On Labels

by Elena Coe

We are a couple classes into our program now, and we've begun to discuss what it means to be a monk. After all, we're all here to learn about being more monk-like, so it only makes sense to work out some kind of defining factors. Right?

Given the huge scope of mysticism and monastic life throughout religions and cultures, it is hard to specify too many particulars about what a monk does. But ultimately, the overarching defining factor of monastic devotion seems to be this: to seek relationship with god/the transcendent above all else. There are certainly elements of prayer, obedience, love, and humility that generally accompany that journey towards enlightenment or eternal life, but the primary motivation for those behaviors truly makes the difference.

This all gets me to wondering, however, about intentionality versus action. On the one hand, I could argue that anyone whose intention is to seek God above all else and self-defines as a monk is, in fact, a monk. The success of their journey may not matter much if we define the monk by the act of seeking rather than by the outcomes of the search. If that's the case, then could someone call themselves a monk even if they lived in ways most people would not define as monastic? Should people who are not practiced in righteousness and love still gain the title of being a monk simply because they make efforts to do so? And more importantly, what then separates a 'normal' pious or conscious person from a monk?

To me, as an artist and writer, I've often struggled with a similar problem of defining identity. What is a writer, after all? It is simply someone who writes? How much do you have to write to fall into the category of 'a writer'? Every day? Do you have to be published? Do you have to be good? Can I simply call myself a writer because I have the intention and skill to write?

Personally, I've come to my own conclusion that self-identification matters more than what categories the outer world places me in. With that in mind, I choose to make the distinction based on what I believe feeds my spirit and makes me feel more like myself. Being a writer fits me. I don't have to write every day or be published to know that I will always love to write and that the action of writing is an integral part of who I am.

As for monasticism... I don't know that I'm confident enough yet in my own definition of what a monk is to truly know whether I feel like one. Maybe the label is intimidating me because of all its broader connotations and historical associations. I remember when I was afraid to call myself a writer because I felt it was presumptuous. Eventually, I overcame that fear because I came to sense writing as an process instead of a destination. Intellectually, I believe the same thing about monasticism. So, perhaps it is only a matter of time before I realize that I can be more than a writer, a singer, an artist, a sister, a daughter, a student, a friend... But that I can also be a monk.