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6 unexpected and life-changing things I learned while living in a monastery.

One man explains what it's really like to live in a monastery.

In 2010, a medication-resistant form of epilepsy terrorized me.

Facing the prospect of a near-permanent state of illness, I longed for respite. I needed something — anything — to calm me down.

I had been reading the works of Christian and Buddhist monks for years, but I had never actually visited a monastery.


So I decided in a moment of panic: Why not take a retreat to a monastic community?

I knew there were some monasteries in the U.S. that invited guests to visit, so I contacted a monastery I had been following and arranged for a five-day retreat.

The view from the retreat center at the monastery. Photo by Tim Lawrence, used with permission.

During my first visit, I found myself surrounded by some of the most loving men I had ever encountered. To my delight, many of my epileptic symptoms subsided during my stay, too. I wasn’t cured by any means, but the lack of stress and centering nature of the monastery seemed to temporarily clothe me in a blanket of inner peace that I desperately needed.

And after the first retreat, I longed to have the chance to experience what this monastic life was truly like for more than a few days. After several more short retreats, I came across a program at a monastery in Boston that allowed just that.

With a handful of young people, I prepared to live alongside monks for nine months.

When I walked into the monastery on that first day, I was nervous. I had no idea what to expect. But by the time I left, I couldn't imagine my life without that time spent at the monastery.

The experience both frustrated me and blew me away: It forced me to confront my fears, examine my motivations, and take stock of how I really lived my life in a way that no other experience ever had.

Here are a few of the things I learned:

1. Living in silence is really powerful.

After the last service of the day, called the Greater Silence, complete silence was observed for 12 hours until the morning. Although the community members did speak during the day, both the monks and residents were encouraged to keep our speaking to a minimum in order to preserve an atmosphere of mindfulness and refuge for both the community and its guests.

Unexpectedly, this quiet is what I have missed most since leaving.

At the monastery, I was more present in the moment. When my dear friend Amelia lost a loved one, I found myself far more available to her. When my friend Daniel and I found ourselves with the opportunity to talk for extended periods of time during breaks at the monastery, we spoke to each other more slowly, and with far more honesty, than we normally would in the outside world.

What I learned is that silence forced me to change because I was actually living differently. I became more confident because I was less inclined to seek out the approval of others through empty words. I also chose my words carefully when I did speak, and I spoke with more authority.

2. I felt less lonely than I thought I would.

I initially worried that being cloistered at the monastery would cause me to be intensely lonely. However, although I was disconnected from the outside world for much of the time, I felt less lonely than I had in the "real world."

Why? I think it’s because the monastic community nourished me and loved me with abandon. The fact that I felt so grounded much of the time was a testament to the power of people actively connecting with one another, with intention.

3. Living minimally was freeing.

I had been living as a nomad with few possessions before I went to the monastery, but I had never embraced anything resembling a vow of poverty. And although I wasn’t obligated to partake in a formal vow of poverty, I still chose to live as simply as possible while I was there.

When you live with few possessions in a sparse, basic cell, your need for "things" dissipates rapidly. You become more adaptable, and you find that rather than trying to attain more, you learn to want what you already have. I found this to be liberating and beautiful.

4. Giving up some personal freedom for the sake of community wasn’t stifling.

In our rampantly individualistic culture, it’s easy to prize personal freedom above all else. Yet when you live in community, the needs of the community are placed above the desires of the individual. This was incredibly challenging and freeing for me because I was often asked to forego some of my own desires for the sake of the community.

I couldn’t dash off whenever I wanted, and I was expected to be present for all community activities, so I had to become willing to sacrifice some of my own selfishness in order to serve my peers. I was a part of something larger than myself, and that meant that I had to shed some of my self-absorption for the sake of others every single day.

5. My appreciation of time shifted.

The writer Sarah Manguso has said, "Time isn’t made of moments; it contains moments. There is more to it than moments."

I never understood this until I saw it in the monastery. In monastic life there’s always a "next thing" — another activity to devote one’s focus to over and over again. Whether I was chanting or eating a meal, I was expected to be fully present there, and then to let it go once it was over. Because the days were so structured, I was forced to become one with the moments I was experiencing; the "next thing" always demanded my full attention.

Time is taken more seriously as a resource in a monastery, which is something I took with me after I left.

6. Most of the spiritual "myths" about monasteries aren’t true.

I quickly found that many of my assumptions about monastic life were wrong. Contrary to what some people might think, living with monks isn’t a series of mountaintop experiences where you’re free to deepen your spirituality unimpeded by the difficulties of daily life.

In fact, the grind of life can be even more present in a monastery because everyone is expected to contribute in a series of repetitive duties. Monastic life is rhythmical, and monks hold that rhythm sacred. All services, meals, and chores are held at specific times with only occasional deviation.

To my surprise, this rhythm served as a great catalyst for personal transformation, though. In monastic life, I was taught not to separate "spiritual" time from "normal" time but to explore the vagaries of my spiritual life precisely when I was doing mundane, trivial work. This turned out to not only be enriching but life-changing.

My moments of greatest peace and transcendence came when I was cleaning out a kitchen or raking leaves or sitting in a chapel, alone, reflecting on my infinitesimal place in the world.

I learned to feel adequate in what could easily be described as an inadequate setting.

The transition out of the monastery wasn’t easy.

I left early because of my epilepsy; the long 16-hour days took a toll on me. I remember going to New York shortly after leaving and feeling a strong sense of panic: I was panicked because everyone else seemed so panicked. Society seemed strained to me, and I had a difficult time adjusting to "civilian life" again.

It took a few months to find my footing and to retain my monastic identity in a world that seems to place so much value on what monasticism has little need for — namely: status, wealth, and success.

But shortly before I left, the wisest monk I know told me something that made me weep, something that I will take with me everywhere: He said that I was a walking miracle.

This stopped me in my tracks because his words showed that he had chosen to love me as unconditionally as an imperfect, fragile human is capable of. This is a rare thing.

Me with the superior at the monastery. Photo via Tim Lawrence, used with permission.

My experience in the monastery revealed more of our human ability to love and be loved than I've ever seen before.

I was forced to evaluate how I related to the world not just for a day, but continually. I didn’t rise above all of my weaknesses or transform my entire life, but that was OK. I am deeply indebted to my fellow brothers and residents for caring for me so thoroughly.

In the end, I found the courage to experience being alive differently. The change was subtle yet profound, and I will carry that with me forever.

A waiter talking with his hands.

One of the great things about America is that we have a relatively young culture, so many of the foods that we eat were brought over from other countries. That makes America a great place to try out all the different types of food from around the world.

However, we also like to put our own stamp on staples from around the globe that give the American version its own unique flair. Some foods that we claim originated overseas were actually first made right here in the U.S. of A. For example, chimichangas, which can be found in many Mexican restaurants, actually originated in the state of Arizona. Crab Rangoon, a popular “Chinese” dish, was actually invented in San Francisco, and spaghetti and meatballs were never a thing in Italy.

TikTok creator Gabby Donahue posted a video that’s the perfect example of how some ethnic foods get remixed once they become popular in the States. In a video with over 7 million views, her father shows a waiter in Italy a photo of chicken parmesan from Olive Garden so he can order it at the restaurant. The waiter's reaction is an excellent example of someone trying to be polite while he cannot believe what he is seeing.

“My Boston Irish father trying to order a Google image of the Olive Garden chicken parm in Italy,” Donahue wrote in the text overlay.

@gabbydonahuee

@Olive Garden ‘s biggest fan 😭😭😭😭 #italy #cultureshock #chickenparm #olivegarden


When the father showed the picture to the waiter, he seemed a bit confused about the image. “Only in the States,” he said. “It doesn’t exist in Italy.” The father couldn’t believe what he was hearing: “It doesn’t exist in Italy?”

“I don’t know what it is…on the pasta?” the waiter said, trying to make sense of the chicken breast smothered in cheese and sauce. The waiter gave his final verdict while holding his chin: “No. That’s horrible.”

“Horrible? Wow. Look at that. That doesn’t,” the father laughed. “That looks good… but,” the waiter shrugged off the father. “It does look good,” the father continued. “It tastes good. I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna mail you some. I’ll send it to you.”

“Okay? Olive Garden chicken, I’m gonna search,” the waiter said, walking away from the table.


The commenters had a field day analyzing the waiter’s body language. “‘No, that looks good’ while looking completely disgusted was the most Italian reaction ever,” one commenter wrote. “Bro remembered halfway through his disgust that he’s at work,” another added.

It’s not crazy that an American would think that chicken parmesan is an Italian dish; after all, it’s served in most Italian-American restaurants. However, according to Paesana, it was created in America by the Italian diaspora.

“In the Old World, that’s Italy prior to the Italian diaspora—the large-scale emigration of Italians from Italy to America—proteins like chicken were not widely available," according to an article on the site. "As such, the prototypical chicken parmigiana was actually made with breaded, fried slices of eggplant in place of chicken for a dish called melanzane alla Parmigiana."


Even though chicken parmesan didn’t originate in the old country, Pasquale Sciarappa, a popular Italian-born food influencer living in America, has no problem cooking the dish.

"'That’s not Italian!’ I hear this every time I share a dish like Chicken Parmigiana. And you know what? They’re right — it’s not something you’d traditionally find in Italy. But you know what else is true? It’s Italian-American. It was born in immigrant kitchens — from people who left Italy, landed in the U.S., and made do with what they had. They took inspiration from dishes like melanzane alla parmigiana and recreated comfort from memory using what was available,” he wrote.

It’s understandable that an American could go to Italy without knowing that something he’d had in Italian restaurants wasn’t actually from Italy. It’s understandable for an Italian server to balk at a photo of a dish served in an American restaurant that you’d find in a shopping mall.

But we should all agree that one of the wonderful things about American culture is that it's an amalgamation of different cultures stirred around in the same pot, and if that means we get a fresh variation on the burrito, a new way to eat Chinese crab, or a tasty piece of chicken where eggplant used to be, the more the better.

Education

Stop struggling with small talk by using the easy 'COST method'

This simple acronym will make your next social gathering a lot more enjoyable.

A man and woman chatting at a dinner party.

There are several reasons why people are hesitant to engage in small talk at a party or around the water cooler at work. Some people simply avoid it because they don’t find chatting about the weather, sports, or what they saw on television the night before very interesting.

Others are afraid that they may run out of things to say or that there will be an awkward pause that makes them want to hide their head in the sand, like an ostrich. Mary, a friendship educator with a degree in interpersonal communication, has a solution for those of us who want to be friendly and meet people but abhor small talk; she calls it the COST method.

What is the COST method for making small talk?

According to Mary, who goes by @better.social.skills on TikTok, COST stands for Compliment, Observation, Story, and Tip. These are four options you can turn to when you're in need of a conversation topic.

@better.social.skills

Remember the acronym C.O.S.T. and you’ll always have something to talk about at parties or events. C stands for compliment. Tell somebody you like their shirt or shoes, for example, and see where the conversation leads. O stands for observation. Remark on something happening around you, like if you enjoy the music or feel a certain way about the weather. A stands for story, in which you share a little anecdote about yourself. For example, maybe you were late to the party for some reason, or you’re excited to get home and watch a show you’re loving. T stands for tip, in which you give a small recommendation to someone. For example, where the shortest bathroom lines are, which food is particular particularly delicious, or point out an interesting person they might want to talk to. What do you think? Would you use these? #creatorsearchinsights #conversationstarters

1. Compliment

“Tell somebody you like their shirt or shoes, for example, and see where the conversation leads,” Mary says.

“Oh, I like your shoes.”

“I like your shirt.”

“You have such a soothing voice.”

2. Observation

“Remark on something happening around you,” Mary says.

“This song is amazing.”

“I really love how Jeanie decorated this room.”

“There’s a lot more people here than last night.”

3. Story

“Share a little anecdote about yourself. For example, maybe you were late to the party for some reason, or you’re excited to get home and watch a show you’re loving,” she said.

4. Tip

“Give a small recommendation to someone. For example, where the shortest bathroom lines are, which food is particularly delicious, or point out an interesting person they might want to talk to,” Mary said.

“I don’t know if you’ve tried the new Mexican place on South Street yet…”

“I’d have one of Jeanie’s margaritas now, before they are all gone.”

“Be careful if you talk to Brian. He can get a bit long-winded.”

chatting before movie, popcorn, movie theater, snacks, small talk Three people chatitng before a movie.via Canva/Photos

The great thing, if you’re a little shy about making small talk, is that studies show that you definitely don’t need to do all the heavy lifting in the conversation. In fact, a Gong.io study found that the best way to make a connection with someone is to speak 43% of the time and let your new friend talk for the other 57% of the conversation.

Further proof that the best way to make a great first impression is a study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. It found that when meeting someone for the first time, ask them a question and then be sure to ask two additional follow-ups before discussing yourself. This has been found to dramatically increase your likability.

“We identify a robust and consistent relationship between question-asking and liking,” the authors of the study write. “People who ask more questions, particularly follow-up questions, are better liked by their conversation partners.”

For those of you who have always felt that you're bad at making small talk. while others seemed to do it naturally, realize that people aren’t born great communicators; it’s a skill that can be learned just like anything else. With a few tips from the experts, you can go from dreading small talk to enjoying striking up a conversation with just about anyone.

Harvard researcher Arthur C. Brooks studies what leads to human happiness.

We live in a society that prizes ambition, celebrating goal-setting, and hustle culture as praiseworthy vehicles on the road to success. We also live in a society that associates successfully getting whatever our hearts desire with happiness. The formula we internalize from an early age is that desire + ambition + goal-setting + doing what it takes = a successful, happy life.

But as Harvard University happiness researcher Arthur C. Brooks has found, in his studies as well as his own experience, that happiness doesn't follow that formula. "It took me too long to figure this one out," Brooks told podcast host Tim Ferris, explaining why he uses a "reverse bucket list" to live a happier life.

bucket list, wants, desires, goals, detachment Many people make bucket lists of things they want in life. Giphy

Brooks shared that on his birthday, he would always make a list of his desires, ambitions, and things he wanted to accomplish—a bucket list. But when he was 50, he found his bucket list from when he was 40 and had an epiphany: "I looked at that list from when I was 40, and I'd checked everything off that list. And I was less happy at 50 than I was at 40."

As a social scientist, he recognized that he was doing something wrong and analyzed it.

"This is a neurophysiological problem and a psychological problem all rolled into one handy package," he said. "I was making the mistake of thinking that my satisfaction would come from having more. And the truth of the matter is that lasting and stable satisfaction, which doesn't wear off in a minute, comes when you understand that your satisfaction is your haves divided by your wants…You can increase your satisfaction temporarily and inefficiently by having more, or permanently and securely by wanting less."

Brooks concluded that he needed a "reverse bucket list" that would help him "consciously detach" from his worldly wants and desires by simply writing them down and crossing them off.

"I know that these things are going to occur to me as natural goals," Brooks said, citing human evolutionary psychology. "But I do not want to be owned by them. I want to manage them." He discussed moving those desires from the instinctual limbic system to the conscious pre-frontal cortex by examining each one and saying, "Maybe I get it, maybe I don't," but crossing them off as attachments. "And I'm free…it works," he said.

- YouTube www.youtube.com

"When I write them down, I acknowledge that I have the desire," he explained on X. "When I cross them out, I acknowledge that I will not be attached to this goal."

The idea that attachment itself causes unhappiness is a concept found in many spiritual traditions, but it is most closely associated with Buddhism. Mike Brooks, PhD, explains that humans need healthy attachments, such as an attachment to staying alive and attachments to loved ones, to avoid suffering. But many things to which we are attached are not necessarily healthy, either by degree (over-attachment) or by nature (being attached to things that are impermanent).

"We should strive for flexibility in our attachments because the objects of our attachment are inherently in flux," Brooks writes in Psychology Today. "In this way, we suffer unnecessarily when we don't accept their impermanent nature."

What Arthur C. Brooks suggests that we strive to detach ourselves from our wants and desires because the simplest way to solve the 'haves/wants = happiness' formula is to reduce the denominator. The reverse bucket list, in which you cross off desires before you fulfill them, can help free you from attachment and lead to a happier overall existence.

Did Julius Caesar have his armpits plucked? Probably.

Modern life may have us shaving, waxing, microblading, laser treating, Botoxing, and altering our natural appearance in all manner of ways in the name of beauty, but the idea of grooming to specific societal standards is nothing new. In cultures all around the world and throughout history, humans have found countless creative ways to make ourselves (ostensibly) look better.

Of course, what looks better is subjective and always has been. Take, for example, the ancient Romans. If you wanted to be seen as a studly man 2,000 years ago in the Roman Empire, you'd remove as much of your body hair as possible. That meant tweezing—or being tweezed by someone else, most likely an enslaved person.

armpit hair, grooming, hair removal, hairless, beauty standard Armpit hair wasn't cook in ancient Rome. Giphy

The Romans, in general, weren't big on body hair for men or women.

"You had to have the look,” Cameron Moffett, English Heritage’s curator at the Wroxeter Roman City museum in Shropshire, U.K., told The Times. “And the look was hairlessness, particularly the underarms.” A collection of 50 tweezers on display at the museum, recovered from the archeological site that was once the Roman city of Viriconium, speaks to Roman tweezing habits, but that's not the only evidence we have.

Stoic philosopher Seneca once wrote in a letter lamenting how the noise from the Roman baths was disrupting his work: "Besides those who just have loud voices, imagine the skinny armpit-hair plucker whose cries are shrill to draw people's attention and never stop except when he's doing his job and making someone else shriek for him."

When we picture the ancient Romans, "skinny armpit-hair plucker" may not be the image that comes to mind, yet here we are.


teeth brushing, toothbrush, oral hygiene, toothpaste, dental hygiene They brushed with what now? Giphy

While we fret over fluoride, the Romans brushed their teeth with pee and mouse brains.

Toothpastes of the past were made with all kinds of things—herbs, spices, salts, crushed bone, and more. For the ancient Romans, that "more" included mouse brains and human urine, according to Decisions in Dentistry. Mouse brains were believed to enhance the effectiveness of toothpaste, and urine, imported in large quantities from Portugal, was utilized for its ammonia content and whitening properties. A standard Roman toothpaste would be a mixture of herbs, mouse brains, urine, and a binder such as honey. Oddly enough, it appeared to be somewhat effective, with archeological findings showing a relatively low number of cavities and tooth decay.

@charissekenion

Sailorr has everyone talking about her sound - and her teeth. Here’s my super short history lesson on the practice of ohaguro #ohaguro #geisha #japanese #japantok #aapi #history #japan #historytok #sailorr #japanesebeauty

Meanwhile, in ancient Japan, women tried to blacken their teeth

Teeth whitening is all the rage in modern times, but in the distant past in parts of Asia, making your teeth black was considered beautiful. The practice known as ohaguro was a traditional Japanese practice that, ironically, was intended to prevent tooth decay.

According to a letter in the British Dental Journal, women in ancient Japan would paint a solution of ferric acetate (from iron filings), vinegar, and tannin from tea or vegetables. It was called kanemizuonto and made the teeth appear black. The practice has made a comeback among some rural areas of Southeast Asia, and the Vietnamese-American singer Sailorr has made waves with her blackened teeth as well.

ear picker, history, artifact, grooming, beauty An ornate ear picker.The Swedish History Museum, Stockholm/Wikimedia Commons

Ear pickers were much prettier than Q-tips. In fact, they were an accessory.

The old saying, "Don't put anything in your ear except your elbow," may not be as old as it seems, as people have been inserting objects into their ears to remove wax for a long time.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, it was common to see beautiful, ornate "ear pickers"—small metal tools with a small scoop at the end for cleaning ears as well as teeth and fingernails. According to Jamestown Rediscovery, it was fashionable to wear gold and silver toiletry tools, such as ear pickers or toothpicks, as accessories. It's hard to imagine wearing Q-tips and toothpicks around. Also, ew. But if you look up "ear pickers," you'll find ornate examples from various parts of the world.

At the very least, it's nice to know that modern humans are not the first ones to go to great—and sometimes interesting—lengths to meet an arbitrary social standard of beauty. (And three cheers for modern toothpaste. Seriously.)