I’m pretty sure I broke out in a big grin this morning when novelist Jonathan Odell posted a link on Facebook to an interview with him that appeared in today’s Huffington Post.
Of course, I’m always delighted when someone I know is bringing their dreams to life, but this particular dream is one I first encountered when it was a tiny gleam in Jon’s eye.
I’m not certain that I was the first person he’d shared this with, but years ago he told me about his dream of being a writer. The moment he said it, I knew he could be a terrific writer.
We often talked about writing when we were together and from time to time, Jon would send me a short piece he’d written. They were always wonderful.
Then we both got busy with our businesses and I didn’t hear from him for a long time. I did, however, keep holding that vision for him.
When his second novel, The Healing, arrived earlier this year, I bought a copy, but couldn’t read it right away. I loaned it to my daughter who finished it and urged me to do the same so she’d have someone to discuss it with.
When I had time to explore what Jon had written, I was captivated by his powerful story with an unforgettable heroine. I loved it as much as Jennie did.
Of course, I promptly wrote a fan letter to the author. I was surprised when he replied and said, “Thanks, Barbara. You got me started, remember?”
Thinking back, I wondered what I had said or done and nothing in particular came to mind. Then I remembered my secret occupation.
Several years ago, I read Dirk Gentlys Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams. I have no idea how I came across the book or decided to investigate, but it introduced me to a fascinating character: the Electric Monk. I knew that’s what I wanted to be (in human form).
According to the story, an Electric Monk is a household appliance whose purpose is to believe something on your behalf until you’re ready to believe it yourself.
Don’t you wish you could get one at Best Buy?
Since that’s not yet possible, why not become the Electric Monk for somebody else? Hold their dream for them. Believe it. See it. Gently remind them of it from time to time.
And when they’re ready to believe it themself, join them in celebrating.
Then move on and find someone else who can use your services. After all, there’s no shortage of dreams in need of their own Electric Monk.
Oh wow, Barbara, I LOVE the idea of the electric monk! Thanks for sharing this post. I can think of a few people who I’d love to take that role on for…. (and I could often do with my own electric monk watching over me!) 🙂
I agree, Claire. Often when I do retreats, I tell the Electric Monk story and invite participants to assume that role for the others in the room. Lovely occupation.
I’ll remind you of the details. You were publishing books of daily meditations for Bob Conklin and asked me to contribute. That was back in 87, I believe. You gave me the first real praise for my writing that I ever believed. AND you paid me $35 for the piece. I know because I still have it framed. That was the first time I was ever paid for writing. What you did for me is immeasurable.
I really love this idea of the Electric Monk! This gives me a name for what I have wanted to learn to do for others. Thank you so much for sharing this, and kudos to you for embodying this for Jon and for others!
Ah, synchronicity. You recommended it to me today when I asked on FB for book ideas. Then, I went into the local independent bookstore, and guess what the first thing was to catch my eye? I guess I’m destined to read this book…
It’s so worth it, Rebecca. You may not get to sleep as early as you’d like, however. It’s rather hard to put down once you get into the story.
An electric monk… now it has a name. This is a perfect description of what I already do. Love, love, love this post!