We agreed I'm going to the monastery tomorrow. In the sense that they agreed they couldn't stop me. Mara's termite is still eating my platelets, but the fever is gone again and it's time to return to the forest.
Tomorrow is day seven away so any more and i'd be breaking the rains. Two yogis waiting and a Bhikkhuni coming tomorrow as well from Korea. On top of all that, the old monk was here at another ward of the same hospital, in serious condition; I'd hoped to have a chance to go see him in a few days. Now I get to go to his funeral instead - he died this morning.
So, the monastery will be different without him. I'm thinking of the line from Joni Mitchell's Circle Game 'we can't go back'. The past is fixed, but the future too seems predictable until it comes to show that it wasn't.