I've had difficulty explaining this in the past, but this image from postsecret.com revealed how simple it is to just say it.
The monastic life appeals to me. I enjoy solitude, I enjoy silent contemplation. I would make a very good monk, I think.
Only problem is, I am not religious.
I dropped out of college in 2001 with the very specific goal of becoming a monk. I was going to join The Brothers and Sisters of Charity, a Catholic monastic community. Because my beliefs allow an appreciation of different perspectives, I figured being a Catholic monk was as good as anything.
This is how I learned about cognitive dissonance first-hand. At first I thought something was wrong with me. I felt ill, uneasy--was I entering a new phase of depression? Was I sick? But after several months and a conversation with Michael, I realized I was just trying to believe something I genuinely did not believe. My mental faculties were affecting my physical faculties. Or at least, this theory explains why I no longer felt this un-ease the day after I decided to not become a Catholic monk.
And then I floated aimlessly--by this point I had entered management at a store in Nashville, and I was dating Katie. I still followed my philosophical interests, but entertaining the idea that I would marry Katie effectively nullified the idea that I'd be a monk.
And then madness--my depression became an insurmountable obstacle. I had gotten stuck in a rut, and generally thought, "I'll do what's important later." Living a life without meaning, it turned out, meant I found life to be (duh) meaningless.
Kate had gone to London and, even though we still suspected we'd still get married, we weren't together any longer. A serendipitous trip to Bridgeport had redirected me to Buddhist studies, and to The Nyingma Institute.
The rest of the story is long, and is just a story. The fact of the matter is, I still feel like this is the life I'm best suited for, and I don't know how to live it. Nyingma is still an attractive idea, but Berkeley is not on my radar right now. The question is not, where can I go to live like this? It is, how can I live like this, everywhere I am?
It's easy to have a goal, when there's an established path (e.g., If I were Catholic, I could follow the example of other Catholic monks). But without a literal role-model, I am not sure what I'm looking to become.
My beliefs, at least, tell me that I will become whatever I become, and that if I "follow my heart," then I'll continue to be where I want to be.
So far, so good.
1 comment:
Wow. This is going to sound bizarre, but I can completely relate to this.
I always thought being a nun seemed so much like something I wanted; I remember trying to find out once as a kid whether there were Protestant nuns, since that's the faith I was raised in.
Of course, it also helped that I had zero interest in sex as a teenager. I outgrew that bit.
But the part that remains is because I admire the dedication. The simplicity. The singular, framable purpose. The accomplishment of living a single thing, and living it fully, decrying all worldly influence.
There are Zen monastaries. Have you looked into those?
I've always been tempted, but too chicken to make the jump. And also ironically, perhaps, I do most closely associate with Unitarianism, now, as an adult. I went through just about all of the world religions before landing there, where they're all equally valued. (For people in this town, for reasons I'm sure you understand, I just call myself a "Christian pagan" and leave them to wonder. It runs off the fundies, but gets kindred spirits to ask. Works perfectly.)
Anyway, this is your blog, and not mine, so this is me, shutting up.
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