Sam Howe

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Sleeping on a wooden pallet was tolerable. Not speaking could be endured. Getting up really early was okay. Even not eating much, and bad food at that, was acceptable. But being left alone with my chattering, yammering, critical, judgemental, spiteful, questioning, complaining thoughts all day every day, with virtually no distractions – that was unbearable.
I May Be Wrong: And Other Wisdoms From Life as a Forest Monk
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