[The day doesn't turn over until I'm asleep. I wake up in two hours.]
Lonely, the monk trudges up snow-slammed ridges to come to his mountain home. Ascetic. Neophyte. Solitary. Dedicated. The poor monk, always a man. Never a woman. What woman chooses solitude for her spiritual and emotional healing, unless she's hiding in a crowd?
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Well, if today is any indication, I do.
ReplyDeleteThen again, our conversation helped, too.
I cannot help thinking of witches.
Wait, you have to get up at four? Why? Is this normal?
ReplyDeleteI wrote it at four. Time zones apparently don't work on the Internet and it's lyIng to you.
ReplyDeleteOkay. Still, two hours' sleep sounds brutal. I hope your day is good, regardless. I hope you get sleep.
ReplyDeleteYes, and it's rather lonely hiding in the crowd. One learns to do it at a young age, and then it's difficult to stop.
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