A Day in the life of an Irreligious Monk 

A Day in the life of an Irreligious Monk 

Updated: Feb 6

(A monologue written in 2016)

A few days ago I have been released from work for a period of vacation. Now I am free in my apartment to do nothing without no expectation of no authority that shall tell me what to do and how to behave. When one lacks the authority in their life, even for a short period, they may or lose their sanity due to boredom and emptiness, or they can overcome the boredom found in such freedom and fulfill their life with autonomous, independent meaning of an external entity; a craft of spiritual, directed, visionary value.

But I, the founder of Solitary/Rubinshteinic Individualism, T.A.R.S, who emphasized the importance of overcoming the void of freedom, am lacking a craft, and on these days of vacation I do not necessarily experience boredom or a deep sense of emptiness, but a sense of time-wasting. There are days where I do not write at all, but instead am attracted to some temptations the close people in my life and the prosperous technology are offering me - to “have some fun” and to despise all the time I have until I shall return to work in the external world.

As a philosopher I find it hard to understand how many people can spend days and weeks in waste, such as watching television or going to a wild and unhealthy recreations, without asking themselves the difficult questions of their lives at least once a day, nor introspect upon one’s place in the world. However and unfortunately, I may be too one of these people who kill time instead of using it for productivity, of indulging deeply in a craft of value, that shall bring me and others the element of meaning - I have already wrote many books in my life; 2 novellas of science fiction and romantic drama, and 4 books of philosophy, and everything in my teenage year (Side note: in accordance to this month and year - July 2017 - I wrote in total 3 novellas and 6 philosophy books. Today I am a young adult, but can be considered a teenager).

However, I cannot feel but meaningless in each period of days when I am not reading or writing, but instead, watching hours and hours the prosperity my television offers, or the videos buried deep within the internet. Here I am - sitting and slowly gaining fat - found in distraction, watching a program or video of my liking, without any realization of current puo this state of distraction, fun and non-engrossment in philosophy, there is a term I named in Solus Dinos, which is called ruggedly but straightforward: General Stupidity.“general stupidity”, that’s how I dare to call this phenomenon, is a social one of general inclusion, where people spend their lives without making a thought over a thought, or in other words, without doing any meta-cognitive activity, which is expressed by criticism and questioning their current state on the philosophical level. I am not implying that everyone who are in this state are “stupid”, since even the wisest of humans may be in such state while consuming entertainment. All of these stimulations may be so dominant and central until they can suck all of our attention and make us ultimately forget to ponder why we do the things we do, alongside with why are we thinking and feeling the way we do.

However the days of the Indie-Solitaire philosopher are always filled with doubts, regrets and at times senses of guilt on option he might spend and kill the best of their time under the shadow of fun and hedonism; always in the search after the breakthrough of the mechanical days which does not leave them even while in seclusion. Is there a life over life, a spirit over spirit? Is the human being truly overcomes the animal, which does not live for a higher purpose? The religious among my readers may think that the meaning I am writing about is a divine entity, but I am not inferring to a supreme higher power than the human mind; I am thinking about the supreme and power found within the human mind, the enormous potential which may be found in each and every one of us as individuals, regardless of the fact that we are walking/driving and reproducing meat-sacks. This is why I am to write those lines, to endure the harsh and lifelong winter of my existence, without the hope to find an ultimate rising dawn. I am always in a quest of meaning, in an infinite race to actualization and an ultimate feeling of satisfaction. Every day whether a work day, a holiday or a vacation day, I wonder if my mind shall ever find the sun which shall tell it: “This is it. You have wrote enough in your life. Now you should rest in serenity”. Well, I better make the best of it by thriving to actualize myself to the fullest, while giving others the same recommendation.

No, I shall have no rest. As long as I live I must write and I must make a meaningful craft: “we were defected in work and by work we shall recover”. The awareness to solitude is the ultimate freedom which makes this serene stream of life, of daily labor, to keep products for the next generations, hundreds of years after my life. Indeed, I feel old, solitary but not lonely, regardless of my youth. Every day contains the incoming death, which shall end the life of every being regardless of status and class. I know that if I shall write on a daily basis, on solitude, philosophy and my experience, I assume that my writings shall endure beyond the years of my life. Assuming that my life-force is contained within my beloved writings, I therefore be able to live beyond my death, as my thoughts are to be found in the brains and hearts of other people to remember me of my extensive endevours in the fields of humanities and philosophy. I shall rest only under a grave.

And this is how an average day of vacation is in my life, not remembering what I have done few days ago and what I shall do on the next. I have some books to read to make me feel meaningful, that something essential and of high volume enters my mind. Nonetheless whatever I do, I do not see many people on those days. As the monks I barely talk, but as the westerners I gain fat and pursuit hedonism as a habit the environment thought me. Whatever not being spent in watching spent by reading and writing, even if of less frequency.

Sometimes I may read on monks and their lifestyle, and like Don Quixote which viewed himself as a knight due to extensive reading of books and novels on chivalry, I see myself as a monk due to extensive reading of articles across the cyberspace. I wish to leave my family’s home and live like St. Antonius, like Zaratustra, like Thoreau - by the modern and urban style of a small and humble apartment. Perhaps even a small room shall be enough for me to call an abode, where I may have the basic requirements for living and minimal furniture. There are times when I stroll around the living room with a black gown, imagining the same life I lead now but aside my family, and in my vision I sit within a small room with a feather and ink to and write upon countless scriptures and books. However I know these times have passed long ago before I was born. Sometimes I read some novels, there lies my only love life, and the only love life I may ever lead. At times I go on walks across the metropolis, but due to my habit of doing so I minimally dedicate attention to the action itself, and here after allegedly a few minutes I am in my home again after actual hours of walking. On vacation, my internal world is like an ivory tower, tall than every nonsense which reside down there, or a womb where I await to come to the grand world, where I shall live with my own standards, while it practice it may be simply another womb, perhaps smaller.

However if there is something which disturbs my serenity in such golden periods, it ought to be my consumption of time at the social media, which may be the only touch I may have with the world beyond my family (Side note: today I am no longer in any social media, and I don’t use Quora for socializing). In my personal life I have no friends beyond work; actually they are no more than colleagues. However my ‘friends’ in the social media are nothing more than strangers, which with some I don’t remember how I got to know them or how I may got any interaction with them. I browse the pictures they upload: photos of happiness hanging at nightclubs, at restaurants at a shopping mall and at beaches. They seem to me to be very happy, even thought I know this is an extravagance of the internet culture. They may experience deep loneliness at night; not everything which glows is gold.

Sometimes I get affected by from the same pictures of happiness and social recreation - I too may experience the delusion of loneliness (I call it a delusion because it is so temporary to me in regular experience) and alienation (which I view my state of being in relation the general populace of my country). Sometimes even tall women with exposed legs that appear on the TV screen make me feel alienated, and a delusion of a urge to a romantic life which I never had and hope I shall never will. If I call my self Tomasio the Monk then I therefore call myself that name for a reason: to live according to my ideology with zealotry. If someone vows to practice a way of life according to their ideology until their very end, they should not give up on them. And indeed, for me, at least for me, my ideology may be at times more important than my real life people which I hold dear. Unlike them, I don’t believe a true faith in an ideology can pass like nothing. The more one dedicates their life to love that ideology, the more it has an impact on them and perhaps even after their life - to more people.

There are certain days in my vacation which I may experience a sense of meaninglessness, but never boredom. The meaningful part of my mindset is dedicated to the next books that shall be printed as I expand the ideology of Solitary Individualism.

Many people (a few that there are in my life) in which I discussed with told me about the important of romantic love into one’s existence. However to my love towards solitude - the concept of solitarus - there is no replacement, and I hope no one shall attempt to do so in the future, as my love for solitude is unconditional.

It’s been years since I wrote; Years where my heart acknowledges that its powers are not wasted for nothing.

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© 2019 Tomasio A. Rubinshtein, Philosopher