The Monastery
My name is Alexs Thompson and I’m passionate about sharing my story. Every so often it really resonates with someone and they pick up a spark that inspires them to live the best possible life they can.
Experiencing those sparks in others motivated me to write a book about the life I’ve lived—thus far. This blog is a way for me to capture my thoughts and hopefully inspire others to become the superhero of their story.
I find myself talking a lot about heroes because heroes have changed my life. I’ve never been into comic books, but the idea of the superhero always excited my imagination and drove me to ever higher heights.
I’d like to share parts of my book with you and here’s the first installment. A moment when I created one of the most important missions in my life.
I remember one of the first times I retreated from the Navy and visited with the monks. We were chanting Matins, the three AM prayer service that is almost entirely composed of reading the Psalms. I had been so excited to get my day started that I set my alarm for two AM and snuck my way into the choir of the main church before anyone else had awakened. When the brothers started to shuffle their way in shaking off their deep sleep, I picked up my prayer book and concentrated every part of my body on the words on the page. The brother on my right, Paul, was equally intent on the pages in front of him even though he had been praying the same Psalms for 40 years. Father Thomas, on my right, closed his eyes, hung his head, and mumbled his way through the prayers as if he was barely interested. Standing in the choir stall was like hiding inside of a voluntary prison cell. Everyone had their own style, but all of the brothers and priests were focused on one thing: replacing everyday life with total focus on Jesus. That commitment tempted me to give away all of my possessions and join the monastery. I felt free to just be myself in the darkness and silence of the monastery.
Mornings started so early that I didn’t have time to think about Navy life and my afternoons were spent working and studying with Father James. It was a perfectly peaceful way to separate myself from the world and live my passion. It took two years back and forth between the Navy and the monastery for me to realize I couldn’t become a monk. St. Francis didn’t just hide away in a cave and devote his life to God, he spent his life’s energy inspiring people to live a better version of their lives by going where they lived and living his best life. I decided to do the same thing.
In my last week at the monastery I told my spiritual advisor, Father James, that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life there. He had been my personal priest, given me an education in monasticism, and heard my daily confession. It was a difficult conversation for both of us. I felt like I was walking away from something that fundamentally changed who I was without knowing where my life was headed. Once again, I was on the run, but I didn’t know where I was going. Or what I was running from.
Father James never said goodbye until I was standing outside waiting for Brother Benedict to bring the car around so we could go to the airport.