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The Rude Monks Who Taught Me about Self-Compassion

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We became friends for no apparent reason; we both wordlessly agreed that it was a meant-to-be connection.I spent a few placid months with them on the lush volcanic island, eating avocados the size of a toddler’s head, hiking through fields of dried lava, and indulging in an abundance of remarkable sunsets.

In between these adventures, I continued to work at the French café for the sole purpose of eating countless crepes and meeting interesting individuals.It was especially slow at work that day.

I was passing the time by chatting with Flo, my cute, tiny boss, while enjoying a latte and a lilikoi macaron. By the time our only clients had left, I noticed they had forgotten a book behind.

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