come, go, stay

When this girl was working for The First Company (the first organization she worked for) she met The Monk- who, of course, wasn’t a monk then, but was, quite simply, another close friend. He was a great guy, a funny guy with a sense of humour and the biggest heart you could imagine in a bear of a man. Smart, earnest, generous; he was the epitome of everyone’s favourite uncle, everyone’s best buddy. He was the rock many leaned on, the one who would never judge you for the stupid things that you’d do and the one who would stay back, without anyone asking, to clean up, long after.

Yes, he was that guy.

A few years ago, this said friend gave up his high powered job in a high powered firm for the saffron robe. He entered a Thai monastery for what would be a short stint as a monk, only to find that new life so fulfilling, three years on, he has no plans to return to the world of corporate back biting and the ugly rat race. Though, seriously, who can blame him?

A few days ago, The Monk dropped by- a rare appearance from his forest monastery and this girl and The Boy went by for a visit with Kungfu Master, Aunty B and Monkey God. The monastery was a surreal space of zen quietness echoing with the humming of an ancient- albeit a little foreign- peace. Hushed voices, slightly bowed heads and the odd snatches of incense that at the same time pinched the senses and clouded the mind. And so, half sitting, half kneeling- because this girl didn’t quite know how to sit without her feet pointing to The Monk (it’s considered rude and inappropriate)- she sat in respectful reverence for her old friend.

He was half the size the last time this girl met him, and twice the person. He had the same smile, the same vocal inflections and the same sparkle in his eyes. He spoke with the same ease, as though it was only yesterday they had last met; and shared with the wisdom of a man who seemed to have lived three lifetimes over.

“When you reach a stage in life, ” he said, “You come to the realization that there are only three real states of being: Coming. Going. Staying.”

“Then, ” he continues, “You reach the next stage in life and you realize there are really only two real states of being: Coming. Going.”

“Finally, ” he enthused with the innocence of a sage and the wisdom of the child, “You reach the final stage in life and you realize, actually, there’s only one state of being: Coming and going. “

This girl didn’t quite understand, but it was a cool ass piece of advice.