THINK LIKE A MONK
When I was eighteen years old, in my fIrst year of college, at Cass Business School
in London, one of my friends asked me to go with him to hear a monk give a
talk. I resisted. “Why would I want to go hear some monk?” I often went to see CEOs, celebrities, and other successful people lecture on campus, but I had zero interest in a monk. I preferred to hear speakers who’d
accomplished things in life.
My friend persisted, and fInally, I said, “As long as we go to a bar afterwards, I’m in.” “Falling in love” is an expression used almost exclusively to describe romantic relationships. But that night, as I listened to the monk talk about his experience, I fell in love.
The figure on stage was a thirty-something Indian man. His head was shaved and he wore a saffron robe. He was intelligent, eloquent, and charismatic. He spoke about the principle of “selfless sacrifce.” When he
said that we should plant trees under whose shade we did not plan to sit, I felt an
unfamiliar thrill run through my body.
I was especially impressed when I found out that he’d been a student at IIT
Bombay, which is the MIT of India and, like MIT, nearly impossible to get into.
He’d traded that opportunity to become a monk, walking away from everything
that my friends and I were chasing. Either he was crazy or he was onto
something.