I'm not a monk, but the time I most feel like one is walking down the mountain road carrying my laundry bag over my shoulder. I find myself thinking about other spiritual seekers over the centuries who have walked tree-lined paths, through the forests of Japan or Europe, and realizing that though I'm by myself, I'm not alone.
This life is like any other life: I can't do it alone, and at the same time, no one else can do it for me.
Our culture values individuality and independence. We're not often asked to think about how much are lives have been, and continue to be, made possible by others.
Try it. It's a powerful experience.
We travel roads paved by those who have come before, and there are many even now that support our journeys in ways both obvious and subtle.
None of those people though, can take a single step for us. Only we can choose the road to our own happiness, and only we can walk it.
It's always valuable for me to be reminded that I'm not the only person in the world, and I'm not living in the only time that does, has, or ever will matter.
And at the same time, this is who I am. This is where I am. This is what I have.
How then, to make the most of it?
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