The life of a monk is so much about building bridges and closing gaps. The endeavour one takes is to connect jivas to the Divine; bringing two worlds together.
I have always admired bridges—those who engineer, those who construct and also those who repair them—while on my walking travels. I had a flashback of men at work on bridges over the Fraser, in Hope, British Columbia, in the rain.
There are many kinds of bridges. One is for the mouth, as in dentures. At noon, over lunch, my temporary bridge broke off. Fortunately, I was able to secure an appointment by the evening for a repair job. The appointment ended up being a bit of a disappointment. It wasn’t so securely set in and I only noticed this upon my return home.
Before I arrived I took an evening walk from Eglinton and Yonge, back to the ashram. I looked up in the night sky and could clearly see Jupiter in front of me, and more faintly was Saturn to his side. Way above the city lights, and to the south, they sat there, giving inspiration.
Businesses that operate bars, cafés and such have areas of the street blocked off. People must have their drinks, I guess. I like the fact that folks are outdoors for air and under canopies while the sun is out. However, I question the drinking.
As I walked southbound, as a solo monk, those taking to the drinks couldn’t help noticing my saffron robes. I believe it triggers one to think spiritually, even if only for a moment. In this regard I like to think of myself as a small link, or a small bridge.
Source: http://thewalkingmonk.blogspot.com/2020/08/thursday-august-20-2020.html
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