Toronto, Ontario
Another Century
I should have asked for his name. He was precious. Connor and I were on a mid-afternoon walk through Rosedale when an elderly gentleman in a trench-coat and hat, and carrying two bags of light groceries, came to a full stop to look at my monk's clothes.
"That must be really warm," he assumed.
"Well, yes it is and walking keeps me warm." I handed him a Walking Monk card.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked.
"From an ashram, a monastery."
"Well, I'm 99, and I'm ready to go (as in leaving this world). Is there anything I can learn from your place?"
"Surely. We say that we are not these bodies; that we are spirits, and that we have an obligation to the supreme spirit," I said as I pointed up above us to the blue sky with the odd white cloud. I told him of our scrumptious food and how he's invited. We had more exchanges, but of all the sights and sounds Connor and I encountered, in this very settled neighbourhood of gorgeous homes and mature trees, our friend stood out.
He was light-humoured, old and wise, a collectors item. I'm glad there's still people like him around. I know his type and could have spent a couple of hours with him. As I said, he's precious. I hope he lives another century. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bvv33FAgjs6/?utm_source=ig_share_sheet&igshid=wsyr5pmlaqt
May the Source be with him and you!
7 km
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