just like a monk…

by tobias crabtree

from a letter to dave…who is more like a monk than me, but then again, who’s checking anyway? (love you, dave)

i went to the river, just like a monk. i ran barefooted, just like a monk. i intentionally meditated (rare occurrence), just like a monk. i drank cold water, just like a monk. i sat under the sky and watched the trees that were pushed by the wind. i took my clothes off and sat in the river that ran from the mountains that hold the snow. i watched some little songbird sing on the stump of a ponderosa that was probably around when america was not america but was named something else by some other people that lived here. i watched a mother goose and a daddy goose with 9 goslings that were the color of gold mixed with green ( the strangest thing). i soaped up in the river and cleaned myself the old way and realized how i’m living like some person from another time or another place or both….all these things i did like a monk. but i’m not one. no, i’m sure not. know how i know? because monks do not continue to doubt the entire shit show that they see around them. monks have a bigger grasp. i just grasp at a whole lot of nothing….then i drink a glass or two of whiskey and go to bed and wake up in pain and drink some coffee and ice my aching body and start it over again. long live my little forgetful mind! i’m not a monk. no…not at all.


tonight i talked to a fella that’s 63 years old. he’s a blacksmith and he’s pretty bitter about people. i don’t blame him but he’s probably overreacting a little. i mean, people do suck but they also pay the big price, you know, the one that starts with “d” and ends with “eath”…and besides, i’m people too and i suck sometimes (sometimes a lot). we talked about stuff and then we started talking about ballistics. man, did he love it. hours went by and when we were done he was excited to speak again. he had things to say that i didn’t agree with so i just stayed quiet. it was nice to see him shine.  he was interested and spoke more freely than most other times.  when we were done i saw a sparkle in his eye that i hadn’t seen in him before.


i know why the sparkle. it is a re-kindling. it is a rejuvenation of things that might have been given up for dead.  it is the realization that life is so godamn short and that the time we have should be ,at the least, worth our while…and i do like being here.


so i’m not a monk. i’m just a dude….abiding.   t.