gatineau morning.

gatineau morning.
photo by douglas mcarthur.

Saturday, November 5, 2016


following close on the heels of my last posting: 'my prostrate issue,' i received some comments and enquiries from readers, mostly concerning my description of the monkeys. why? i felt discouraged. one person went so far as to ask if the photo of me that had been at the top of the page was one of them. unfortunate, really, even insensitive, especially considering how much energy i poured into trying to make such an important point. people expressed uncertainty about what that point was, exactly, but i can assure you it was important.

you must understand that monkeys are a force to be reckoned with over there. the toshiba retreat centre, for example, would regularly be taken over by monkeys whenever the place wasn't busy which, by the way, nobody bothered to tell me. as well, they do seem only concerned with feasting, fighting and fornicating. and they're clever. one of the pack or herd stole my favourite western shirt off the railing over which i had draped it, wouldn't return the thing until i paid a handsome ransom in the form of fruit. then, another stole a pair of my underwear. i told him to keep it, but he threw it back anyway.

what bothered me, and why i left the retreat early, was the overwhelming amount of sexual activity going on around me. it was terrible, disgusting. obviously, i have no intention of letting this blog become a forum for debating the place sex might hold within a yogic lifestyle. my whole focus in slogging this blogging is simply to help bring our collective consciousness to a high place, a pure and uplifting mind-set. suffice it to say, i did not feel i should be meditating on monkeys rutting all around me, in the court-yard, on the walls, on my porch, even in the bathroom. they had no shame, no sense of decorum.

the last straw for me was when i found two doing it doggy-style on my bed. MY BED! i mean, why couldn't they get their own room? the place was empty. they could've had the friggin honeymoon suite. when i walked in and saw those monkeys on my bed i was so shocked i froze. the sight of their furry bodies slapping together rhythmically, combined with the simultaneous realization that my mattress coils would never be the same, well, i knew i had to go. of course i waited for them to finish.

while packing, however, i found myself wondering why that specific position was even named doggy-style. it might just as easily have been called the monkey-style. because it's clearly their preferred style as well. why do dogs get to be immortalized in that fashion when most animals, and many humans, like it best that way? well, such were the quality of my thoughts as i threw the last of my things into the knapsack, a clear indication that my time there was done.

in the end, so to speak, i would prefer readers of my blog focus on the essential message, that we are all connected to one life, irregardless of race, creed, colour or even species. ones style is completely unimportant if you're doing it right. i mean, if you're living life right. as satya sai baba once noted: "the mind is like a mad mischievous monkey flitting from branch to branch. we need to meditate and gain some control over that monkey."


  1. Hi Nathan. I feel your pain here. If I had crazy monkey sex happening all around me, and not getting any, I would move somewhere else too. In fact, I have moved, several times, trying desperately to get some. You did the right thing.

  2. thx ian. i knew you'd understand...