A Monk Walks Down the Street Talking Into a Smartphone

In Thailand it’s common to see monks in orange robes walking the streets in sandals or barefoot. Their denial of earthly possessions and comforts is inspiring. Early in the morning I see them carrying urn-shaped containers. They stop and people put things inside—pieces of paper or wrapped candy. The monks then chant while the person stands in a prayerful position.

I could do a search to learn exactly what all of this is about, and I’m sure I will at some point—but not before I write about the monk I just saw walking down the street talking into his smartphone.

As you can probably tell from my previous sentences, I don’t know much about Buddhist monks. I don’t claim to know anything other than that they don’t seem keen on long hair or Hawaiian-shirt Friday.

As ignorant as I am, I still carry a narrative in my mind that monks don’t do things like the rest of us—like wear ball caps and jeans, much less FaceTime a friend while walking along the canal.

It’s not that I think you can’t be a devout monk if you use technology. It’s not that I think you can’t be close to God while using satellites to talk to your friend in Albuquerque.

I guess some part of me needs to believe that monks—and anyone choosing an alternative life for spiritual reasons—don’t use smartphones. And if they do, they use them quietly in the privacy of their own hut or temple or upgraded kitchen with new appliances, so the rest of us can keep believing things that aren’t true.

And I suppose what really irks me is that I’ve been trying to use my phone less and less over the past year. I removed unessential apps. No social media. You actually have to call me to reach me. Even my wife.

The other day she and I got into an argument about her use of social media, and her screen usage in general. And because I’ve been on this personal journey of denying myself technology, I’ve been feeling quite good about myself.

To be honest, the view from this moral high ground is really pretty.

But just when it can’t get any prettier or greener—and just when I think I’m getting somewhere in my relationship to technology and have a single clue about how to live in this day and age—that’s when I see a monk in an orange robe walking down the street barefoot, shaved head, without a single material possession—not even a wristwatch.

Just a small rectangle—the whole world—which he holds in the palm of his hands.