The monk life
When I was in college, a part of me half-seriously thought I could live as a hermit or a monk. It seemed fitting enough: I could handle and even preferred solitude, and the idea of turning away from the world seemed simultaneously romantic and cool. I liked spending time alone reading or thinking or just daydreaming, and none of the proffered spoils quite convinced me to vie with everybody else out in society's sweaty, chaotic arena.
Like all the rest of my batch though, I finished college and graduated into the real world. I didn't have any strong moral or spiritual convictions to speak of, so I found myself going along with the flow anyway and entering a career of full-time employment. Here I am to this day, and I honestly don't regret any of the circumstances and decisions that led me here.
Sometimes a part of me still entertains the idea of withdrawing from the world, gaining physical distance and erecting mental boundaries to retreat behind into an entirely different life of thought, reflection, and freedom.
Thankfully all my other, bigger parts know better by now, after more than ten years: life is not a single-player game and could never be. Teamwork and cooperation towards common goals; friendship and fun, amazing experiences I could never have had alone; and the clincher for me, the joys of every day building and growing a life together with my loving wife.
While life is in fact not about wealth or fame or societal success, it is undeniably enriched and deepened when shared with others, even for a born introvert like myself. (Sometimes I wish I had realized that sooner and opened up a bit more a bit earlier!)
This essay is part of a month-long series of 30 essays.