So seriously, that whole monkish thing is reallllllly calling to me lately.

This isn't a new feeling.

I was the only guy in junior high I knew who said he wanted to be a monk.

Seriously....

Mike would just look at me and shake his head and then after that moment of seriousness we would go back to our usual goofing off.

No, no REALLY.

And yes it's been on my mind more and more lately.

The thing is, can monks take vacations?

No, like I want to go to one of those totally cloistered monasteries where you wake at like 4 for hours of meditation, and then work hard till night fall.

But I totally want time off to just like leave and go visit my family, all long bearded and earthy smelling.

And my belly would be bigger, and it would jiggle when I laughed.

And my grand nieces and nephews would climb into my lap.

And I would fold their hands in mine and teach them the ways of prayer.

And they would snuggle into my belly and close their eyes as I �paint' their eyebrows, and softly coo them to sleep.

Quietly singing to them in that voice that only me, myself, and I have heard. That voice that dissipates when ANY other is around.

And Mom and I would lovingly tend her roses their side by side down on our knees, scratching a coffee can of our secret organic fertilizer around each rose 3 times a year, and burying our banana peels and eggs shells at their feet as little offerings. Asking only that they reward us with their nearly Devine aroma, and poofy, tissue soft blossoms. I would lovingly tend moms roses and her grand front yard butterfly and hummingbird garden. And we would be silent together as we often are. Just being. Together in their garden. And I'd sit cross legged their amongst the roses and next to the redbud tree, letting it's dappled shade and their aroma waft over me as I meditated and offered up my silent prayers.

And when I go home this is what I would look like.

madrigle: sometimes I want to crop my hair.

madrigle: let my beard grow long

kuinileti: ooooo

kuinileti: hehe

madrigle76: where tunics and billowing slacks

kuinileti: lolololol

kuinileti: i can totally see that

madrigle: keep my glasses around my neck on a beaded chain

madrigle: get pedicures and where sandals all the time

kuinileti: are you writing this??? dammit???

And I'd be a silversmith by trade.

Making reliquaries and rosaries for the monks and for sale to help support the monastery.

And in the evenings I'd concoct oils and ointments to sooth callused hands.

I'd like that.

Living among men in a celibate way.

Developing relationships, not lusts.

Friendships, not partnerships.

And we would break crusty stone ground bread over bowls of simple lentil soups.

I'm serious.

If I ever become brave enough, this is very well the path I could choose for my life.