Friday, 26 June 2020

Tuesday, June 23, 2020



Nice Talk at the Dentist’s


I did walk a piece today. I did wait a piece today—in the dentist clinic waiting room. A woman in front of me, age sixty, brunette to red hair—ponytailed—at the inquiry desk, left her queue to sit down. I followed.


“So you’re a monk?” she began.


“What order?”

“Hare Krishna!”

“Oh yeah! Why the colour?”

“This saffron tone is reserved for celibate monks. It’s a colour worn before one’s married, and after retirement. I never got married. I’ve had this colour all these years.”

“When did you join?”

“Age twenty.”

“It was your calling?”

“Definitely,” I said.

“My father was a minister. It was his calling. He knew at age fourteen. He ministered in Kenya. Everyone thought he was crazy. A Scotsman he was.”

I was curious. “Was he Presbyterian?”

“He started off but then he became non-denominational.”


The dialogue went on.

“I adopted kids from Africa. I have a few.”


She definitely was no monk, or nun, but a conversationalist, yes. I wanted to continue on but was asked to go for my dental cleaning.


“Well, I’m being called. Nice to talk to you!”

“Likewise!” she said.


May the Source be with you!

6 km

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