As with any good story, it’s important to pay attention to where we are. “This is wilderness,” the text reads at the very beginning. To put it another way, “This is the nowhere.” … More This is wilderness.
It started simply. It was subtle and in pieces. First, my hands: I watched my fingers uncurl and my palms rest on top of one another; two hands opening to beckon bread from the priest. Then my legs as they bent, how my knees would catch me on the kneeler as we prayed. Soon after I realized I had a forehead, a chest, and two shoulders to cross, and arms to swing my hands in order to do it. … More Liturgical body
“So,” I said playfully, knowing he wouldn’t answer, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
…and finally one day he said, “A monk.”
“Oh.” … More …world without end.
Little Scribbley 