Eating
"Having a meal at a monastery is completely unlike dining in the real world." There is silence. No tv. No talking. One goes through the line; utensils, soup, rice, a salad, pudding, tea, or coffee, or milk. I listen in silence. "
"Silence is spoken here," says the sign. The window becomes the screen of life. Birds sing an eat. A car passes in the distance. In winter one can see further.
Have you ever sat silently through a meal? What did you hear?
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