Idleness And The Soul

St. Benedict of Nursia said that "Idleness is the enemy of the soul."

The reason idleness is the enemy of the soul is that without work or activity that engages the spirit, mind and body in a meaningful way, we become lazy and allow ourselves to fall prey to various vices.

I notice this to be the case in a few areas in my life.  For example, if I have more than a week off work I start to get itchy and antsy, looking for something to do.  And often times, instead of using this time to do something productive like staining a fence or touch-up paint the wall or put on that second coat of paint on the coffee table, I end up lying on the couch, lazying around, bored out of my mind.

Another example is in the winter time when I'm not as active as in the summer; same thing, unless I have a disciplined, directed activity, such as reading a chapter of a book or the Bible, or instead of praying,  I end up sleeping the afternoon away.

Spiritually speaking, idleness leads my mind into a destructive frame.  I start thinking negatively about just about everything: life, relationships, work, you name it.  Life loses meaning, hours bleed into days, and days into weeks of numbing no-sense existence.

St. Benedict's solution, as I've already alluded to, is to "be employed in manual labour at certain times, at others, in devout readings."

Winter's coming, and along with that, usually a certain kind of apathy and idleness.  Shorter days.  Darkness.  Cold weather.  Discomfort.

Hybernation has its pluses, like sleeping in on weekends, or watching a film on the couch, but if inattentive to the needs of the soul, winter can be weeks and weeks of paralyzing idleness.

How will I keep disciplined this winter?

Meeting The Wittenbergs

I saw James and Paul for lunch today.  My goodness, what a treat to see them and share a meal with them.  How I wish they we lived closer, all of us.

What I appreciate so much about them is our ability to converse on matters of the heart, soul, and intellect.  Relationships.  Providence.  Vocation.  Purpose.  Direction.

We had such a great time together, it reminded me of our university days together.  James and I have had similar times more recently at seminary, but having Paul part of the picture was fantastic.

Paul is a broken man.  Oh Lord, broken to pieces.

But Lord, you're upholding him by the palm of your hand.  Lord have mercy on your servant, have mercy, have mercy on him.  Amen.

The Worst Day Of The Year

Halloween is by far the worst day of the year for me.

Not only are the Fall days getting shorter, the weather colder, and the grass and trees around us deader, it seems like the spiritual shadows and darkness are stronger too.

Neighbourhood displays and children's costumes are getting increasingly cynical and sinister.

Deep spiritual truths - the spirit world, the demonic, death and hell - are made light of and, even celebrated.  Halloween is the epitome of spiritual darkness.

Whenever I go to Mexico I feel uncomfortable with the painted faces and skulls that are so popular in their expression of the Catholic faith, but in that context it's not a denial of the spiritual realm, but a confirmation thereof.  All Saints Day - tomorrow - is after all, a day when we celebrate the lives of the saints that have gone before us.

Here, where I live in this cesspool that is secularism, Halloween is at best complete ignorance about the spiritual world, and at worst a glorification of the demonic.

That Gut-Wrenching Feeling

After spending the last 9 days in Vancouver, I flew back to Saskatoon today.

And I got the feeling that I always get just before leaving the west coast and returning to the prairies, gut-wrenching anxiety, even anguish.  I imagine it's because of a whole range of feelings that race through my head:

the feeling of leaving something behind

nostalgia - a flooding of past memories

departing the adventurous and returning to daily routines

unresolved conflicts with family and friends

loneliness - the sense of having to experience something on one's own

C S Lewis once said something along the lines of 'there must be another world, because we all have unfulfilled longings that we intuit only another world could satisfy; in fact, we were made for this other world.'

I wonder whether the feelings of anguish I feel has to do with this sense of longing.  The loneliness I feel when leaving one place for another is perhaps not so much because I am going through it "on my own", but because of a deep knowledge that whether I stay here or go elsewhere, or whether I go through this process alone or with someone else, there are needs, deep needs, that will be unresolved no matter what.

The good thing in all of this is that it only takes 2 days for me to "get over" the feeling of despair.  Once I'm back at home, I get busy, reimmersing myself in daily life, work, reconnecting with people, friends, and coworkers, "forgetting" about the feelings I had at the end of my trip.

Heavenly Father, thank you for this trip to the west coast.  Thank you for reminding me that though we feel lonely at times, you are always with us.  Amen.

Life In Prison

Depression must feel like living in a prison.

I've had periods of depression, deep sadness, but one way or another, eventually I "snap out of it", I find a way out of the gates of hell and into the open air.  

I can't imagine how someone who deals with it their entire life must feel.  How do they cope?  How do they get by?  And how do they make sense of it theologically, spiritually?

And what would it be like having a spouse who is depressed?  Would there not be guilt feelings on either side?  The one depressed feels guilty for chaining the other person to it, bringing them "into the prison", and the other person feels guilty for not being compassionate enough.

A Trip To The Hospital

Besides Daniela, one of the things that has given me much joy has been a board game meet up I discovered a few months ago.  We meet usually one a month, at a tea house in town.

Marco came along last night.  We played Carcassonne.

Anyways, last night, after having a great evening playing games, I had another one of those panic attacks that have plagued me the past month.  In fact, I was so affected that I could not go to sleep; my heart was pounding, I thought it was going to jump right out of my chest.

I actually ended up going to the hospital to get myself checked out.  I was so panicked, I thought they'd cut my chest open and do surgery or something.  I can't remember being so afraid of dying.  I was praying all the way to the hospital.

I don't know what's going on...

That Same Panic...Again

I went skiing again with Michelle, and like last time, I had some kind of a panic attack where I had a hard time breathing.  I continued, but at a slower pace, and things seemed to be fine after that.  But I admit that terrifying thoughts about heart attacks are making their way into my mind when these attacks happen.

I've always considered myself to be comfortable with the idea of dying.  My faith in the afterlife instructs me to approach this topic with a sense of certainty, not in my worthiness of heaven, but in God's goodness.  But it's one thing to have a theological comfort about the afterlife, and quite a different to experience the vulnerability and fragility of life.

I've stopped swimming, in the meantime, probably as much because it's now cold enough to go skiing instead, as because I'm afraid of getting more panic attacks. 

Becoming A Benedictine Oblate

A few years ago, while still living in BC, I was thinking about becoming a Benedictine oblate.  I felt that it was important to adopt for myself a Rule of Life - guidelines, principles to which I adhere in all decisions of life - and be attached to a community of people who support and encourage each other in bringing that rule to life.

Then I got busy: I got a new job, moved to the prairies, bought a car and a house, and so on and so forth.  And of course, my relationship with Michelle earlier this year also kept me busy.

But after breaking up with Michelle, 2 things happened: I had a lot more time on my hands, and I didn't know how to fill that time.  This second point became more acute and stressful when I began feeling tremendous feelings of loneliness and discontent.

Fortunately, around the end of March I ventured out on a day trip to a monastery in Muenster, to participate in Oblate Day there.  My experience was quite positive, attending Mass, lunch, and a lecture afterwards.  I also talked to Fr. Paul, in charge of hospitality and oblates at the monastery, and got a really good feeling about re-engaging in the whole conversation regarding becoming an oblate.

That was March; fast forward to today.  I went to Oblate Day again (there are 4 such days per year), and went through the same routine as last time, attending Mass, lunch, lecture, and a short meeting with Fr. Paul.  We both concluded that since I'm quite familiar with the Benedictine tradition already, I am ready to take the next step: make my novitiate vows.

These vows will take place at the next meeting, on October 24th.  In the meantime, I have "homework", 3 readings: 1- the Rule of St. Benedict; 2- A Mystical Portrait of Jesus (Demetrius Dumm), and 3- Poustinia (Catherine Doherty).

This year is turning out to be a momentous year.  First, joining the Roman Catholic Church in April, and now taking my novitiate vows to join the Benedictines.  I will be a Novice for one year before making full vows.

Here, in short are my vows (BCMSS):

1- Balance

2- Change (Continuous Conversion)

3- Moderation

4- Simplicity

5- Stability (Commitment)

By God's grace, these vows will keep in check my thirst for (GPPSW):

1- Glory / Fame

2- Pleasure

3- Power

4- Security

5- Wealth

Ode To Flamenco

Last night was one of those evenings that I will not soon forget.  I went to a flamenco act and left completely blown away.  Dance.  Song.  Art.  Story.  The performers - Miguel Infante, Celedonio Garrido, and Ricardo Diaz - are from Spain, and together with local performers they put on a show that stole my heart.

Flamenco captivates my soul like few other things.  Canto (singing), toque (guitar playing), baile (dance), jaleo (vocalizations and rhythmic sounds), palmas (clapping), and pitos (finger snapping) are all part of the flamenco experience.  Add to this the elements of traditional dress and musical instruments, and the experience becomes intensely physical.

Something from the spiritual realm draws me into the experience, I'm sure.  Maybe it's the human story that's told in this beautiful art form.  Stories of delight and ecstasy, and stories of loss and despair; stories of connection and stories of loneliness; stories of triumph and stories of defeat; stories of thriving and stories of suffering.  

Come to think of it, it's the stories of heart wrenching hardship that resonate deeply within me.  Mysteries.  The unresolved and unresolvable.  The broken.  The stuff of this world.  These are realities I'm well familiar with not only in my life but also in what I see all around me.  Longing - for connection with the world around me, with my fellow neighbour, and with God.  Longing for the next world.  Heaven.  These are good desires that I yearn to have fulfilled.  And yet, they are not...yet.

I haven't read or studied much about the origins of flamenco but I''ve heard there are Indian, Arabic, and Spanish links.  The wailing sounds of jaleo, for example, are present in all 3 cultures.  This is, in my mind, a great example of the fluidity in space and time of ideas and ways of living.

Equally intriguing is the gipsy connection.  The Roma or gitanos are nomadic, always on the run, never settling, never finding a place to call home.  This makes for an easy connection with people of faith.  We too are nomads, pilgrims, on the run.  On our way somewhere else. One could also state it positively: pilgrims are at home everywhere.  They are resilient, able to deal with whatever comes their way.  The world is their home.  Whatever the case may be, pilgrims are on the go.

Flamenco is a celebration of life.  The colours of the dresses, the powerful guitar riffs, the intense clapping, finger snapping and foot tapping, the trance-inducing rhythms, the stories shared, the elegance and dignity in dance movements, the "oles" and smiles of approval by and between both, performers and audience, these are all attributes that in a simple yet profound way encapsulate the human experience: in good times and in bad, we're all in this together, let's make the best of it...

And to that I would add the exhortation: ...pursuing all that is good, true, and beautiful.

Daytrip To Monastery

After my recent breakup with Michelle, I felt the need today to get out of my house.  So I did.  I drove to Muenster, and visited a monastery.

I met an interesting priest there, Fr. Paul, and we had a good conversation.  After a few years of not really being in a heads pace to make my oblation and join a monastic community while living "outside the walls", today the thought of becoming an oblate resurfaced.  I will do some thinking and hopefully come back in a few months' time.

Here are some pictures I took of the monastery.

Vices

Gluttony.

Sloth.

Anger.

Lust.

Avarice.

Pride.

And envy.

I didn't realize until today that envy is perhaps the vice I struggle with most.

I don't think it's always been this way.

Maybe vices accompany the various seasons and stages of life.  Right now it's envy-season.

Oh, and anger too.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a Sinner.

Buying Therapy

I'm buying a lot of things these days.  The house was just the beginning.

Now I'm thinking of adding 2 gates to the property - one at the front, and one at the back.

Walkways - along the side, along the back.

Vegetable garden - extra soil.

Appliances.  Even ones that I don't need, like a dishwasher - to fill the hole in the kitchen.

Bike.

And still to come:

Window coverings.

Barstools.

Paintings.

I'm sure there's more...

I've been feeling upbeat lately.  I wonder if my fears and frustrations are being pacified through consumerism.  If they are, eventually these will come back with a vengeance; and magnified.  How will I pacify them then?

Community

A few days ago on Friday evening I met Lisa for dinner at Amigo's.

On Monday I met Alison and Julia for brunch.  That same evening I met Eric at Earl's for a beer.

And then tonight Sanjit arrived - all the way from Vancouver!  We walked across the Broadway bridge to the Yard and Flagon Pub for dinner.

Early next week I'll be going on a boat cruise along the Saskatchewan river with my new coworkers.

 

I'm finding it so difficult to get to know people nowadays.  Mom was right when she advised me years ago not to take friendships (and relationships) for granted.  I have her words etched in my mind: "As you get older it gets more and more difficult to meet people."  Prophetic words...

The increase in social interaction with others this past week has left me full of gratitude.  I know what it feels like to be alone and with very few options - sometimes none - to engage with others, and to have a week like this, full of stimulation, laughter, conversation, and food, cannot but bring hope into a barren situation.  I pray that it will continue this way.  Genesis 1 and 2 make more sense than ever before: we're not meant to be alone.  God made us social beings.  It's in relating to others that we become fully human.

But while I'm thankful for this past week of fellowship, I can't help also feeling slightly disconcerted at the continuing possibility (even probability) of social isolation, at least in the short term.  None of the people listed above know each other, and it's unlikely that they will even meet each other.  I just don't know enough people here to make genuine community possible.  And the real tragedy in this conversation about community is that the organism best equipped to foster true humanity, the church, is just so pathetic in actually achieving it.  What a cruel irony.  What disappointment.  I doubt there's a more inadequate and hopeless place for community than in the church.

 

In my life I can think of only two periods where I felt true community.  One was when I was a young 8-or-so year old boy, back in Paraguay, growing up with the likes of Uwe, Arnold, Claudio, Viola, Janine, and others.  I think that was possibly the only time in my life that I was truly human.

More recently, almost 30 years after my childhood experiences, my soccerino friends in Vancouver came close to giving me the same acceptance that I received as a young boy.  What made this group of souls so special was that we did the best we could not to judge one another; this, in an environment with a variety of worldviews and opinions.

In fact, part of the reason the last 2 years have been by far the most difficult years of my life is because of my inability to feel fully human as an integrated member of a community.  I lost the woman that I love, my best friend.  I moved away from the very community that affirmed my humanity.  I've exiled myself from a place and a people that I love.

I wonder if I will ever experience community to such an extent again.  I pray for it.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a Sinner.

Down, Up, And Down Again

A year ago today I boarded a plane in Vancouver and landed in the prairies a few hours later.  It was a cool and foggy morning in Vancouver, and upon arrival in Saskatoon, it was snowy, grey, and -18.  The move was complete.

Here I am now, a year later, in the living room of my apartment, tired after a long day of work, reviewing in my mind what's all transpired in the past 12 months.  In some ways, this past year can be neatly divided into 3 "seasons", that curiously, mimic the seasons of the year: winter, summer, and winter.  Said differently: down, up, and down again.

Winter: last year's winter was surely the darkest winter of my life.  Sad.  Despondent.  Questioning.  Doubtful.  Lonely.  Depressed.  Insecure.  And very confused.  I didn't know up from down, and I could not for the life of me figure out why I'd been dealt the hand that I had.  It was never supposed to be like this: leaving the work force, theological studies, vocational confusion, and dispersed throughout all these events, relational joys and sorrows.

It's this last point that's been the most challenging for me to deal with; plenty of opportunities for relationships, but heartbreaks, my God, heartbreaks.  I don't believe in kharma, but at times I can't help ask myself "What did I do to deserve this hell?"

Summer: when the weather warmed up, and the snow melted, and the grass got green, my spirits were raised significantly.  Hope.  Adventure.  Excitement.  Anticipation.  Energy.  Adrenaline.  Work was going well - I'd survived the first 2 months - and I decided to venture out and see my new surroundings.  May 18th was a big day.  I drove south to the badlands, hiked the hills, and just enjoyed the various shades of greens making their way out of the earth.

The hikers and explorers that I met in the neighbouring city were a true God-send, also.  Wonderful people.  Outdoorsmen and women.  And with these great souls I conquered much of southern Saskatchewan: Grasslands, Cypress Hills, Douglas, Moose Mountain, Buffalo Pound, Wakamaw Valley, and the list goes on....

Relationally I was still wounded, but healing.  I no longer felt like I was drowning in my own pain.  In fact, I didn't feel like I wanted to drown.  Vocationally, I'd just passed my 6 month probation and I could finally go to the dentist without paying an arm and a leg for a simple teeth cleaning (granted, I only took advantage of this benefit 5 months later).

Winter: I knew I was in trouble mid-Fall of last year, when I found out the difficult dynamics of my working relationship with my boss.  Not good.  My spirit sank.  Confidence earned over the summer waned in a matter of weeks, and I began questioning myself again.  Doubts.  Accusations.  Injustices.  Anger.  Bitterness.  It was horrible.

I thought gingersnaps might change this, I really did.  But she didn't.  To be clear, I knew she wouldn't save me from my troubles, I'm wiser than that.  But I did think she might be, as they say, "the one."  But I was wrong.  Again.  My bad.  Heartbreak, again, but this time not my heart, but hers.

It's now mid-February.  Outside the snow is falling relentlessly since yesterday afternoon.  It reminds me, quite appropriately, of last year's almost daily snowfalls.  It was around my arrival time here, too, that people came up to me at work and said "Don't worry Edgar, spring'll be on the way very soon."  A month later, while we were still under a of meter of snow, Vancouver was bragging about the cherry blossoms.  April was as cold as ever.  Spring didn't actually arrive until the first week of May.

I hope that this winter's not as long as last year's.  I'm ready for spring.  I'm ready for growth.  I'm ready for up season.

Doubt

St. Hildegard's prayers just have a way of cutting through to the heart of the matter.  This one's taken from her book Scivias, and has the look, feel, and sound of a Psalm!

O God, have you not created me?

The wretchedness of earth presses down upon me!

And so I must flee and hide myself from you like Adam.

My sinful life wants to know nothing about you.

I doubt in a sense of justice;

the battle robs me of all happiness.

Do I even know if God exists?

Where is then my King and God?

Over this past year my troubles have been relational.  These troubles have settled somewhat, and I've gained a measure of peace, but just when the horizon seemed to be clearing, more dark clouds emerged.

Work is extremely hard these days.  I feel pressure mounting, and doubt is once again invading my life.

More On Repentance...

Yesterday I wrote briefly about the connection between repentance and healing, relating mostly my own thoughts about it, and ending with a prayer of Hildegard von Bingen's.  

I want to elaborate a little more on this theme, but specifically, what Hildegard von Bingen says about it.  I'm reading Walburga Storch's booklet, Prayers of Hildegard of Bingen, at the moment, and in the introduction, Storch outlines Hildegard's basic view of repentance and healing.

God's stance towards us is one of conciliatory healing: "'For I will unconditionally receive at once, and deliver into freedom the one who has sinned'", says Jesus to us, according to Hildegard.  Jesus actually offers to suffer with us in our brokenness, seeing it as the way to obtain union with God: "'Show me the wounds of your heart.  I want to suffer with you in your wounds and in doing so give you communion with the Father.'"  Jesus' willingness to suffer alongside us displays God's vulnerability; not a distant vulnerability, but one that's epitomized most clearly in Christ's own suffering on the cross.  His suffering forever reveals God's stance towards us as one of reconciliation.  Repentance is therefore at the forefront of Hildegard's theology of both, physical and spiritual healing.  Storch continues, "Without it, every kind of healing only treats the symptoms."

Furthermore, God's reconciling stance towards us shows that far from wanting to throw guilt and fear at us, God wishes to free us from both!  The implications are not only personal, but cosmic: "Repentance is not only a healing power, but the structure of the entire world rests upon its pillars.  It intervenes in the processes of life, moving and changing history and the cosmos, for with it 'we touch the stars.'  Through repentance God brings home creation poisoned by the error of humanity."

The missing link that completes Hildegard's theology is the human link.  We know God's redemptive role, but what is ours?  Our role is honesty.  God's healing work is only as effective as our willingness is to receive healing.  When we openly admit our errors, we show ourselves to be willing participants in the healing process.  When we come to God in repentance, we are made well not so much because we are the smarter or wiser for confessing our wrongdoing, but because we showed ourselves to be willing participants in moving towards God.

Repentance And Healing

Is there a connection between repentance and healing?

Last week when I met with my spiritual director, it dawned on me in a new way that yes, there does seem to be a connection between the two.  The way this came to the forefront is by wondering out loud how long the healing process takes, and more than that, God's seeming silence on this journey.

But after pondering these things out loud, it immediately dawned on me that while I share my thoughts with God frequently (see this post), I do not spend a lot of time actively searching my heart for sins of "commission or omission".  I give little thought to repentance.

Perhaps this is a natural product of living in a culture that praises self-help, self-sufficiency, and most of all, the goodness of humanity.  But, how does this theology affect healing, or the lack thereof?  Does God heal us when we only proclaim to him our goodness?

Today, while reading Prayers of Hildegard of Bingen (edited by Walburga Storch), the prayer below jumped out at me.  It's one of a number of prayers in which Hildegard connects repentance and healing:

O where have I come from,

and what am I doing now?

In my lamentation I groan out to you, O God,

because I have tainted my understanding of you

with the impurity of sin.

Have mercy on me, O Lord,

for I have stained my soul with sin.

Heal the welts of my wounds,

for I have sinned against you.

Teach me more and more my God,

to carry out holy, good deeds,

so that my confused soul

can experience healing through you.

Camino: Sobrado Revisited

After my 3rd and final day of rest in Sobrado last year on this day, this is how I felt:

* attended Laudes and Eucaristo; very lovely - there's something special about this monastery

* I'm still unsettled [after Jennifer's departure yesterday] - a tremendous feeling of desolation has come upon me; why do I feel so alone?

* monasteries always bring me face to face wtih my neediness and brokenness

* and yet, in the chapel, looking at the crucified One, I find peace; or, maybe Peace finds me...

* walked around town in the afternoon

* Visperas and Completas: "Salve Regina" - so beautiful!

* tomorrow the Camino continues: Lord have mercy!

* cleaned up room before going to sleep

Thought-Life

I met with my spiritual director this evening, and something that struck me deeply in our conversation was the whole issue of who or what we choose to pay attention to in our thought-life.  What are the thoughts in our lives that are life-giving, and do we focus our energies on those thoughts?  Which thoughts make us feel sad and depressed?  And most importantly: can we choose to direct our thought-life?

My experience this past year has been that when I'm in extreme psycho-spiritual pain, I find it next to impossible to think about anything other than that pain.  My whole outlook is clouded by an overwhelming sadness, so that lofty thoughts about God, for example, become next to impossible.  Instead, I find myself mulling over scenarios that are not resolvable: Why did it happen to me?  What did I do wrong?  What could I have done differently?

The more I think about these questions, the more I get upset and obsessed, because these are questions that I don't have the answer for and never will.  My mind eventually gets stuck in a destructive cycle, and the worst of it is that I seem unable to choose otherwise.

In my conversation with my director tonight, I likened this destructive fixation to the pain that we feel when we hurt physically: when someone hits my finger with a hammer, the most natural response is fixation on that pain.  Our sole attention becomes the pain, and searching for ways to lessen it.  My body at that point overrides any "life-giving" thoughts such as sipping a piña colada at a beach in Cuba.  All I want is a painkiller.

Is it not the same with psycho-spiriutal pain?  Can we think about the finer things in life - faith, hope, and charity - when we're grieving the loss of a loved one?  My experience has been that I want to focus on anything but those things.  Intellectually, perhaps, I could tell myself that "all will be well" as Julian of Norwich said, but that hardly lessens the pain.  Indeed, in some ways it intensifies the pain, because I have to deal with the torture of knowing that things could be better, but aren't.

Canal Or A Reservoir?

 If you are wise...you will show yourself a reservoir and not a canal.  For a canal pours out as fast as it takes in; but a reservoir waits till it is full before it overflows, and so communicates its surplus....We have all too few such reservoirs in the Church at present, though we have canals in plenty...they (canals) desire to pour out when they themselves are not yet inpoured; they are readier to speak than to listen, eager to teach that which they do not know, and most anxious to exercise authority on others, although they have not learnt to rule themselves....Let the reservoir of which we spoke just now take pattern from the spring; for the spring does not form a stream or spread into a lake until it is brimful....Be filled thyself; then, but discreetly, mind, pour out thy fullness....Out of thy fullness help me if thou canst; and if not, spare thyself."

Bernard of Clairveaux (12th century)

-----

This great quote was in our church bulletin this morning.  It seems to me what St. Bernard points out has the ring of truth to it.

Too many times I speak when I should listen.

Too many times I teach when I should learn.

Too many times I rule when I should submit.

Too many times I act when I should wait.

At some level these tendencies are part and parcel of being human.  But also, I live in a time when there is little use for virtues like patience, humility, and long-suffering.

Lord, teach me to be a Reservoir of your Life.  Amen.