Something else struck me about the way the monks lived. At Christmas, after they had celebrated the mass, they had a special dinner. They drank wine and talked and listened to Tchaikovsky. You could see in their faces how much the occasion meant to them.
It reminded me of a time in my life when everything seemed like too much--too many dinners out, too many concerts, too many books, too much stimulation. I wasn’t eagerly anticipating anything; whatever it was, was just the next thing to do. I needed to get off the assembly line and live more mindfully. Do less and relish it more. Some people like to keep busy; I have to have days when I have nothing planned.
So what’s the challenge? Maybe just to think about the things you own that are necessary to you now, and others whose Time has passed, but will still be here when you’ve gone. It would be better to do something with them now than to leave them for someone else to decide about.