Greenslade (Judi Dench), who must sell her home to cover huge debts left by her late husband.

High Court Judge Graham Dashwood (Tom Wilkinson), who has for many years been retiring "any day now". During the retirement speech of a colleague, Graham declares, "Today's the day."

Douglas and Jean Ainslie, who have been married for 39 years, and since Douglas invested--and lost--all their savings in their daughter's internet business, the two find themselves unable to afford any kind of home other than beige retirement bungalows installed with panic buttons.

Muriel Donnelly (Maggie Smith), a bitter and racist ex-housekeeper who needs a hip replacement operation (which is much less expensive in India).

Madge hunts another husband.

And Norman, an aging lothario, is trying to re-live his youth.

 

As you can imagine, each is making their choice under the scowls and protestations of "caring and concerned" loved ones. "You're going to do what?"  

 

A hotel--retired life--for the elderly and beautiful sounds like a dream, or a scheme, and in truth it's a bit of both as neither life nor the "Marigold Hotel" turn out exactly as one might wish.

Evelyn: Nothing here has worked out quite as I expected.
Muriel: Most things don't. But sometimes what happens instead is the good stuff.

 

These stories resonate because in each story there is a moment of choice: what does it look like to live into this self, and not the self I should be?

 

The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.

Henry David Thoreau

 

Which all makes sense on paper. After all, even Dr. Suess reminds us, "today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."

And yet, if I'm honest, it is too easy to settle for a compromised self--some amalgamation of public opinion and playing the right role. And I am unable to make those choices (to be fully alive) because I am frozen--under the sway of some unnamed fear, whether it be offending or disappointing or failing.

This is the quandary for each of the characters at the Marigold.  

Do I continue to live afraid?  

Do I hide or cover up or withhold as if I'm doing someone a favor?  

Or, do I own responsibility for my destiny?

 

Most of the decisions we make in life turn out to be right or wrong not because we were prescient, but because of the way we function after we make the decision. Edwin Friedman

 

You see, that's the good news. There's no checklist about being fully alive, as if it can be perfected. ("Are we there yet?") When we do choose to risk or change or move forward at any crossroad, we intentionally embrace ambiguity (and potential chaos), and the reality that our plans may not work out, and there will be unhappy people who consider it their spiritual gift to wag judgmental fingers.

 

But here's the deal: When we choose--when we risk, when we take that leap--we will most likely learn that we are braver than we remembered and stronger than we knew. Why? Because we are living wholehearted. Why? Because we enter fully into this life... ready to be surprised, to engage, to contribute, to offer reconciliation (setting others free from expectation), to embrace self-forgiveness, to let go of small mindedness and intolerance, to give wings to a generous spirit, and to take delight in the wonder of it all.

 

Okay. I'll 'fess up. There's something comforting in the logjam. Being stuck works. You know, clutching the "any day now" (or "some day") mentality.

 

I know of a parish that enjoyed a growing and enthusiastic young adult program. The young adults were eager to get involved and contribute and collaborate and dream. The Pastor subdued the passion. He told an associate, "We can't give them any power. Because if it gets going, God only knows how this will turn out!"

We will always stay stuck if we live a world where passion or playfulness or jubilation or unfettered living is to be feared and not celebrated.

 

I'm with Mary Oliver...

as though I had wings.

 

It may have been our last weekend of summer here in the Pacific Northwest. But then, in September, we say that every weekend when the sun graces us. I guess that's the hard part. You never know. So I sit on my patio, and savor the garden and the way the light make shadows on the lawn.  

 

Thus you do not solve the mystery, you live the mystery. And you do that not by fully knowing yourself but by fully being yourself.  

Frederick Buechner

 

   

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