My dad died on the last day of 2022. I was fortunate to have been with him and talk to him in the last days of his illness in hospital. He was 89 years old. I had a difficult relationship with him at times, but in the last decade, our relationship was close even though I have been living in Europe for the past 29 years. I miss our phone conversations and emails. From time to time I would find myself thinking of sending him an email about something, then I’d realize he’s no longer here. Those are the saddest moments. I pray for his soul everyday and have masses said for him. I find a lot of comfort praying for him - during my daily Rosary, at Mass, when I pray a Novena.
Coyote song is one of the most beautifully haunting sounds. We used to live out in the country and most nights in winter we heard them. Now, living in a small town, very rarely I hear snatches of them on the wind. Early one morning as I stood in the garden waiting for our dog to do her business, a gorgeous big coyote trotted up the street and crossed into the field across from the house. It felt like a confirmation of sorts, so I understand how you feel about your golf course pack. Thank you, as always, for sharing your thoughts...I waffle constantly between unplugging and walking away, and sticking around. Writers like you keep the pendulum swinging towards the 'sticking around' side. Take great care of yourself Jack...I hope you have easier days ahead.
Your story reminds me a bit of Robert Johnson, who among other things (studying with Carl Jung, and traveling through India) he also spent several years as a Benedictine monk.. but also left the order after a time. He has been much in my thoughts.
Recently, I have been living in Turkey and traveling through Greece, visiting churches and monasteries, and also wrestling with the the threads (and knots) of love that bind all of these traditions together.. (Hebraic, Christian, Muslim) with all of the blood shed between these three traditions—it is a daily question for me: how to take up the threads of love that have withered in these darkening days and not repeat the mistakes of the past, how to move forward with wisdom and discernment. For me it is a very personal question..but nevertheless one with very public implications.
In regards to Old man Coyote.. two of my favorite authors who have written on the topic, worth exploring. Dan Flores "Coyote America" and Lewis Hyde "Trickster Makes This World"
Ian- A beautiful poem. Thank you. Those lonely, austere offices done unto the ages of ages. I don't think we can even have a clue.
It is not only a very good question, but *the* question, i.e., how to take up our mangled heritage and turn it towards what we hope is its original aim. How can we assume, under the pressure of history, that we will do any better. But we avoid facing it at our own peril...and the world's. That reckoning could turn out to be a blessing for us all. I hope so.
I'm sorry for your loss. I'm also happy for you that you had the true, long lasting gift of being there with your dying father. My own dad passed 18 years ago, aged 76, from a massive brain tumor. Six weeks from discovery to death. Filling the absence left by departed presence, well, we have no training in that at all, and it's hard. Otherwise, Radical contemplation: It reminds me of the Heidegger quote that goes something like: One of the most surprising things about our most surprising times is that we are still not thinking. --I think surprising is the wrong word, but the idea is there. Radical contemplation sounds something like daring the rigors of truth, something like doing the hard work of really thinking. Most people seem to speak in the voice of common opinion which is to speak without thinking at all. To actually think takes time, reflection, analysis, the opening up of awareness, work. I'd go for it as a radical act.
Thank you. Yes, and it was a gift to have been there. It has planted something in me, I think, but I don't yet know what. Maybe that's another gift. We shall see.
I also don't really fully know what I mean by radical contemplation but it seems worth fathoming. I think it *is* that fathoming. I have long felt, as you say, that what we usually call thinking isn't thinking at all. We may--or may not--end up with a system of syllogisms, but that isn't the hear of thinking either, but merely a way of presenting it, or trying to. Many of us are taking inspiration from Iain McGilchrist, and so do I. But there are other sources that I have mentioned in past essays. It finds its beginning and its depths in stillness and silence and what may start to bubble up from there. It is an old way, but in our technological age, one we have turned into stress relief technique, rather than a fundamental shift in how we are, and how we are in the world.
That's the best I can do at the moment. I hope you are well. -Jack
Throughout it all, the Coyote. The trickster. I think they were telling you something because of your reaction to them. I am aware that my reality is created by my mind and that this world doesn't actually exist anywhere except in our mind. Our collective mind and our private mind keep the illusion going. This is a very important clue as to how to deal with things and I wish I knew more than that, but as yet I do not. All I know is that if a particle can be in two places at the same time - something Quantum physics has proven - was it Bell? - then space time does not exist outside our brains.
I have. I have been, shall we say, a bit enamored with his Become Desert over the past year or two. I think it is a masterpiece. I was just listening to it today as I crossed--what else?--the desert. I need to dig deeper into Become Ocean.
Thank you for your writing about your father. I have never lossed anyone so close to me. I am 34 and currently live with my father, who is not in bad health and I expect to be around for a while...though as you mentioned, nothing is ever certain. I expect to be nearby for his passing, and that is something to contemplate over the years.
Concerning point 5., there is a really excellent novel I read a few years ago called 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘒𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 by Paolo Bacigalupi...about near-future Phoenix and its water struggles. An important part of the novel is a physical copy of a really-existing-in-our-world-book called 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 by Marc Reisner. Unfortunately, the novel is based on real possiblities that are expounded in 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵. I believe in a thread a while ago you mentioned Phoenix being unecological; 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 explains this well and the issues at hand, while also talking a lot about LA --- Los Angeles is at least as unecological as Phoenix, especially when you consider the money and energy that has gone into, and still goes on to this day, getting water to LA.
Thanks for your posts and thoughts. I'm going to try listening to John Luther Adams. Ever heard of Harry Partch?
I played the viola in high school, and went for my first semester of college at the music school at Indiana University...but I dropped out after the first semester. My teacher said playing was like being married, and I said, "bye".
I was the best at my viola in my high school, and the worst in my college class. I never felt I really knew how the play "in tune". All my teachers of course always talked about "playing in tune", but sometimes it was supposed to be like a piano, sometimes more flat or sharp if not with a piano...I understood the theory, but my ears didn't understand it; I thought I was tone deaf.
I actually read a bit about Partch during high school and got a CD from the library, but never listened to it. I remember reading about his 43-note "scale" but didn't understand it until about two years ago when I got back into music again after not even listening to music basically at all for about two years.
What got me back into it was a guy named Jacob Collier. He is a genius of sorts who lives with his mom in London and makes music in his bedroom. He introduced me to tuning theory, a field of music theory I wasn't familiar with. (He made an acapella version of "Moon River" by himself. He did a video where he explained his arrangement. He goes on a little tangent abou just intonation, and played a tempered and just major triad side-by-side. I heard the difference and it blew my mind. This link is timestamped to his explanation, which is about 2 minutes long: https://youtu.be/9d4-URyWEJQ?t=3913.)
Basically all of our music is in 12-tone equal temperment, but of course that is not the only was to tune. I suppose I vaguley knew about 12TET in high school, but we were never explicitly taught about or exposed to music in just intonation.
So I found Partch again after learning about just intonation and nerding out about that, learning everything I could. Of course his story of just doing it himself and making all the instruments and moving them across the country multiple times, etc. is really fascinating, and being exposed to a different sonic world, especially with primes 7 and 11.
Understanding tuning theory helped me realize that I'm not tone deaf. I got a small tanpura and learned to sing the basic 12 notes of the 5-limit scale in "just intonation". I'm thinking of trying to find a(n Indian) singing teacher and actually learn how to sing, perhaps, so maybe I'll be a musician again.
Just intonation and tuning is a really fascinating subject to me. I think it says a lot about the nature of Western Civilization and what it was often unconsciously aiming for and the compromises it took to achieve that goal. Basically we traded being in tune for being able to traverse harmonic space from anywhere to anywhere else. We traded the music of the spheres for a musical grid (harmonious ratios for the 12th root of 2). I studied N. Indian Classical music for three years, which is hardly enough to scratch the surface, but it deeply changed how I interacted with the territory of music (rather than just knowing the map). It's well worth pursuing, in my view.
Jacob Collier is astounding. What I squint to see off in the distance and quickly lose in mist, he is sitting calmly in the middle of. It will be interesting to see what he comes up with as he gets older.
Awesome it's so cool that you know all about that stuff. Since I learned about it I haven't met anyone who really understands, or cares.
I felt betrayed at first, actually, by my music teachers in high school and college. Such an important topic, and I thought I was tone deaf! They all acted like the piano was ultimate expression of intonation -- like it was easy and obvious, when really it is so complex! There is certainly a lot one could read into the topic about the state and growth of our "culture".
It is so fascinating to me how even with "only" 12 notes we do so much. I guess the same could be said our Indian classical music, only 12 notes, but so much. I'm curious though about singing ratios of 7 with a tanpura...
I am about to head out to drive across the country. Yes, I do consider myself a musician. Learning music changes the brain--and more than just the brain. It leaves its indelible mark. Whether we ever play music again or not.
I hope to pick up this conversation on the other side of my trip. -Jack
I have indeed heard of Harry Partch. I was very much into his work in college. I even went to see his music drama Revelation in the Courthouse Park performed at, I think, Lincoln Center. He has had a long term influence on me.
Thank you for the book recommend. I will check that out. -Jack
Sincerest condolences on the loss of your dear Father. I have been reading your consistently intriguing musings for some time & wanted you to know how much your words as well as your journey resonate. Yes to the work of John Luther Adams, wilderness & long live the coyote who adapts & persists. Much gratitude.
"I may be wrong of course, but the sense I get is that something resembling thinking (an inadequate word) goes on in the depths, largely outside the domain of language, and this happens whether one likes it or not".
You are not wrong. It seems "An inquiry into the good" by Nishida Kitarō will be for you.
You're welcome. It seems that William James was moving in this direction, and so was Bergson. There are a lot of threads. "Pure experience" is what inspires me, but I don't think anyone has succeeded in the wording. It's too foggy. Our language is a problem, especially the damn nouns.
Dmitry- Long ago I read--or tried to, anyway--a number of books from the Kyoto School, e.g Religion and Nothingness, The Self-Overcoming of Nihilism and also An Inquiry into the Good among a few others. At the time, though I made my way through to the end these books I wasn't sure what I had understood when I finally put them down. Recently they came back to mind.
I am groping towards what one could possibly mean by the term "radical contemplation" but this idea of thought beyond thought (aka thinking no-thought) is part of it. At least I think it is.
There’s a statistic that if everyone in the world lived like an American, we would need 4.5 Earths to sustain us (a UK lifestyle would require 3.1 Earths, a German lifestyle 2.5 Earths, an Indian lifestyle 0.4 Earths). I don’t know how accurate these calculations are, but they came to mind as I was reading your piece.
The monastery may not have fit you, yet you have clearly taken something monastic away with you. Probably it was always there. And maybe we need a new order of monks? Not those who live in monasteries, but who move freely about civilization, demonstrating a different way to live.
My dad died on the last day of 2022. I was fortunate to have been with him and talk to him in the last days of his illness in hospital. He was 89 years old. I had a difficult relationship with him at times, but in the last decade, our relationship was close even though I have been living in Europe for the past 29 years. I miss our phone conversations and emails. From time to time I would find myself thinking of sending him an email about something, then I’d realize he’s no longer here. Those are the saddest moments. I pray for his soul everyday and have masses said for him. I find a lot of comfort praying for him - during my daily Rosary, at Mass, when I pray a Novena.
I whispered the Hail Mary into his ear at the moment of his death, and a bit after.
Coyote song is one of the most beautifully haunting sounds. We used to live out in the country and most nights in winter we heard them. Now, living in a small town, very rarely I hear snatches of them on the wind. Early one morning as I stood in the garden waiting for our dog to do her business, a gorgeous big coyote trotted up the street and crossed into the field across from the house. It felt like a confirmation of sorts, so I understand how you feel about your golf course pack. Thank you, as always, for sharing your thoughts...I waffle constantly between unplugging and walking away, and sticking around. Writers like you keep the pendulum swinging towards the 'sticking around' side. Take great care of yourself Jack...I hope you have easier days ahead.
It has been a month of things hitting me a deeper levels than is usual.
You’re making a difference Jack. Thank you for writing and sharing some of your random thoughts in your difficult month.
Thank you. I hope you are well.
Peace to you, Jack .. and a poem about fathers:
"Those Winter Sundays"
By Robert Hayden
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
**
Your story reminds me a bit of Robert Johnson, who among other things (studying with Carl Jung, and traveling through India) he also spent several years as a Benedictine monk.. but also left the order after a time. He has been much in my thoughts.
Recently, I have been living in Turkey and traveling through Greece, visiting churches and monasteries, and also wrestling with the the threads (and knots) of love that bind all of these traditions together.. (Hebraic, Christian, Muslim) with all of the blood shed between these three traditions—it is a daily question for me: how to take up the threads of love that have withered in these darkening days and not repeat the mistakes of the past, how to move forward with wisdom and discernment. For me it is a very personal question..but nevertheless one with very public implications.
In regards to Old man Coyote.. two of my favorite authors who have written on the topic, worth exploring. Dan Flores "Coyote America" and Lewis Hyde "Trickster Makes This World"
Safe travels on your way...
Ian- A beautiful poem. Thank you. Those lonely, austere offices done unto the ages of ages. I don't think we can even have a clue.
It is not only a very good question, but *the* question, i.e., how to take up our mangled heritage and turn it towards what we hope is its original aim. How can we assume, under the pressure of history, that we will do any better. But we avoid facing it at our own peril...and the world's. That reckoning could turn out to be a blessing for us all. I hope so.
Safe travels to you, also. -Jack
I'm sorry for your loss. I'm also happy for you that you had the true, long lasting gift of being there with your dying father. My own dad passed 18 years ago, aged 76, from a massive brain tumor. Six weeks from discovery to death. Filling the absence left by departed presence, well, we have no training in that at all, and it's hard. Otherwise, Radical contemplation: It reminds me of the Heidegger quote that goes something like: One of the most surprising things about our most surprising times is that we are still not thinking. --I think surprising is the wrong word, but the idea is there. Radical contemplation sounds something like daring the rigors of truth, something like doing the hard work of really thinking. Most people seem to speak in the voice of common opinion which is to speak without thinking at all. To actually think takes time, reflection, analysis, the opening up of awareness, work. I'd go for it as a radical act.
Claudia-
Thank you. Yes, and it was a gift to have been there. It has planted something in me, I think, but I don't yet know what. Maybe that's another gift. We shall see.
I also don't really fully know what I mean by radical contemplation but it seems worth fathoming. I think it *is* that fathoming. I have long felt, as you say, that what we usually call thinking isn't thinking at all. We may--or may not--end up with a system of syllogisms, but that isn't the hear of thinking either, but merely a way of presenting it, or trying to. Many of us are taking inspiration from Iain McGilchrist, and so do I. But there are other sources that I have mentioned in past essays. It finds its beginning and its depths in stillness and silence and what may start to bubble up from there. It is an old way, but in our technological age, one we have turned into stress relief technique, rather than a fundamental shift in how we are, and how we are in the world.
That's the best I can do at the moment. I hope you are well. -Jack
Throughout it all, the Coyote. The trickster. I think they were telling you something because of your reaction to them. I am aware that my reality is created by my mind and that this world doesn't actually exist anywhere except in our mind. Our collective mind and our private mind keep the illusion going. This is a very important clue as to how to deal with things and I wish I knew more than that, but as yet I do not. All I know is that if a particle can be in two places at the same time - something Quantum physics has proven - was it Bell? - then space time does not exist outside our brains.
I think you are right. They are here to tell us something.
My condolences. It is, like you say, a raw thing to lose your father.
Br. F-
Thank you. This well is deep and not always easy to see the bottom, or the springs that feed it.
-Jack
Dear Jack,
I am so sorry for your loss and send my condolences and prayers. I will pray also for God to lead you onwards, best wishes Rick
Rick- Thank you for your prayers for my father. And for me as well. The way forward is not exactly clear. I hope you are doing well. -Jack
>”I have been listening to the music of John Luther Adams lately ...”
Have you heard any of his “Become ...” series? I think there are 3: “Become Ocean”, “Become Ricer”, and “Become Desert” ... excellent in my opinion.
I have. I have been, shall we say, a bit enamored with his Become Desert over the past year or two. I think it is a masterpiece. I was just listening to it today as I crossed--what else?--the desert. I need to dig deeper into Become Ocean.
I'm so sorry to hear about your father, Jack. I'll add you and your family to my prayers. May God be with you and comfort you in this time.
Sending good thoughts you and your father's way.
Quakeress
I'm sorry for your loss, Jack. May your father's memory be eternal.
Thank you for your writing about your father. I have never lossed anyone so close to me. I am 34 and currently live with my father, who is not in bad health and I expect to be around for a while...though as you mentioned, nothing is ever certain. I expect to be nearby for his passing, and that is something to contemplate over the years.
Concerning point 5., there is a really excellent novel I read a few years ago called 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘒𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 by Paolo Bacigalupi...about near-future Phoenix and its water struggles. An important part of the novel is a physical copy of a really-existing-in-our-world-book called 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 by Marc Reisner. Unfortunately, the novel is based on real possiblities that are expounded in 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵. I believe in a thread a while ago you mentioned Phoenix being unecological; 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 explains this well and the issues at hand, while also talking a lot about LA --- Los Angeles is at least as unecological as Phoenix, especially when you consider the money and energy that has gone into, and still goes on to this day, getting water to LA.
Thanks for your posts and thoughts. I'm going to try listening to John Luther Adams. Ever heard of Harry Partch?
Are you a musician? What are your thoughts on Partch?
I played the viola in high school, and went for my first semester of college at the music school at Indiana University...but I dropped out after the first semester. My teacher said playing was like being married, and I said, "bye".
I was the best at my viola in my high school, and the worst in my college class. I never felt I really knew how the play "in tune". All my teachers of course always talked about "playing in tune", but sometimes it was supposed to be like a piano, sometimes more flat or sharp if not with a piano...I understood the theory, but my ears didn't understand it; I thought I was tone deaf.
I actually read a bit about Partch during high school and got a CD from the library, but never listened to it. I remember reading about his 43-note "scale" but didn't understand it until about two years ago when I got back into music again after not even listening to music basically at all for about two years.
What got me back into it was a guy named Jacob Collier. He is a genius of sorts who lives with his mom in London and makes music in his bedroom. He introduced me to tuning theory, a field of music theory I wasn't familiar with. (He made an acapella version of "Moon River" by himself. He did a video where he explained his arrangement. He goes on a little tangent abou just intonation, and played a tempered and just major triad side-by-side. I heard the difference and it blew my mind. This link is timestamped to his explanation, which is about 2 minutes long: https://youtu.be/9d4-URyWEJQ?t=3913.)
Basically all of our music is in 12-tone equal temperment, but of course that is not the only was to tune. I suppose I vaguley knew about 12TET in high school, but we were never explicitly taught about or exposed to music in just intonation.
So I found Partch again after learning about just intonation and nerding out about that, learning everything I could. Of course his story of just doing it himself and making all the instruments and moving them across the country multiple times, etc. is really fascinating, and being exposed to a different sonic world, especially with primes 7 and 11.
Understanding tuning theory helped me realize that I'm not tone deaf. I got a small tanpura and learned to sing the basic 12 notes of the 5-limit scale in "just intonation". I'm thinking of trying to find a(n Indian) singing teacher and actually learn how to sing, perhaps, so maybe I'll be a musician again.
Josh-
Just intonation and tuning is a really fascinating subject to me. I think it says a lot about the nature of Western Civilization and what it was often unconsciously aiming for and the compromises it took to achieve that goal. Basically we traded being in tune for being able to traverse harmonic space from anywhere to anywhere else. We traded the music of the spheres for a musical grid (harmonious ratios for the 12th root of 2). I studied N. Indian Classical music for three years, which is hardly enough to scratch the surface, but it deeply changed how I interacted with the territory of music (rather than just knowing the map). It's well worth pursuing, in my view.
Jacob Collier is astounding. What I squint to see off in the distance and quickly lose in mist, he is sitting calmly in the middle of. It will be interesting to see what he comes up with as he gets older.
I could talk on and on about tuning. -Jack
Awesome it's so cool that you know all about that stuff. Since I learned about it I haven't met anyone who really understands, or cares.
I felt betrayed at first, actually, by my music teachers in high school and college. Such an important topic, and I thought I was tone deaf! They all acted like the piano was ultimate expression of intonation -- like it was easy and obvious, when really it is so complex! There is certainly a lot one could read into the topic about the state and growth of our "culture".
It is so fascinating to me how even with "only" 12 notes we do so much. I guess the same could be said our Indian classical music, only 12 notes, but so much. I'm curious though about singing ratios of 7 with a tanpura...
Do you consider yourself to be a musician?
I am about to head out to drive across the country. Yes, I do consider myself a musician. Learning music changes the brain--and more than just the brain. It leaves its indelible mark. Whether we ever play music again or not.
I hope to pick up this conversation on the other side of my trip. -Jack
Josh-
I have indeed heard of Harry Partch. I was very much into his work in college. I even went to see his music drama Revelation in the Courthouse Park performed at, I think, Lincoln Center. He has had a long term influence on me.
Thank you for the book recommend. I will check that out. -Jack
Sincerest condolences on the loss of your dear Father. I have been reading your consistently intriguing musings for some time & wanted you to know how much your words as well as your journey resonate. Yes to the work of John Luther Adams, wilderness & long live the coyote who adapts & persists. Much gratitude.
Yes, to it all. And yes to whole new set of yeses than the ones we have been given. But some of those too.
Thank you for your kind words, A D. I hope you are well. -Jack
"I may be wrong of course, but the sense I get is that something resembling thinking (an inadequate word) goes on in the depths, largely outside the domain of language, and this happens whether one likes it or not".
You are not wrong. It seems "An inquiry into the good" by Nishida Kitarō will be for you.
Link: https://archive.org/details/inquiryintogood0000nish/page/n9/mode/2up
I think I am going to want to read the Kyoto school again. Thank you for the reminder.
You're welcome. It seems that William James was moving in this direction, and so was Bergson. There are a lot of threads. "Pure experience" is what inspires me, but I don't think anyone has succeeded in the wording. It's too foggy. Our language is a problem, especially the damn nouns.
Dmitry- Long ago I read--or tried to, anyway--a number of books from the Kyoto School, e.g Religion and Nothingness, The Self-Overcoming of Nihilism and also An Inquiry into the Good among a few others. At the time, though I made my way through to the end these books I wasn't sure what I had understood when I finally put them down. Recently they came back to mind.
I am groping towards what one could possibly mean by the term "radical contemplation" but this idea of thought beyond thought (aka thinking no-thought) is part of it. At least I think it is.
-Jack
There’s a statistic that if everyone in the world lived like an American, we would need 4.5 Earths to sustain us (a UK lifestyle would require 3.1 Earths, a German lifestyle 2.5 Earths, an Indian lifestyle 0.4 Earths). I don’t know how accurate these calculations are, but they came to mind as I was reading your piece.
The monastery may not have fit you, yet you have clearly taken something monastic away with you. Probably it was always there. And maybe we need a new order of monks? Not those who live in monasteries, but who move freely about civilization, demonstrating a different way to live.
This is a very intriguing idea. Maybe the time is ripe for such a thing.