I should consider doing screen grabs of films as well as my own photography here. That’s not a bad idea. I watched a video of a monk last night. I was sdoing that and working on a project so I forgot to write this blog, so I’m doing it now. 

The monk had moved from what I assume was metropolitan Australia to the deserts of Egypt. He moved into the same caves where Saint Anthony started monasticism some Two hundred and fifty years after the birth of Christ. 

To become a monk remains difficult. 

And that might be the most interesting thing. That monk, and all monks, have let go of everything. That’s the ideal. Their pride, their careers, their sexual-romance, their posessions at times, everything but their worship and love for God. 

And this monk in the cave talked about how difficult it was to let go of things, chiefly the wounds of his heart. This lat thing, this thing that we should all want to be rid of, even that was painful to part with. 

There’s an orthodox thought that Heaven and Hell are the same thing. When we are without our bodies we are exposed to the blinding countenance of the Lord, which melts everything away. If we attempt to cling to what we were and what we had instead of joining Him, those things are burned away from us. If we welcome it, and likely have been preparing ourselves for it, it is a a warm homecoming akin to walking in from the cold to our hearth. 

The reality is that we will lose it all. Our homes, our children, our careers, our cars, our bodies and our minds. Anything we have ever cared about will turn to dust, except for one thing, if we choose it. 

It’s a hard pill, and we take it in drams every day with no say in the matter at all. 

The only way forward is through.