" Mom, I'm going to be a hermit," announces my twelve year old with a resigned air of finality, sighing as he pushes away his empty breakfast plate. This is a new one to me. I am not sure how to react. "Why a hermit?" I say finally. "Hermits can laze around and do absolutely nothing. Life is so cool when you're a hermit," comes the prompt reply. I can see he has been thinking about it. "But hermits have to meditate and live in the Himalayas, " I respond, a picture of a Sadhu in a loin cloth with protruding ribs and orange robes with a kamandalu by his side, coming to my mind. He thinks for a few seconds. "Either a hermit or a scuba diver," he says. He has been saying he wants to be Scuba diver ever since he could speak. "Wow," I respond. And I mean it. Each time he says it, it never ceases to charge my spirit, this moment. Then he asks, "How do Scuba divers make money?" His nine year o