Twitter: Trapped Monk
Trapped Monk was the name (given by Anne TX) of the character in my Twitter.
This post was created so that comments on The Adventures of the Trapped Monk could be kept in one place and easy to follow rather than spread piecemeal across many different posts.
Now that Trapped Monk is untrapped, and replaced in the footer by the daily lesson, here is a sequential list of all the Tweets in one place:
…………………………………………………
Into eternity, where all is one, there crept a tiny, mad monk who remembered not to do a lot of things: Laugh. Forgive. Shave his head.
Riding up path to my new monastery atop donkey. Other monks looking at me sideways. Don’t they know who I am? Where are the palm fronds??
I open the door, worry about germs. Introduced to the Abbot. Someone says “Your Holiness,” both of us ask, “Yes?” A little embarrassing.
Shown to my new room. Can’t see the WiFi and cable hook-ups. Must be behind the bed. Hungry! I see a bell. Wonder if there’s room service?
No room service. Ringing bell frowned upon. Was given piece of paper purporting to be menu. Rice. Hmm. Must be the vegetarian option.
Go to bed hungry. Wait for other monks to fall asleep. Pull out contraband bag of potato chips. Eat till 3am. Realize prayer call is 4am!
Stomach ache. Will never eat chips again. Ever! Hard to focus on prayers. Finally feel better. Close eyes. See chips. Back to room for more.
Secret stash of contraband depleted. Hope for room service or WiFi disappearing. Germ concerns rising. Open Course book, will start lessons.
Text looks like heavy reading. Going straight to workbook. Ah Lesson 1. Heal me Jesus! “Nothing I see means anything.” WTF? Time for a nap!
Rap at door. Not hip hop monks, a sharp knock. Late for work duty. Must clean lavatory. Nothing I see means anything, Nothing I see means…
Too late to quit? Is there such a thing as monk-annulment? Don’t like the lessons much either. Not working. Lavatory duty was germ warfare.
Brooding in room. Don’t want to go down to welcome visitors. Staring out window. See Sisters of Mary Convent next door. Might go for walk.
Gloomy sky. Mist blanketing the convent garden. Stumble into nun. Writes me a note. “Please excuse me, I’m mildly depressed.” Heavens open.
Pouring rain. Staring into each others eyes. Mother Superior appears. Screams. Reminds me of all the nuns I’ve been taught and/or beaten by.
Sister Silent turns to run. Stops. Flashes me a flurry of hand-signs, then darts away. What could it mean?? My guess: “Meet me at midnight”.
Lesson #2. OK! Let’s see! “I have given everything I see from this window all the meaning that it has for me.” Look at convent. Close book.
Almost midnight. Sneak outside. Caught by Brother Mission! Explain going to garden “to pick veggies for.. medicinal purposes” Looks dubious.
Asked what sorts of vegetables exactly. Decide on rhubarb. Bad choice. Escorted to monastery jail. Placed in cell. Not entirely unfamiliar.
Learn curfew is 11pm. Must see Sister S!! Decide to bribe guard. Not a potato chip fan. Weird! But likes chocolate. I’m out! Run for my nun!
Five past midnight! Sneak by Brother M fully engrossed in Lesson 3. Sprint to garden! Breathless. No Sister S (or rhubarb) in sight! Gutted.
Return to room. Slump on bed. Remember to start Lesson 3. “I do not understand anything I see.” Definitely applies to nuns and hands signs.
Attend morning ACIM session. Abbot Pacino teaching. Something about authority problem. That guy bugs me sometimes. Who does he think he is?
Fall asleep in class. Brother Mission kicks my chair. Shoot him a dirty look. Notice Pacino watching us. Pretend sneer was onset of smile.
Abott Pacino gives homework: Watch our egos in action without judging them. Brother Mission writes down every word like a big keener. Moron!
To Frater for lunch. Canadian bacon! Ask for extra slice. Denied. 5 per monk. Hide one in robes, claim only got four. Grease stain giveaway.
Angry at cook. Want to tell him off, but don’t want to draw attention. Ah! My secret tee-shirt! Open robes so he can read: MORE ME LESS YOU.
B. Mission, glorified hall monitor, notices t-shirt exchange. Writes me up for illegal attire and aggressive disrobing. Resist punching him.
Discipline: Must hunt for truffles in forest. Sounds like it could involve spiders, germs and getting dirt under fingernails. Feign illness.
Sent to forest with rake and paper bags. Ditch both for tree climbing. Ah quiet……Hear noise. Peer through branches. Look out, nun below!
A deranged truffle hunting wild boar rampages straight for the nun! She screams silently…sounds like Sister S! Must do something heroic!!!
Trembling so bad, branch breaks. Falling! Knock out boar!! Look up at Sister S with terrified grin, hoping it looks at least mildly heroic..
Sister S points at stirring boar, grabs my hand, and leads me deeper into woods until we come to a secret door hidden in the forest floor!
It’s dark. She lights a candle. I look around. A bed, copies of People magazine, Colt cigars, and several bottles of wine in corner. A bed?!
Sister S passes me glass of wine, sits beside me. Not sure what to do, so whip out daily lesson card: “These thoughts do not mean anything.”
Sister S gently takes card from my hand. Slowly tears it in two. Smiles. The blasphemy! Of course I’m in a hidden grotto with a nun, so…
Crazed boar stomps wooden door above. Leap to feet in terror. Throw a few shadow boxing moves toward ceiling in attempt to recover manhood.
I effuse to Sister S: “Don’t panic! The boar is not really there! We’re not really here! It’s all an illu…” Wait. She’s lighting a cigar??
Sister S takes big inhale from cigar, calmly opens trap door, exhales directly into face of boar. Boar disoriented. Staggers, retreats. Wha?
Grabs my hand, leads me back through forest toward monastery. Stops. Puts paper bag full of truffles in my other hand, hugs me. Disappears.
Brother Mission waiting for me on front steps. “What took you so long?” Give him bag o’ truffles. He eyes them them, then me, suspiciously.
Retreat to room, ask Jesus for help with Sister S. Open Course for inspiration. Bored. Pull out People Magazine. Romo and Simpson split? No!
Wake up late for breakfast. Sprint to refectory. Horrors! No bacon left! Daily lesson card: “I’m never upset for the reason I think.” Pshaw!
Baconlessly (sadly) sit by new monk. Introduces himself: Brother Urtext. Suspicious sort. Real fundamentalist and loves conspiracy theories.
Leave for class. Weird: Each time Abbot Pacino quotes the Course Brother Urtext raises his hand and shouts out, “And whose edit was THAT?”
After class Ab. Pacino puts Brother Urtext in headlock, wrestles with him, gives him a noogie, disappears. Brother Ur cracks smile, frowns.
Brother Urtext discovers Brother Mission has confiscated his copy of JACIM. Turns an unspiritual purple, vows to “burn the place the down.”
Monks ask: What in the name of crispy fried bacon is JACIM? Brother Urtext whoops, “The unsullied Word of God!” just as “Mr. Sully” appears.
“Jesus ACIM” says Ab. Pacino handing B.Urtext his book and pinching his nose. To a pouting B. MIssion: “Jesus doesn’t mind, why should you?”
Brother Mission in sour mood. Resurrects truffle suspicions. Demands to know where I got them all. Grabs rake, bag, angrily heads to forest.
Brother Mission follows wild boar tracks, digs around the places he sees unearthed hoping to find truffle heaven when he hears a grunt…
B. Mission spins around. In stand off with boar. Sends messages of Atonement from his mind to boar’s mind to tame its wild ego. Tusk! Tusk!
Infirmary is abuzz. Brother Mission, gored, in critical condition, reveals secret book to be released if he dies. Title: “ACIM for Bodies”
Boar hunt organized. Most “fearsome” monks selected. Before leaving to kill beast, monk mob pauses for trembly group reading of lesson 48.
Hunt for wild beast goes terribly awry. One monk, Brother Blasé, killed in action. Last words: “Boared to death!” Bacon prayer vigil @ 11pm.
Nuns from Sisters of Mary Convent sing at vigil. Sister Silence conducting! Looks at me, smiles. Under the spell of her baton, I smile back.
Post-vigil bacon consumed in great quantities. No 5-strip limit. Greasy robes all around. Amidst pork haze, Sister S signs “Grotto meeting!”
Strike up conspiracy convo with Brother Urtext by forest’s edge. Mention ACIM-CIA connection. Slip into forest while he googles on iPhone.
Sister Silence appears. Rush to grotto in darkness. Open door. Abbot Pacino and Mother Superior (they call her “Helena on wheels”) waiting.
Only one candle lit. Room dark, smoky. Mother Helena chews on cigar butt, points to a chair. I sit down, knees shaking. Begin Lord’s Prayer.
Abandon Lord’s Prayer after “Our Father”. Decide to genuflect instead. Impulsively attempt to kiss Mother Helena’s ring. Bad idea. Swatted.
Rub cheek, swallow hard. Stutter, “Sorry, Your Holiness, er, Your Holy Motherness… Your, Your Motherly Holiness?” Other cheek swatted.
Mother Helena removes envelope from robes. Stubs out cigar. Gives me measured look. “I have a mission for you.” Aha! I KNEW it! I’m The One!
Open letter. Hands trembling. World tilting. The moment I’ve waited for all my life. And my psychologist thought I had a Messiah complex!
Letter reads: “You have a Messiah complex. We are worried about you. Please report for weekly counseling sessions with Abbot Pacino ASAP.”
Unable to lift eyes from letter. Mouth too dry to speak. M. Helena breaks silence: “It’s OK, dear. I chose him for you because he tickles.”
Feel cheeks burn in candlelight. Spiritually advanced, ha! Feel like a fraud exposed. Peek up at Sister Silence who is smiling softly at me.
A. Pacino stands. I flinch, take step backward. Offers me glass of wine. I decline. Then accept. He toasts: “To feeling good all the time.”
We sip a little wine, laugh a lot, finally begin walk home. Forest is dark. A. Pacino whispers he’s got my back. Think I’m going to be sick.
Run away from group into dark thicket, gasping. Want to escape A. Pacino’s gentleness, M. Helena’s tender gaze, S. Silence’s soft smile…
Come across mammoth hollow tree with opening at base. Crawl inside. Turn away from door. Perfect darkness. Curl up and fall into deep sleep.
Dream of big spider in treetop. Crawls slowly down, down. I run from tree! Spider explodes. Millions of spiders scurry after my every step.
Jolt myself awake. Slap at imaginary spiders, until remember where I am. Darkness scary now. Stick head out tree. A Pacino: “Hi sleepyhead!”
A. Pacino helps me climb from tree. Try to explain what happened. Mumble “cheap drunk”. OK, more like slur. Passes me strong cup of coffee.
Return to monastery. Monks passed out; acute stage of pork haze. A.Pacino goes to each one, tenderly puts pillow under their sleeping heads.
Return to cell, can’t sleep. Look out window to convent. Lone light shines on top floor. Flick light off and on. Wait. Response! Sister S?
Don’t know Morse code. Settle for blinking lights off and on REALLY fast. Light from convent turns off and on very slowly. Sister S it is.
Dream I cling to giant pendulum swinging back and forth, back and forth. Lights blinking off and on. Sense somewhere someone is watching me.
Refectory empty at breakfast. Pork hangovers abound. More bacon for me! Sidle up to buffet. What?? No bacon. Chef reveals worrying shortage.
Emergency pork meeting called. Attending monks look a little green. First article of Pork Constitution: Five slices on every plate.
Pork Constitution signed. Friar Buck seeks immediate amendment. Ten slices on every plate. Struck down. Search of his cell ordered.
Bacon famine due to Swine Flu epidemic. Addicted monks in disarray. Abbot Pacino suggests rice cakes and peanut butter. Is almost assaulted.
Days pass. Monks have become lethargic, skinny. Friar Buck especially despondent. Used to be barrels of laughs. Now hums songs from Grease.
Monastery in chaos. Pork riots! Monks dressed as pigs roll on ground acting out strange rituals. Convent in lockdown. Sister S sends signal.
Make mad dash for forest, ducking Molotov cocktails. East wing on fire. A frenzied Friar Buck hurls The Blue Dot through A. Pacino’s window.
Find Sister S at The Meeting Tree. Passes note: “Your blinks are undisciplined and unruly!” Begins to teach me Morse code and sign language.
Interrupt lesson to ask her what HER blinks were saying. “Please find your nearest book on Morse Code.” Bummer. “And, sweet dreams.” Better!
Sister Silence gently takes my hands in hers. First thing she teaches me to sign? “I’m sorry,” and “What lesson are we on?” Giggles. Hmph.
Seeing my frown, Sister S smiles, looks down. Grows very still. Then softly, slowly, takes my hand, and shows me how to sign, “I miss you”.
Heart beats like Tibetan drum and dances like prayer flags in the wind. Ground rumbles and shakes like… wha? Wild boar charging Sister S!
Possible past lifetime with ninjas stirs deep within me. Or am so afraid I jump ten feet in air. Whichever. Point: I leap to her defense!
Inexplicably the Great Old Beast stops, its tusks inches from goring me a la Brother Mission, glances heavenward, and drops dead! Lesson 40!
Race back to convent with Sister S, get tractor. Drag the Great Old Beast slowly through forest back to monastery in the middle of night.
Kitchen staff awake, find year supply of bacon on doorstep. Word spreads quickly. Riots cease. The blue dot is returned to the blue circle.
A drooling Friar Buck falls to knees in exalted prayer repeating lesson 77! Renewed confusion as to what EXACTLY constitutes a miracle.
Enter refectory to thunderous ovation. Blush, but fold arms to make biceps look as big as possible. Carried to VIP table amidst Lama chants.
Receiving line forms. Regale them with animated recounting of tale. Abbot Pacino strolls by. Bemused. “VIP table? Hmmm. Very Insane Person?”
Cease Mr. Roboto moves atop VIP table. Chagrined. Abbot motions me to office for first weekly counseling session. Messiah complex revisited.
Tell Abbot story of my life, put special emphasis on most woeful bits. Ask how long we should spend on it? His reply: “About 15 seconds.”
“Then what should I do??” He responds: “Don’t try to find Truth, just stop making a big deal about your big deals and Truth will find you.”
OK, sounds good. I got this. Walk to door, pause. Turn around. But what about the tarantulas? My health issues? And.. Pacino: “But but but.”
Read: Light and joy and peace abide in me. Hmm. More like turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, yams, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.
2am-Leftovers calling my name. Sneak down to kitchen for stuffing. Find Friar Buck in dark crying. Has tummy ache, wonders why he overeats.
Put arm around Friar Buck, sit quietly in dark, unsure what to say. Abbot Pacino appears with lantern, face softly aglow and lit with love.
Friar Buck begs, “Tell me my mistake!” Ab. Pacino responds, “The problem, my dear friend, is you jump out of the Friar into the frying pan.”
Friar Buck pounds his fist on the table. A bowl of stuffing tips over. “Eureka! It’s like lesson #8! My mind is preoccupied with leftovers!”
Now look under your plate, says Pacino. Engraving: “Purpose is everything.” That is what everything on top of your plate is meant to hide.
A happy Friar B. leaves me alone with Abbot. “Maybe don’t take credit for ‘bringin’ home the bacon.’” My specialness flashes before my eyes.
Disavow any involvement with slaying The Great Beast. VIP-table pass revoked. Lama talk dries up. Only welcomed at conspiracy table now.
Grilled! Was it chemtrails? Aliens? CFR? Banking elite? Illuminati? Bird flu vaccine? Mumble: “I think he died by his own consent.” Booed.
Conspiracy table thinks I’m “one of them” now. Evicted. Overhear people gushing about “The Miracle of Pork.” Hero of the dream factor? Zero.
Ab. Pacino grabs me: Hero of the dream factor zero? Ha! It’s off the charts! Who do you think is being unfairly treated, cast out, rejected?
Sulk back to room. Flick light off and on dejectedly. Knock at my door. Sister Silence. Signs “Everything OK??” My puppy dog eyes sign “no”.
A recuperated B. Mission limps past door. Asks Sister S to leave. Snowstorm blows in. Power outage. Spend week in cold, lonely cell praying.
Out of the darkness a star appears! Wait, it’s just Brother Urtext with a match. Thinks Abbot Pacino is behind all the darkness. I agree.
Christmas Eve. Have peaceful, dreamless sleep. Awake to a smiling Ab. Pacino holding a candle. “Wake up baby Jesus, it’s Christmas morning.”
Santa brings books: For Br. Mission: Can’t Save Yourself? Save The World! Br. Urtext: Errata Be Fishing! Mine: 5 Spiders You Meet in Heaven
Weekly meeting with Ab. Pacino. Report my failure. Can’t hear Forgotten Song. Replies: “Your problem is you’re trying to be the conductor.”
Complain I don’t like playing second fiddle. Abbot: There’s no first OR second. Angrily: Then why would I want to play?? Precisely, he says.
Brood under Bodhi tree in wintry chill as lonely new year chimes begin. From darkness Sister S runs through snow, warms me with her kisses.
Happily climb each step back to monastery. The snow shines with purity, every star sings a silent song, the moon…bright portal of my soul.
Wait on monastery steps until Sister S’s light comes on to know she is home safe and sound. In my mind I discover a love not of this world.
Turn toward monastery, begin ascent up stairs. Notice the door is held open for me by Ab Pacino. Light extends invitingly into the darkness.
Take Ab Pacino’s hand. Leads me to Concert Hall. As He raises his baton the Cavatina plays softly. I close my eyes and follow my heart home.
July 5th, 2009 at 8:57 pm
To the “Corner Monk” (on Twitter) – pray for Amnesty on the secret stash! Or just eat the rest of it!
July 8th, 2009 at 10:05 pm
I love you Monk!
And I love our Twit Monk, Corner Monk – trapped monk? (not Trappist – that’s all we know..)
Anonymonk?
July 9th, 2009 at 11:43 am
Winnie: Loved your dream, thanks for letting us in on it. That IS the kind of dream that would comfort and inspire you your whole life.
Anne in TX: Trapped Monk is pretty good. He feels trapped in the monastery, trapped in being a Course student (he’s not very impressed with it so far), and it’s a nice play on Trappist. Just wish it was more mellifluous. Will have to think of a name for him as things go along. P.S. Love you, too.
Mr. Christie: You make good cookies. :) Re: moving to Temecula. Has crossed my mind, but seems unlikely. Not sure what future holds, but right now it seems like I’d probably want to continue going every month or close. So the consideration would be to save the 1000 miles on the monastery bus every month, long trafficky drives on the 15, hotel bills, packing, unpacking with such frequency etc.
Cynthia: Re: Heal me Jesus! ..Thanks, I think that was my favorite line, too. Was said with an excited-expectant-earnest squeal. :) (Of course was also partial to ‘WTF?’ in that particular tweet) :)
July 13th, 2009 at 11:03 pm
Our Trapped Monk has made it all the way to Lesson #2. That’s twice as far as I’ve ever gotten!
July 17th, 2009 at 2:07 am
The Trapped Monk – dubious? How very clever you are, monk. Good ole’ what-his-face.
ps I love you!
July 17th, 2009 at 10:20 am
Rhubarb? Yuk!
But jail? That’s pretty harsh.
I’ll bring Rice Crispy bars with a file in them!
July 17th, 2009 at 11:30 pm
I guess this means no files in the cakes for our Trapped Monk!
Also, did anyone notice the new web site from Temecula? With the new class dates.
“It is not what we do in the world, but Who we do it with in our mind.” Gotta love that!
July 18th, 2009 at 4:03 pm
Trapped Monk – 11:00 curfew? Well, it’s 11:00 SOMEWHERE!
Always keep a back up stash of chocolate to bribe the guards with…ya just never know!
July 20th, 2009 at 3:54 am
Trapped Monk – Don’t worry about Brother M! He doesn’t understand ANYTHING he sees!
But Sister S is probably sleeping. As is Brother John…. Brother John is always sleeping!
July 20th, 2009 at 6:41 pm
Trapped Monk – the hand signals can be tricky to master.
It was probably “solfeggio,” NOT “rock-paper-scissors!”
July 21st, 2009 at 8:15 pm
Trapped Monk – I’m not sure, but I don’t think the right thing to say to Abbot Pacino was “Say hello to my little friend!”
July 23rd, 2009 at 5:17 am
Trapped Monk – who amongst us hasn’t fallen asleep in class, and had the chair kicked almost out from under us!?
That happens to me almost every day, in one way or another.
July 23rd, 2009 at 8:58 pm
Trapped Monk – I think you just got an “No Go” on your first scrap of homework!
July 24th, 2009 at 9:07 pm
Dear Trapped Monk – of COURSE you only get so many slices. It’s CANADIAN.
July 25th, 2009 at 8:33 pm
Trapped Monk: MORE ME LESS YOU is what I said before I went on Atkins!
July 28th, 2009 at 8:47 pm
“…off with his head…!”
Origins of the word villain: “villa” meaning “country house, farm.” Also, in Middle English, a villein or vilein was: “One of a class of feudal serfs who held the legal status of freemen in their dealings with all people except their lord.”
July 28th, 2009 at 8:49 pm
If a Monk hunts truffles in the forest, and no one is there to see it, has he really hunted them?
July 31st, 2009 at 5:42 pm
Trapped Monk – you and Zaccheus!
August 2nd, 2009 at 10:48 am
Trapped Monk – secret door to what, a BBQ pit?
August 2nd, 2009 at 8:15 pm
Trapped Monk – What an odd selection of things to find – except in the oval office of times gone by!
August 11th, 2009 at 8:59 pm
Abbey Road? Anyone – anyone?
SAVOY Truffles, Trapped Monk?
Jamie – ps I Love You!
August 12th, 2009 at 3:47 am
How cool is that – I helped name something!
Thanks Monk!
August 12th, 2009 at 8:10 am
Thanks Jamie, This might also help us lineup which whisper goes with which twit.
August 12th, 2009 at 12:38 pm
Anne in TX: I have enjoyed your ongoing comments to the happenings in Monk’s Twitter, and am glad he named it after your designation of “Trapped” Monk. For subsequent viewers of this special blog, maybe you could find the time to Whisper again your (brilliant) reason for calling him that.
I look forward to more of your Trapped Monk wit!! (Hello, smoked ham?) ROFLMAO
August 12th, 2009 at 8:36 pm
Hi ya’ll from Texas!
Ya know, it’s like a TRAPPIST Monk. But this “dude” is also TRAPPED!
Love ya’ll!
August 15th, 2009 at 5:43 am
Trapped Monk – I’m not a big fan, but here in Dallas the center of commerce and attitude IS the. Dallas. Cowboys.
Don’t worry – they just sneak around and see each other now. Now everybody wins.
August 15th, 2009 at 11:54 am
I don’t know why the phrase “I am never upset for the reason I think” has magical powers (hee hee) for me, but it does. I immediately feel like everything’s going to be all right – this isn’t how it looks – you are safe – Love is really here – healing is really possible – this isn’t as serious as it seems – God still loves me – I haven’t done anything – I have Mighty Helpers – I am not alone.
All of those things, in an instant, the twinkling of an eye {wink} so to speak. It seems to be my magic wand, my door to Peace, my Fairy Godmother of emotions, my well-being giver, my hand in His. All in that one beautiful phrase,
I am never upset for the reason I think.
August 15th, 2009 at 1:09 pm
Debbi: It (”I’m never upset for the reason I think”) is probably number one in my healing arsenal, the second being: “I could see peace instead of this.”
I usually have quick success with the former, but the latter gets sticky in a hurry.
August 16th, 2009 at 6:11 am
“I don’t know what anything is for” works for me.
Followed up by “I loose the world from all I thought it was.”
(Then I usually go hurl.)
August 17th, 2009 at 8:44 am
Trapped sans bacon Monk
I’ve met the dude – changed my life!
And when I did, I couldn’t eat or sleep for a week…radical, like you said.
I still love him deeply; in fact, he is my true love (Brother Ur of the Urtext.)
But our passion was much too intense to survive!
So I send this sub/sub of an ego out into the world everyday to do my bidding.
All the while I stand in the place where I first laid my eyes on “him”
…I cannot speak his name without crying.
That’s why they call it a “crush.”
August 19th, 2009 at 3:03 pm
Good morning, Jamie ~
Your twitters (or is it tweets or twits or tits – oops) are a hoot.
Now the fundamentalist Bro Urtext of the continuous conspiracies.
Looking forward to tomorrow.
Happy Days,
Cynthia
August 19th, 2009 at 3:05 pm
I like Abbot Pacino myself.
August 19th, 2009 at 8:56 pm
Now I know I’m dreaming because this is what I say all. the. time.
I am home at last with my twin documents.
Still, they’re cousins,
Identical cousins and you’ll find,
They laugh alike, they walk alike,
At times they even talk alike —
You can lose your mind,
When cousins are two of a kind!
August 20th, 2009 at 8:33 am
A frown? It’s just a smile turned upside down. Broth -UR!
Give me five minutes alone with this guy….just five minutes is all I need!
August 20th, 2009 at 9:23 am
OK, I probably missed it along the way, but I just tried to go back to the first trapped monk twit ( is twit, past tense and tweet, future and twittering, present???) so I could read through the whole thing. Could only get back to secret tee-shirt. Is this normal? Do I have to go to twitter site to find the begining? If so how ?
August 20th, 2009 at 9:35 am
Hi Pam!
The Flash Player in the footer only shows the last 20 “Tweets”.
To read them all go to http://twitter.com/acimmonk
Up until yesterday there was a grey “t” in the ACIM Monk sidebar which would automatically take you there. Jamie removed it when he re-designed the page, and put the icons in the sidebar. He is looking to find a new place for it as we speak. :^)
Love,
Jane-admin
August 20th, 2009 at 3:11 pm
Thanks
August 20th, 2009 at 3:27 pm
Thanks Jane-admin.
August 21st, 2009 at 7:34 am
Favorite line of Al Pacino in the movie “The Devil’s Advocate” … “What’s in a Name”
No one else could have delivered that line the way he did. He played the ego ohh I mean Lucifer so well!
August 22nd, 2009 at 3:51 am
…maybe he meant it in a “nice” way?
August 22nd, 2009 at 9:50 pm
Too many Annez
Is there an UR Anne?
August 23rd, 2009 at 7:32 am
It’s a conspiracy :)
Hey Anne In TX was line # 19 in response to #18 or the latest twitter?
August 23rd, 2009 at 8:22 am
This “Ann” thing is a conspiracy:) I initally took it as a ’sign’ I was in the right place. Maybe there is something about our name, Ann:)
August 23rd, 2009 at 11:38 am
The first girl I fell in love with (grade 4) was Anne Marie Johnson. That’s the best I’ve got. :)
August 23rd, 2009 at 1:40 pm
Do Mr. Sully’s initials happen to start with “Ken Wapnick”?
Ref Twit: Monks ask: What in the name of crispy fried bacon is JACIM? Brother Urtext whoops, “The unsullied Word of God!” just as “Mr. Sully” appears.
August 23rd, 2009 at 4:00 pm
My middle name is Anne. Does that count?
August 23rd, 2009 at 6:22 pm
(cooks bacon in the Kitchen, curious over latest doings in the monastery…)
August 23rd, 2009 at 6:45 pm
Yes Lisa middle names count. We are here to totally mess with Jamie. His first love was Jesus but he insists it was Anne Marie Johnson.
August 23rd, 2009 at 8:38 pm
Well, the “he meant it in a nice way” quote was about burning the place down.
Don’t ya love it when you say someone’s name and at that moment they show up?!
Sully? I thought they said “Sally!”
August 24th, 2009 at 10:54 am
I am sure glad the monks have asked. I’m pretty sure the J most likely won’t stand for Jesus, but I could be wrong.
August 26th, 2009 at 4:24 am
WWJD? I always think “What Would Jamie Do?”
August 27th, 2009 at 7:15 am
Yup, I was wrong.
August 27th, 2009 at 9:05 am
BM is always is a sour mood – Brother Mission, that is!
August 27th, 2009 at 1:00 pm
Can’t hunt truffles without a dog or pig. It’s the smell that gives them away.
August 27th, 2009 at 4:15 pm
I don’t know from truffles….
Thanks for telling me!
August 27th, 2009 at 9:19 pm
By the way, MY middle name is Anne!
It’s a small world, (but I wouldn’t like to paint it!)
August 27th, 2009 at 10:32 pm
Yes that makes sense now the boar went crazed cuz Sister S is hiding truffles under the forest trap door! It won’t be long before that suspicious Brother Mission finds out. The suspense! But what about Mr Sully? Oh now I’m hooked.Wait what lesson are we on?
August 28th, 2009 at 12:30 am
My sister’s middle name is Ann but we don’t call her SisterMidAnn. Maybe we should, it sounds kinda nice. {;-}
I think JACIM might be “Jesus’ A Course In Miracles”, called such by the Urtext purists, especially the ones who fought Ken Wapnick over the copyright. (They’re still pissed.) Hence, the ‘unsullied’, as it was the text as given to Helen before Jesus had Helen, Bill and Ken edit out the personal references and conversations. That’s why I thought maybe Mr. Sully was a reference to Ken Wapnick. He is the only living person involved in the editing (sullying) {that’s a joke} that took place to give us the current ACIM available from Foundation for Inner Peace.
I’m usually wrong about my ‘takes’ on things, so shhh, don’t repeat me.
Plus maybe a truffle boaring.
Love,
Deb
August 28th, 2009 at 7:29 am
I would have hidden the Urtext under a trap door!
But that’s just me.
I don’t like truffles, so….
August 28th, 2009 at 7:34 am
Hope its the boar grunting …
You know truffles sell for $400.00 a pound!
Ms. Deb you are never boaring :)
August 28th, 2009 at 7:36 am
Debbi, You are NOT booring. The explaination helps me out. I knew there was a dustup over the copyright but I haven’t delved into the history of such things yet. Have seen a strange version of ACIM in the book store that had mixed in Hinduism and such. Was in a hurry that day so didn’t check it out to much. Might go back for a 2nd look-see.
August 28th, 2009 at 7:20 pm
Looks like a Flying Nun would save the day!
Brother Mission is about to become *one* with the wild boar, for sure!
And merge with the Infinite (?)
September 1st, 2009 at 3:02 pm
Oh AT LAST! ACIM for bodies! i could have told him a thing or two, though. I guess the manuscript is already written, then. I’ll have a copy, please.
September 1st, 2009 at 9:38 pm
Acim for Bodies? Like ACIM for Dummies?
September 3rd, 2009 at 6:34 am
I H O P E (indignantly grmpphh) that Sister S is one of that fearless group!
September 4th, 2009 at 10:00 am
My 11 year old son is avidly following to saga of our Trapped Monk. Yesterday, he read it and ran to get my ACIM to see what lesson 48 says. (OK so I don’t have every lesson memorized yet, I’m working on it:) When we turned to it and he read it, he just busted out laughing! It was a really sweet moment. Thank you, monk.
September 5th, 2009 at 5:51 am
Brother Blase’
We barely knew ye.
September 5th, 2009 at 6:00 am
Lisa how wonderful to enjoy the twits of our Trapped Monk with your son! He will always remember lesson 48; for that matter so will I.
I have to admit I didn’t see the blood and death thing coming but then how could it not, it’s part of the “fearsome” mentality. That Brother Blase was always so dramatic I will miss his humor. Onward to the prayer vigil Sister Ann is depending on us.
September 5th, 2009 at 9:49 am
Lisa, So cool with your son . I had been wondering if anyone else had kids that showed an interest in Course stuff.
September 6th, 2009 at 3:30 pm
I have the silliest images of what it is to be trapped in a pork-haze. I think that this is a world-premiere of a word, too. Here’s to jamieeeeeeeeeeee!
September 8th, 2009 at 9:39 pm
CIA? Non-sense! Sensory receptor sights without sense!
Theta, Eta, Zeta -wait a minute…
Here come the “Men In Brown Burlap” instead of the “Men In Black?”
September 12th, 2009 at 3:36 pm
I am getting a sneaking suspicion that Sister S EITHER is in drag – OR a Cuban woman fled from her homeland and castro. We will see.
September 14th, 2009 at 2:59 pm
Swatted – like a fly!
Don’t taze me, bro!
September 19th, 2009 at 5:09 pm
“Turn the other cheek” too obvious!
Even for out little dude…
September 20th, 2009 at 2:16 pm
Maybe she is Pleadian and would rather you said “Your Holy MotherShip”
September 20th, 2009 at 2:31 pm
Or your Moly Hotherness.
see, this is such a HARD path, Monk.
September 20th, 2009 at 3:47 pm
Debbi- you’re killing me! I can’t stop laughing!
I think part of my laughing is I’m laughing at myself. Whenever I hear stuff about the pleiadians and other ET’s, my ego go nuts. Ooohhh, that must be so special, let’s think about that and all that it means and why, and what it would be like if they visit, etc, etc, etc.
How many ways can I distract myself??? Let’s not go there, I’ll never get home!
September 21st, 2009 at 6:10 pm
Mother Helena is actually a very comforting thought to me.
Even with the cigar.
Which is, I’m sure *just* a cigar.
September 24th, 2009 at 12:15 pm
Trapped Monk
I know what you mean about the Messiah Complex.
I had a “Jesus Christ SuperStar” Complex once.
Anything by Andrew Lloyd Weber.
Took me years to stop singing it.
September 24th, 2009 at 2:07 pm
You are so cracking me up with the Messiah complex thing. You think counseling will really help? Good luck with that one…
September 25th, 2009 at 8:46 pm
A tickling counsellor…. now Who does that remind me of?
September 25th, 2009 at 11:02 pm
A gentle tickle. Yes, that seems just the right thing to cure a Messiah complex.
September 27th, 2009 at 3:55 pm
Thought maybe our bacon-loving Brother could use a little pepping up just about now… bolster his courage a little before going to see Abbott Pacino… perfect to wear to first session.
September 28th, 2009 at 5:22 pm
It seems that our Trapped Monk and Sister Silence may be able to help each other get Home…hmmm we’ll have to see what they decide the purpose of their relationship is for….the saga continues….
September 30th, 2009 at 8:21 pm
I think the purpose is to drink wine and be happy all the time…
Not MY purpose, mind you – Trapped Monk’s and Sister Silencio’s purpose!
September 30th, 2009 at 11:29 pm
I’m wondering if maybe Trapped Monk and Sister Silence are really perfect mirrors for each other. Then if they give their relationship to Jesus, he could use that perfect mirror part to help them each bring their illusions/ego to the light faster and more directly than they could do so individually.
In my mind I imagine that is how Arten and Pursah’s relationship is in their last lifetime.
The temptation, of course, is to allow the relationship to degenerate into an ego disaster.
The saga continues…..
October 1st, 2009 at 7:15 am
Interesting- the word “disaster” comes from
dis- (from Latin) + astro – star
I’m curious. Would someone please post where all these DU blogs are. Thanks.
October 1st, 2009 at 11:20 am
Thank You, Nina. I was confused- I already had that info.
I thought to myself “There has got to be an EASIER way.”
What I meant was, of Course,”There has got to be a BETTER way!”
October 1st, 2009 at 12:09 pm
TX Anne: The Disappearance of the Universe (DU) Group is on Yahoo.
They discuss Gary Renard’s books ‘Disappearance of the Universe’ (DU) and ‘Your Immortal Reality’ (YIR). Arten and Pursah are from these books. As any ‘discussion group’ per se, there may be (clears throat, speaking softly, almost inaudibly) just a wee tad bit of Course head-bonking there now and then. Etc. But lots of deep thinkers as well…. enjoy.
October 5th, 2009 at 6:19 am
Thanks for the linkage, ya’ll – I’m gonna stay on Course here for a while.
Left my Dramamine – don’t need the *drama*
I don’t want to get abruptly lifted up and hurled into reality, as it were….
Any pie left, my Sister Debbie?
Where’s Mister Baby? I thought a heard a “meow.’
And Trapped Monk, most people run out from the woods – not into them…
Let’s all turn around and go home, eh?
October 5th, 2009 at 11:05 am
Mmmmm, pie? What pie? – {Licks lips, fingers clean from the last of the pie, brushes crumbs off lap quickly}
October 5th, 2009 at 11:09 am
Oh, I like Mister Baby! That’s a great nick-name, Anne TX!
October 5th, 2009 at 12:35 pm
Sent from Nina. Thanks Nina.
October 8th, 2009 at 2:51 pm
Anne in TX, WAKE HIM UP!!!!
October 8th, 2009 at 4:21 pm
zzzzzzzz
did somebody say something?
I, er, uh, musta dozed off….
:]
October 8th, 2009 at 5:31 pm
Into eternity where all is one (not millions) crept a tiny, mad idea of a spider…..
October 8th, 2009 at 5:37 pm
Anne in TX: Exactly!
October 9th, 2009 at 10:35 am
“Hi Sleepyhead?” he says.
I dreamed last night I was wearing Spiderman Pajamas.
“Hi yourself!” hmmph..
October 9th, 2009 at 12:23 pm
A Pacino always seems to find you where ever you may run…
October 15th, 2009 at 3:21 pm
Seriously. Somebody need to fire that cook. Risky in these days. (In Norway, the pigs at two farms have the flu now.)
How about oatmeal for a change. Frugal food ffoo ffooo
October 19th, 2009 at 3:45 pm
Sister S.O.S. it is.
October 20th, 2009 at 1:15 pm
Dreamy, Head of Security, might not know Morse Code.
But he Does know MORRIS Code.
All Cats know MORRIS Code.
October 20th, 2009 at 1:25 pm
TX: My Gawd, she’s done it again!! You make it tough to take ANYTHING seriously, TX!
I was getting a little worried – maybe T.M. isn’t aware of exactly what he’s sending in signal to S.S. Only she knows, and she’s not tellin…
♡
October 20th, 2009 at 1:34 pm
NUN the less, I think the message was conveyed!
October 20th, 2009 at 2:50 pm
debbi, IMMEDIATELY tell us how you do this little heart
please
October 20th, 2009 at 3:09 pm
Nina, I have a text program that comes with my browser – Safari – that I can paste with. I found out how to do this by googling “How do I put a Heart into my posts” – Google it and see what you come up with for your computer.
October 23rd, 2009 at 12:43 pm
This Morse-type communication is really taking a long…… time. Wonder what they’re saying to each other? Maybe I shouldn’t pry…
October 23rd, 2009 at 2:06 pm
Those somebodies would be all of us here. here – see our heads go this way – that way – this w
October 24th, 2009 at 3:47 am
“I’ve got a feeling somebody’s watching me…”
Hey! What’s that? Out there on the widow ledge, looking in at us?
Oh, it’s the money you could be saving by switching to Geigo.
Way too much TV…..
I need decaff…
October 24th, 2009 at 10:58 am
*crickets*
October 24th, 2009 at 11:14 am
“No idea where all the missing bacon went….”
October 24th, 2009 at 11:18 am
It was the dog.
Do we even have a dog?
October 24th, 2009 at 11:24 am
Yes we have a dog… Texas, meet Gibb…
Love,
D♡G
October 24th, 2009 at 11:28 am
Imposter! I can tell by the teeth it’s not Athos.
October 24th, 2009 at 11:31 am
No, not Athos, but you can tell by his teeth he’s a Gibb.
And… warp speed on the Twitter? Let’s lay back a little on the chai tea, shall we?
October 24th, 2009 at 11:34 am
Yeah, but which one? Not Andy!
October 24th, 2009 at 11:50 am
Don’t know his first name, he only told me “Gibb.” Since I am a fierce BeeGee fan, one look at his smile and I knew he wasn’t fibbing. He’s a true Gibb if ever there was one… I have an affinity for Andy… he died of what I didn’t. Barry is starting to do some really ‘deep’ stuff with his music.. Could be he’s noticing he’s on the journey that goes nowhere.
You can pick a first name for Gibb if’n ya want…
October 24th, 2009 at 11:52 am
No, I think he should be like Cher, Madonna etc. With a mouth like that he only needs one name.
October 24th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
Songs from GREASE ?
Don’t knock it – “Summer Loving” got me through an emotional crisis a while back!
The Karaoke version ROCKS!
A wella, wella, wella, hunh!
Tell me more, tell me more!
October 24th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
Maybe this will help the ‘pig lack’… guaranteed free of swine flu… it’s all yours if ya want. Hate to see F.Buck so unhappy… (I never liked Grease..) You have people that can butcher?
D♡G
October 24th, 2009 at 1:06 pm
names…Garf…Gideon (no)…Lars…Biff…?…no GIBB, of course.
October 24th, 2009 at 1:23 pm
Trapped Monk, what a teaser you are – serving us this story about light-signals and then . . . nothing??? I want my money back.
October 24th, 2009 at 2:41 pm
Oh dear, you know by now I can’t resist the video urge!!!
So here it is: Grease- staring Trapped Monk and Sister Silence?
October 24th, 2009 at 3:28 pm
Did someone mention the brothers Gibb?
Well, I can accommodate that as well! And we get to watch John Travolta. Wow, that boy can move!
October 24th, 2009 at 4:02 pm
{{Sister Silence and Trapped Monk dancing on the Grotto dance floor… Abbott Pacino watches on with a gentle smile.. Friar Buck sneaks some Pomegranate liqueur, A Pacino notes with another gentle smile….}}
Thanks for the cool videos Lisa!!
October 29th, 2009 at 8:15 pm
Please don’t make me beg again… Five days of Grease? Is this like, a.forgiveness.lesson or somethin?
October 29th, 2009 at 8:46 pm
Oh Hallelujah. A Pig Fest… or should that be Pork Fest… Swine Fest? Hog Fair? Boar Show? Sow Exhibit?… Pandemonium like this indicates they may have dropped the Hand that feeds them…
October 29th, 2009 at 10:29 pm
If you haven’t seen the movie “Babe”, now’s the time to do so.
October 29th, 2009 at 10:57 pm
Great.
A week home with H1N1 and now Babe.
Now I know why they changed the name of the virus..
:)
October 29th, 2009 at 11:48 pm
Jeez Anne, maybe Babe! will help you to look at your Swine Flu differently… I remember when I had the Bird Flu it helped me tremendously to watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest… might be worth a try..
D♡G
Legal Disclaimer: Your experience may not be as dramatic as shown by the above testimonial. It is a highly individualized program and your mileage may vary. Please consult your psychiatrist before beginning any program of self-renewal via movies, websites, or books. Especially Blue Books. Again, your mileage may vary. Well, it’s almost a guarantee they will. Actually the above testimonial is probably just a load o’ cwap.
October 30th, 2009 at 6:59 am
I saw “One FLU Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” too .
Just last week, right before I got sick.
The patient in the film was going on and on about “Form and Content,”
And I felt like I was seeing my own thoughts – not so good.
So now, I sing “I Got You, Babe!” at the top of my lungs.
And wonder why the neighbors are vexed with me.
It’s just a mid-life crisis!
October 30th, 2009 at 7:55 am
Molotov cocktails.
Growing up, I always thought they were saying “Mazel Tov.”
My mother thumped me on the head (kinda playfully) and asked
“Don’t they teach you anything in school?”
Guess I missed the day they covered explosives.
Run (through the) Forest, Monk – RUN!
October 30th, 2009 at 10:20 am
Anne: you have given me a whole new meaning to ‘looking at what’s inside’
TM: I kneww that ol’ Friar Buck would save us all!
October 30th, 2009 at 11:46 am
Dear D♡G
Well, I never said it would be pretty!
I’m working on some renovations of the ol’ Mindscape.
There’s plenty of work to do,
but I’ve entrusted a very reliable Carpenter,
and I’m gonna let him handle everything –
he asks only that I don’t interfere.
Can’t be worse than the Pee Wee Herman playhouse I’ve constructed!
Also a disclaimer- I love me some Pee Wee – but it’s not too good to live on a movie set – too much “projection!”
I KNOW you are, but what am I?
November 5th, 2009 at 1:14 pm
In anticipation of further communication between TM and SS… on the edge of my chair… love the ‘please find your nearest book on Morse Code’… SS is one classy lady.
November 5th, 2009 at 5:18 pm
D of the G
For you to be on the edge of your chair, you might have slid off your pool floatie!
I thought I heard a *ker-plunk!* and a *splash!*
Now that Nina has given poor PoolBoy a name (Marco) I can only guess he must wear POLO jeans!
That would explain alot!
November 5th, 2009 at 5:27 pm
Hubba Hubba, Polo jeans – yes, how can a girl get rescued if she doesn’t fall off her floatie now and then?
D♡G
November 5th, 2009 at 5:50 pm
Yes, but in the Hot Tub???
November 5th, 2009 at 5:59 pm
A girl’s gotta go with what she’s got available to work with… look at Sister S – and what she’s got to work with… poor TM has been in love with her for months and has not until now attempted to learn her language…
So if I need to speak ‘hot tub’ – I will.. gladly.
D♡G
November 5th, 2009 at 6:48 pm
I hear ya, Deb.
I would learn the language, too.
November 5th, 2009 at 6:57 pm
Being from Texas, I thought that was sign for “Hook ‘em Horns!”
November 6th, 2009 at 2:07 am
Allow me to clarify the above post.
The sign for “I miss you” that Sister S is showing Trapped Monk.
Being from Texas, I thought that was Sign for “hook ‘em Horns!”
November 10th, 2009 at 10:40 am
What a useful and effective practice, i must say! And what a beautiful death for the Great Old Guy – sounds like he really saw the light. I guess this means that it was HE who practised lesson 40, and that Ninjajumping was just reflexes ? but I may be W A Y off here, of course…(but so very glad the sweet pair is safe)
November 12th, 2009 at 11:17 pm
“Hook ‘em Horns” indeed!
(sign language above)
A Great Old Beast – a tiny mad idea….
November 15th, 2009 at 4:55 am
Dragging the Beast back to the Monastery…
Q: What did the tractor say to the trailer?
A: Pull me closer, John Dear!
November 15th, 2009 at 12:18 pm
I see you’ve found the pet pig I lost several months ago…
November 16th, 2009 at 7:53 am
All we need is loove—no:all we need is bacon!
there is no bacon
there is no bacon
there is no bacon
November 16th, 2009 at 8:59 pm
Hilarious Monk, Lesson 77 I am entitled to miracles. No wonder poor trapped Monk is confused. I must say as a Canuck there is something to be said for bacon especially Canadian back bacon with french toast and pure maple syrup.
November 17th, 2009 at 4:07 am
Make mine Canadian bacon as well.
November 17th, 2009 at 4:09 am
Trapped Monk – hows about a BLT sandwich with Miracle Whip?
November 17th, 2009 at 9:27 am
Bev, you sound like my kind of northerner. And TexAnne, I’d have you for a neighbor anytime—Miracle Whip and all…
November 18th, 2009 at 4:23 am
Thanks DonnaD – back at ‘cha!
November 19th, 2009 at 9:16 am
I think Trapped Monk’s head is quickly ballooning to a much larger size than his biceps….
Sister S needs to find a pin, fast!
November 19th, 2009 at 9:22 am
Sounds like he’s dreaming…
November 22nd, 2009 at 12:20 pm
Poor Brother M… counselling with A Pacino… he doesn’t cut you much slack, does he? Might be better to counsel with Mother Helena… at least you’d get a cigar out of the deal.
November 23rd, 2009 at 9:02 pm
I REALLY like the twit today… BM says: “Then what should I do??” He (AP) responds: “Don’t try to find Truth, just stop making a big deal about your big deals and Truth will find you.”
I think that’s partly what I was trying to learn from the recent class “Error Not Sin”… For now, all it took was one little twit and I was able to feel the ker-plunk… into place.
Thanks,
D♡G
November 28th, 2009 at 6:08 pm
Yes Leftovers!!!
November 28th, 2009 at 6:45 pm
Oh, Friar Buck, I so understand. Lesson 79: “Let me recognize this problem so it can be solved.”
November 28th, 2009 at 7:12 pm
You know Friar Buck, i think of myself as an intelligent woman which is ludicrous in view of the fact that i constantly overeat in spite of the fact that i know as sure as i know the sky is blue that more food does not = more enjoyment.
November 29th, 2009 at 7:19 pm
That’s that last time I do that for a Buck!
December 2nd, 2009 at 12:13 am
brilliant ! my dear twitterer…
December 2nd, 2009 at 3:29 am
…out of the Friar into the frying pan…
*rimshot!*
Thank-you-very-much!
December 3rd, 2009 at 12:10 am
Yes Texas, I like that one too… thank gawd we still have our twits about us, eh?
December 3rd, 2009 at 5:45 pm
Eureka!
Spilled stuffing?
Get the Eureka!
December 4th, 2009 at 11:10 am
Thank you, Friar Buck, for that reminder {{love}}
December 4th, 2009 at 8:28 pm
Wow, and look how neatly everything fell off my plate as I turned it over to read “Purpose is everything.” {{A. Pacino}}
December 4th, 2009 at 8:29 pm
So inspired and inspiring
Like DonnaD said
{{{{love}}}}
December 4th, 2009 at 8:48 pm
But did you have to do it while we were EATING?
December 5th, 2009 at 1:18 am
What is this for?
Exactly!
December 5th, 2009 at 5:06 am
Hey – is it just me, or does that spell PIE?
Well, purpose IS everything!
Projection makes perception.
Pass the whipping cream, please!
December 5th, 2009 at 5:52 am
And don’t EVEN get me started on form and content…
December 5th, 2009 at 4:09 pm
Hide – like why skin is called “hide”
It hides something….
December 6th, 2009 at 4:40 am
Maybe it’s humble pie – not too many calories in that mix, eh?
I’ve eaten my share of it.
Much better than the 4 and 20 blackbirds they served last week!
December 6th, 2009 at 1:13 pm
Poor B. Mission… when specialness is gone, all that’s left is ‘nice’.
December 6th, 2009 at 1:36 pm
Texanne i gotta say you have a brilliant mind…… big hugs to you xoxoxoxoox
December 7th, 2009 at 12:49 pm
Oh No! Not THE Conspiracy table … again…
December 7th, 2009 at 5:07 pm
Hey DoG and Trapped Monk:
The Conspiracy table haz got it goin’ ON!
Er, uh, UR….uh…
December 8th, 2009 at 10:35 am
A lotta dry lamas may be discussed here at the conspiracy table.
December 10th, 2009 at 7:45 pm
UR, uh, I forget….do we eat pork?
Oh, yeah, I just remembered…
Make mine Canadian Bacon please.
December 20th, 2009 at 9:27 am
oh i wish those puppy dog eyes would cheer up …..
December 21st, 2009 at 9:27 am
We may need to organize a rescue party for the trapped monk. I’m reminded of my grandma saying — if you hold that look on your face, a cold wind will blow, and freeze it like that.
December 22nd, 2009 at 10:28 pm
Monk, you are in my heart. So much Love. I have these cards with Course text on them. After I wrote these first two sentences, I put my face in my hands because I did not know what else to say.
The card I picked was “The Peace of God is my one goal; the aim of all my living here, the end I seek, my purpose and my function and my life…”
I love you.
December 23rd, 2009 at 12:49 am
What I enjoy most about Trapped Monk is seeing the clear autobiographical element in the story.
Behind the metaphors and forms I can see Jamie’s journey, and this makes it much more meaningful and interesting…
And as Ruth-Anne says, we hold him in our hearts.
Love,
Mother
December 23rd, 2009 at 7:47 am
…adding my heart string to the one goal
December 23rd, 2009 at 2:01 pm
Power outage –
Snowstorms blow in -
Trapped, isolated, praying…
That happens to me all.the.time…
*translation: it happened once*
December 24th, 2009 at 1:49 pm
A star by any other name. Coming out of the darkness is coming out of the darkness. SWEET!
By the way…..I agree too.
December 25th, 2009 at 7:24 pm
Ahhh, sweeeet baby Jesus, of course.
December 25th, 2009 at 7:54 pm
Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I’m dreaming
I can hear them say…
Carry on my wayward son…
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don’t know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I’m like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say…
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
The center lights around your vanity
But surely heaven waits for you
Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more
Kansas “Carry On My Wayward Son”
Don’t you cry no more..
December 26th, 2009 at 7:19 am
to 162: maybe it is Jamie’s journey because he is journeying/Twittering for all of us within him, knowing us all as One – I can truly identify with each and every one of the twitters.
December 26th, 2009 at 2:54 pm
Happy Boxing Day, Jamie ~
“Br. Urtext: Errata Be fishing?”
You crack me up.
Speaking of spiders, have you seen
the second Harry Potter movie?
{{{Scary spider scene}}}
My local pet store has a cute tarantula
for sale.
I’m sure she can be shipped.
Just say the word and she’s yours.
Perhaps a gift for Br. Urtext.
As you can tell, I’m not quite over this
separation, me v. them thing.
But I’m working on it.
Top of my New Year’s Resolution list
for 2010, or maybe 2011
We’ll see.
December 27th, 2009 at 10:18 am
Trapped Monk,
I SO want to borrow that book from you when you are finished – about the five spiders you meet in heaven. Please?
and are there pictures too?
and are there stories, or just biology?
are there karmic bonds between you and them?
is it maybe a children book?
well, all the same to me, I really would like to borrow it.
(If there are NO pictures, I might love to illustrate it.)
December 27th, 2009 at 9:46 pm
Errata be fishing…. Now, THAT is funny.
December 27th, 2009 at 10:04 pm
Personally, I was hoping to get “How To Seduce Your Pool Boy”… But all I got was “How To Control Irregularity”… What does that mean, anyway? Your heartbeat? (Mine’s regular).. Your exercise program? (I don’t have one)… Your resistance to reading your daily Lessons? (Been there done that)..
Maybe Santa should re-think the spider thing with Jamie… we do after all want him to survive his vacation….
Love,
Mother
Or do we?
December 30th, 2009 at 10:23 am
“Trying to be the conductor” how true! In the New Year will I learn to get out of the way?
December 30th, 2009 at 12:48 pm
Me too, Bev… I have grown so accustomed to being up here on the conductor’s box, baton in hand… and YIKES, let someone else do it now? You kidding or something? I’m maybe just now noticing what terrible music I am conducting, and how all the band members are like skeletons, playing only for my entertainment, sorrowful and in pain… There’s gotta be another way!! There’s gotta be another band!! There’s gotta be another song…. *sigh*
December 30th, 2009 at 2:45 pm
“and how all the band members are like skeletons, playing for my entertainment, sorrowful and in pain.” Oh Mother, all my band members, too!
I didn’t think I was trying to conduct, but I do kinda remember sort of pounding my baton on the podium alot.
December 30th, 2009 at 2:58 pm
::::Katrina!!:::::
December 30th, 2009 at 3:12 pm
Buckshot, right between the eyes… exits stage….
December 31st, 2009 at 10:42 am
At last! Trapped Monk is kissed by Sister Silence! reliefed sigh from Rykkinn
December 31st, 2009 at 11:22 am
Yes, Sister S saves the day with her love. But is it human love or Divine Love? Is Trapped Monk speaking in metaphor?
Here is a bit of metaphor from Saint Clare of Assisi-
Draw Me After You!
Draw me after you!
We will run in the fragrance of Your perfumes,
O heavenly Spouse!
I will run and not tire,
until You bring me into the wine-cellar,
until Your left hand is under my head
and Your right hand will embrace me happily
[and] You will kiss me with the happiest
kiss of Your mouth.
-Saint Clare of Assisi
And a brief explanation: In this poem Clare sings of her love of God as if He were a classic Italian lover- all fragrance, wine, and kisses. Some will say that human love is a pale reflection of the experience of the union with God, but it is surely the closest metaphor we can find- which is why it has been used in all traditions throughout time.
December 31st, 2009 at 11:43 am
Yes Lisa…that’s the Passion we are looking for.
Now if my ego would just stop thinking about where that right hand is exactly…
that’s bad
I better get off this computer and start washing my dishes!
December 31st, 2009 at 11:55 am
Oh, me too guys!! And for me, LaAnnie, it’s really all about “kissing me with the happiest kiss of your mouth…. ”
I’m melting under that kiss….. Melting can’t be bad, can it? I mean – like – it’s really all about letting your ego melt under the taste of His kiss?
Oo-la-la… Sister S has certainly inspired me today!!
December 31st, 2009 at 11:59 am
It’s getting hot in here…
December 31st, 2009 at 12:06 pm
Whew!! Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash… oh wait. That’s Christmas..
Ok.. fluffing shirt to get more air… turning on a fan?
{;-)
December 31st, 2009 at 12:08 pm
OHHH Mama you’re so funny!
my dishes are waiting but I don’t care…
December 31st, 2009 at 12:13 pm
The only redeeming value to doing the dishes at this point would be to cool off my hands…
At least somethin would be normal again… {{Kisses and hugs}}
December 31st, 2009 at 12:19 pm
hee hee typing with wet digits
December 31st, 2009 at 1:07 pm
I had to cross out what I previously had written here… it was TOO bad…Oops! Pretend I didn’t just say that.. Like *poof* it disappears right after
you read it. heh heh
Glad you like your name… it’s beautiful, and suits you. Wasn’t that always your name?
“Beautiful suits”?
December 31st, 2009 at 1:46 pm
Kisses and Hugs to you and yours Mother Superior.
I’m in a fun loving mood today; thanks for playing along…sorry if I lead you down a slippery slope.
I’m sure Sister S’s kisses were filled with pure love and passion like St. Clare of Assisi and I turned around and defiled them…
I forgot I wasn’t in the grotto…now I’m “trapped”.
Naaah I’m feeling too good… I’ll just forgive myself and move on
luv you mean it!
December 31st, 2009 at 6:03 pm
{Sprinkles fairy powder all over the place} All clean now!!! LOL
Can’t wait to hear what happens with Sister S and TM after their first kiss… still swooning…
January 1st, 2010 at 6:06 am
Betrayed again with a Judas kiss…
January 1st, 2010 at 9:48 pm
Kisses….??? Wow what a difference a day makes. :)
January 1st, 2010 at 10:17 pm
It is just absolutely amazing what kisses can do….and stars…and the moon.
I’m entranced.
January 1st, 2010 at 10:21 pm
For at least a “little” while…
January 2nd, 2010 at 9:39 am
The Monk is on his way back to the Monastery!
Sister S’s kisses worked their magic…pure as the snow
The stars and moon, portals to our soul
Sweetness
January 2nd, 2010 at 11:00 am
Yes Rutie, let’s stay here a “little” while
January 2nd, 2010 at 1:01 pm
What a divine day for Trapped Monk…
January 2nd, 2010 at 1:24 pm
Tell us a story Mother …
preferably something about sweet kisses
January 2nd, 2010 at 1:47 pm
If ever there were a sweet kiss it was the one I received
while journeying in the land of Time..
The first moment I realized that he loved me,
the instant we met, yet unspoken..
As his sweet kisses still cling to my face
I touch it with the softest strokes, remembering..
His eyes.. his silhouette.. his love…
No use for words in the embrace beyond syllables,
For true love needs no declaration, has no need,
Only its softest presence to remain with me forever.
{Exits stage left… with not just a few giggles.. hope you liked your little story, LaAnnie}
January 2nd, 2010 at 2:02 pm
sighs …oh yes mother you are truly superior
January 2nd, 2010 at 2:06 pm
Thank you, sweet one…
January 2nd, 2010 at 2:17 pm
or were you channeling St. Clare of Assisi?… either way, thanks for accommodating.
I’m trapped under a spell…but I’m not resisting it. I’m gonna hang here with Ruthie for awhile.
I thought I heard Sister Silence moan during her flurry of kisses. I will wait and see what the New Year brings :)
January 2nd, 2010 at 2:37 pm
Who knows? I have been known to channel Bugs Bunny before… must be somethin to it. {;-)
I think that same ’spell’ has hit many of us.. Sister Silence’s warm kisses.. Our symbolic desire for ’something more’
seems to be playing out in our lives… Oh, to know the ending… Or rather, the ending of our belief in the scarcity of Love.
January 2nd, 2010 at 2:45 pm
need kleenex…it’s a good thing ;)
January 2nd, 2010 at 4:08 pm
Ya’ll …*sniffles*
January 2nd, 2010 at 4:16 pm
Ya’ll – the blue moon thing –
Trapped Monk – omg -
January 4th, 2010 at 5:07 pm
After that sweet kiss our trapped monk has a spring to his step. Me thinks a special relationship is brewing.
January 4th, 2010 at 7:49 pm
I just hope he is coming home to the monastery soon. I know it is selfish but I miss the sound of his voice.
January 5th, 2010 at 9:47 am
Interesting, too, that the moon (*sigh*) only reflects light.
So, once again, we prefer the reflection, the shadows..
The sun itself is just too bright for the body’s eyes.
January 5th, 2010 at 6:18 pm
Yes, always the gentleman…
Drawn like a moth to a flame.
January 5th, 2010 at 10:05 pm
What I was trying to say above…
I could picture TM standing there being in the world but not of it. A beautiful moment of stillness.
January 5th, 2010 at 10:12 pm
What a beautiful picture that is, LaA
January 5th, 2010 at 11:30 pm
wow!
January 5th, 2010 at 11:53 pm
Pssst! Over here!
Sisters – a word, if I may?
I think TM is the male equivalent of “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria”!
I think he is all.up.in.da.world! And of it!
Trapped Monk – a word, if I may?
RUN!
The key words you mentioned: In my mind…
It’s only in your dim little mind…
I mean that most lovingly, Altar Ego Monk!
{Walks off whistling ♫♬♫ He climbs a tree, and scrapes his knee….♪♬♫}
January 6th, 2010 at 12:00 am
Oh, wait!
Is that just my projection of my own transference stuff onto the poor guy?
Oh, well!
{Walks off, snickering into hand – “Altar” Ego INDEED! hehehe!}
January 6th, 2010 at 8:19 am
Anne/Texas: I’m gonna be humming “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria” all day now!
Such a catchy jingle.
What concerns me is that you were up at midnight writing this…not like you. You sure can burn that candle at both ends and remain playful the whole time. I love that about you. Sorry I wasn’t up for the Sista conference.
Off to work now whistling “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria”…it’s gonna be a good day.
Hugs,
Annie
January 6th, 2010 at 8:28 am
LA Lady – LaAnnie:
It’s massive amounts of Monster drink that empowers me through the hard times.
Couldn’t sleep – dreaming about HTML
January 6th, 2010 at 11:03 am
Trapped Monk – when i read your last twitter, Great shiver happened within – rush of energy -
January 8th, 2010 at 12:23 pm
Me too Nina. Love to you, our dear Monk. So much love.
January 13th, 2010 at 5:52 pm
Ab Pacino conducts the symphony… and plays your wedding song.. then “I close my eyes and follow my heart home….”
Monk, your wedding day twitter could not be more lovely…
All my love to you and Bonnie,
Mother
January 13th, 2010 at 7:48 pm
Ditto what Mom says above…..
February 10th, 2010 at 9:58 am
Trapped Monk is untrapped. He has disappeared into the heart of Beethoven where the Cavatina plays endlessly.
Beginning today the daily lesson will now appear in the footer (the bottom of the main page), and a new room has been added to The Rooms of the Monastery where the daily lesson or anything about A Course in Miracles can be discussed: The Class Room.
February 10th, 2010 at 10:45 am
Trapped Monk is untrapped. Indeed. He has left the monk on the mountain and has taken Jesus’ gentle path Home. :) :) :)
February 10th, 2010 at 1:47 pm
Fair ye well, former Trapped Monk. I will see you again when I get untrapped also. :)
February 15th, 2010 at 8:04 am
I have copied all of the Trapped Monk entries into this post so that they can easily be read in sequence.