Hermitude

Note: I was reviewing my archives when I discovered that I never published this, written some time in August 2006>

I have often thought that I was surely a monk in at least one past life. The rhythm and quiet and beauty of an imaginary religious life seems calming and comforting In a world where things seem always to be wizzing past us at lightning speed. I am having something of a monastic experience here in Sacramento. I see virtually no one, my days are built around a few familiar, monotonous activities (okay so eating and watching tv aren't exactly devotional!). But the thing that the monks had is eachother. Even if they had vowed silence, they were a part of something intentional, they were working alone together to build something that none of them could accomplish singley.
I of all people should be aware that this is a highly romanticised view of the situation. You know there still are monks? I found out recently that someone for whom I suffered silent and unrequited heartache years ago had joined the religious life, which he had long been drawn to. I should be happy for the attainment of his goal, but with monkery, both ancient and modern, you are also required to die as an individual in order to be reborn into the body of the church. So I have lost someone dear to me, and he chose to be lost.