Monkish But Not Really

I dreamed I was living in a religious community. I'd been there some time. The members were all of them male and elderly. I seemed to be the youngest- a novice even- but then I thought, "No, that can't be the case because I'm seventy." We weren't monks- or at least no-one wore robes- and it wasn't clear exactly what we were supposed to be doing. Silence seemed to be the rule- and communication was mostly by gesture and facial expression. The brothers were kindly- and there was a good atmosphere. We ate in community but otherwise simply existed, getting through the day very much as we pleased. I had the sense that I was waiting to be told something, to be taught something, to have something happen.

And then came the day of my initiation. There was a structure like a four poster bed- with women lying across the poles on which the curtains were hung- and my initiation would consist of walking round the canopy on their backs...