The problem with taking a red-eye flight is that I'm basically waiting all day for my flight.

Actually, according to my original plan, the one in which I take a series of four buses to the airport, I would need to be leaving right about now, having begged one of the brothers to drive me off the mountain to the nearest bus stop, three miles away.

Instead, when one of the monks – my former mentor, actually – heard last night that I was planning to take the bus to the airport, he insisted on driving me, a superbly nice gesture that wowed even me. So now I'm waiting into the evening to leave. Two or three monks are taking me.

Last Night:
Apparently I missed my farewell party last night. I brought my Baby Taylor guitar and a shakuhachi with me to dinner, and right after I washed my dishes, I headed up the mountain to watch one last Southern California sunset.

Only after I returned was I informed of my farewell party, and that all the senior monks showed up. That certainly raised my eyebrows. For weeks, I felt that I had been put out to pasture. The biggest problem I've had here has been about communication. Even if it wasn't definite, how hard would it have been for someone to mention to me that there might be something for me that evening?

Apparently, I have the monks' full support to go to the root monastery after my time out in the material world. If they had communicated that to me three weeks ago, that would be my plan. Instead my mindset is so turned outward, that this new information is just a footnote to remind me that I'm welcome back if nothing else pans out out there. Instead of being my first choice, it's my last.

But I bitch.

Really, I recognize their support and it's not completely out of the question that I'll come back. If you like someone, it doesn't hurt every now and then to let them know it or feel it.

Well, what are you waiting for?