The Climb (a dream)

Your name was my first thought this morning as I rose. I was filled with remembrance of my dream--so strong and tense, but not bad or unwelcome.

We had risen together, and wandered around the old city (which? I do not know. But it was familiar, grey, and old--like a tourist photograph of an untouched medieval town). You wanted to start the climb, but I held back.

Finally our number was called (we had a number, C9), and we joined our starting group. We were right up front, at the foot of the steep hill. The crowds in front of us began, like at a marathon. We waited, expectant, holding hands, I think (or is that a daylight wish embellishing my stark dream?).

I woke as we took our first step, my thoughts full of you.

But, upon reflection in the cold morning light, I realized that I was not I, and you were not you. I clenched my jaw, and rose for the day.

Creative Solitude

T. F. Simon, "Vilma Reading a Book", 1912

"I seek to see my own moments of loneliness as an opportunity to enter more deeply into communion with Christ, and to allow Christ to transform loneliness into holy, fruitful, creative solitude."

--Maria (emphasis mine)

Contingencies

Did you notice, friends, that I posted a quote yesterday that Julian had posted on Monday? Clearly, it is a powerful quote and a good motto. Also, clearly, I have been distracted of late.

In fact, on Tuesday afternoon, I came home late from work. I was so hungry that rather than taking a moment to begin making a real dinner, which I had been looking forward to all evening, I grabbed a leftover piece of cake from the fridge, and sat on the couch devouring it. Meanwhile, this was running through my head:

What should I do first? I know, I'll cut the onions, and put them on to simmer. Then I'll go check my email, and see if the neighbors have responded, so that I can run over and get the muffin tin. If they haven't responded, then I can make dinner, but if they have I can go over there, and have a little chat, and pick up the tin, and come back and finish my dinner. But I shouldn't leave the stove on, because we had the fire the on Friday. (Goodness, I need to clean the stove top too!) So I should really just check my email first, except that I know that if I do there will be 15 other things I find I need to do online. And, speaking of which, I really need to buy my plane ticket and pay my credit card bill, so I better do that first before I forget. Then I can sort my laundry, re-arrange the DVDs, hang the bulletin board, make coffee for breakfast tomorrow--oh wait--I don't have coffee. Maybe I should go to the store. Then I can pick up L's birthday present...if they have it at Barnes and Noble, which I doubt. And I need to mail those packages. And thank yous. And write those other thank you notes... Well, I'll just put some pasta on to boil and forget about the onions. But I had pasta every night last week...Man, I have to go to the bathroom. I wonder if the neighbors got my message...then I can bake...

I finally had to stop and laugh at myself. Here I sat, eating cake, and there was a litany of things going through my head, possible scenarios, to do lists that I never get done, all these things weighing on my mind, and they were all, ultimately meaningless. I thought about my best friend, who I haven't gotten to talk to for nearly a month, because of the demands of work, her family, her daughter, and our crazy schedules. She must have a million more important things to do--if only because the things she needs to do serve others. All my demands were my own making, and had little to do with anyone else. But they were SO URGENT in my mind that I sat there unable to act, worrying about what I was going to do...when I finally finished my piece of cake.

Don't worry. I am fully aware of my ridiculousness. But, the fact is, as single women it is very easy to get wrapped up in yourself. And, if you are naturally gregarious, it is easy to wrapped up in the demands of others, too. But what you really need is balance. Your working hours, no matter how onerous the demands they place on you, must be for work. Your evenings need to balance your other interests with true and refreshing leisure. Plus, because you have the freedom to do as you like, you also have to combat selfishness, and try to live for others: your friends, you family, your community.

It's exhausting. And I don't have that balance. I don't suppose I ever will.

A professor of mine once told me that she found balance being single by consciously putting all her attention into the task at hand. If she was walking to class, then she was walking to class. She would drown out the constant stream of thoughts that said "What are you going to do when you get there, and what about Mr. X, what if he skipped class again. I hope Miss Y has her presentation ready. I really don't want to fail her..." and concentrate on walking, one foot in front of the other. Being fully present in that moment did more to focus her attention as she stepped into the classroom than the thousands of thoughts that wanted to push their way into her mind--which ultimately serve as a distraction.

Put this into practice. I tried it, when she first told me, and it really did help. I found myself prepared for whatever came up: if you are fully present at every step along the way, you will be more prepared. If you put your complete attention in, say, making dinner, then you will be able to devote the time after dinner to all the other tasks before you. But if you try to sort your laundry, and visit with the neighbors, and cook your onions, you're going end up with charred onions.

Links

I have a huge pile of links I've wanted to share with our readers, but I keep forgetting to post them. So here are seven* of them, just for you. Read, discuss, ignore, what-have-you:

1) A mother gives a frank assessment of "who's to blame" when it comes to body image problems.

2) Interesting look at what young adult Catholics are looking for when it comes to community.

Few young adults make such a swift and seamless switch to a new, vital faith community--which means many feel pangs of panic and loss. It's hard to replicate the built-in, tight-knit community of on-campus Catholics, says Elizabeth Moriarty, 32, who has worked as a pastoral associate and now serves as assistant director of the Gender Relations Center at the University of Notre Dame. "That structure is in place, and when it's not there and they have to do a little more work to get it, people don't know what to do."

That aimlessness is sharpened by a sense of isolation, says Paul Jarzembowski, director of young adult ministry for the diocese of Joliet, Illinois. "Can I find my peers? I don't see them in the office. I don't see them on the train, and they're out there somewhere."

Via OSV.

3) Joe Carter at First Things shares a Big Think article on sexual promiscuity and happiness here.

4) Noelle Daly writes for The American Interest on the Pill and fertility:

But even as the Pill alleviated fear of the unwanted pregnancy that would confine a woman to the home, it also dramatically heightened anxiety about the ticking biological clock. Thus the Pill sparked one revolution that led in turn to another: Infertility born of long-postponed pregnancy found a solution in assisted reproduction technology. The first revolution sped the disconnection of sex and marriage, the second the disconnection of marriage and childrearing. The Pill gave us first the joy of sex without babies, and then, in effect, the freedom and convenience of creating babies without sex.

Read it all here.

5) The Knights of Columbus have a semi-regular series profiling Catholic fathers, called Fathers for Good. I love this. Let us commend the great men we know who live well and serve as a witness to the Christian life for themselves, their colleagues, and most importantly, their families.

6) Pope Benedict XVI discussed the "special contribution" women make to the work of Theology on the feast of the Birth of Mary. via EWTN.

7) Skirts v. Pants. Referee: Simcha Fisher.

* I read once that to-do lists should never have more than seven items. I don't know why exactly, except that seven is an easily graspable number, and gives one a sense of doing something without being insurmountable. So, seven it is.

How to Be Alone

From all the toil and anxiety of heart...

For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart with which he has labored under the sun?
--Ecclesiastes, 2:21

I felt, yesterday morning as I listened to the readings and gospel, that these were especially powerful selections for me this week. Little did I know that, 10 minutes after I came into the office, a certain project would blow up in my face, and I would be in big trouble.

The hardest part about working for a non-profit is that there are no little mistakes, there are only big ones. Everything costs us money, and money is the one thing we can't waste. On top of which there is too much work, and too little help, and no possible way to get everything done. Being late on a project--no matter the reason--is negligence. The only real analogy I have is that most of the time I am a juggler, and all I care about is keeping the balls in the air--I don't care if I do it with grace, or flourish, or manage any fancy tricks: I just don't want to drop anything. But when I do drop something--I find that the thing is the pearl without price, and it doesn't just fall to the soft grass, it falls off a cliff, and shatters into a million pieces.

That, my friends, is a tremendous amount of pressure, and a helluva a guilt trip. I've never learned how to cope with it. Sometimes I find St. Maximilian a help: "Let us prepare to suffer and work, we will rest after death." But let's face it, I'm not so good at the suffering thing, and to work I need rest. Edith Stein's words, quoted here before, only help when I know I have accomplished something--and have to step away leaving it unfinished.

But what do you do when the expectations of those around you are too high for you not to fail? And, worse, when the inevitable happens and you do fail, you fail colossally? When your job is at stake? When the livelihood of your institution is at stake?

My situation is not so dire as all that, but it is true that I made a big mistake first thing this morning. And that, though I have been doing this for a long time I still feel like I am treading water, because I haven't learned to swim. And that one more wave will sink me.

Back to Back Feasts: St. Bridget of Sweden

From my Magnificat today:

Again the same religious appeared on his rung as before and said: "O Judge, I ask you:"...

"Why did you not cause all your words to be heard in a single moment? Then it would not have been necessary for them to be preached through the intervals of time."...

"As to why I did not speak all my words in one hour, I answer you: Just as, materially, it goes against the body for it to take in one hour as much food as might content it for many years, so it is against the divine arrangment that my words, which are the food of the soul, would all have been spoken in one hour. But just as bodily food is taken in little by little, to be chewed and, when chewed, to be carried to the interior, so my words were not to be spoken in one hour, but rather through the intervals of time, in accord with the intelligence of those who were making progress, in order that the hungry might have something by which to be satisfied and that when satisfied, they might be excited to higher things."... -- St. Bridget

I find this comforting this morning, as several matters of the heart weigh on me, and questions about vocation, purposefulness, fulfillment, work, and the nature of God all swirl around my head. I was just discussing with my best friend last night how sitting in the mystery of our lives and in the mystery of God is so very much a part of the human experience, and one that is necessary, frustrating, enlightening, and delightful all at once. Having questions and knowing that all of the answers cannot be given to us in advance or at once and living in the paradox of knowing the Lord but not ever knowing Him fully is just so very much our reality. And there's not a damn thing to do about it. And according to St. Bridget's dialogue with the Lord, that's just as it should be, because it would not be fitting (or part of our good) for it to be any other way. I guess the unfolding of our lives and the often dim way of navigating through them is the way that the Lord can continue to stir up in us a greater desire for Him. Today I pray in thanskgiving for the thirst, and for the reminder from St. Bridget of Sweden for the appropriateness and gentleness of our caring heavenly Father.

Retreat Recap

This week I chaperoned my students on a Kairos retreat for three days. I had never been on one of these retreats (although I had been on something similar called Encounter in college). After years of organizing and leading retreats in college, it was nice to have a different role as someone who sits back and is there for counsel should it be asked for. And boy, was it asked for.

I was incredibly humbled that girls came forward to ask to talk to me about their personal and spiritual struggles over the course of the three days. What a great responsibility spiritual direction and counseling is...posing questions to them to make them look at themselves really directly and then look at God's hand in their lives. I couldn't help but thank God for priests, spiritual directors, and therapists who bring their education and wisdom to these very personal and intimate settings of self-revelation. They are really sacred encounters.

Many of my students brought up the following: alcoholic parents, parents who should be arrested for neglect, self-loathing, abusive relationships with boys...you name it. I saw real wounds, real piercings of the heart, mind, and flesh. However, it was incredible to watch them be healed by the love of Christ in community, in the sacraments, and in silence. Grace abounded, and the witness of so much healing strengthened my own faith. It was what I needed.

Kairos means "the Lord's time." My own belief in Providence was affirmed and renewed watching the girls be healed, in God's time, over these past few days. When we abandon ourselves to God's time, we get a taste of eternity and the peace that it brings.

Happy Feast of St. Joseph!

St. Joseph with the Christ Child by Michael D. O'brien

The readings last night from Vespers really struck me, as I struggle with the competing demands of work that I love but struggle with, hobbies that I cherish but take time and sometimes feel like work, the chance to lovingly support my friends and family, and, of course, rest. I wanted to share it with you:

Whatever your work is, put your heart into it as if it were for the Lord and not for men, knowing that the Lord will repay you by making you his heirs. It is Christ the Lord that you are serving.

--Colossians 3:23-24

In the Saint Joseph Novena we've been praying, we're asked to meditate on the Christ Child asleep in St. Joseph's arms. I recently had the chance to hold a friends baby, as she gently fell asleep. I sat there for hours, with her asleep in my arms, and was never tired or anxious to move. I feel like that was the last time I really rested. But, St. Joseph, with the help of this Novena, and Michael O'Brien's painting above, I feel I might be able to regain some of that peace, and finally rest.

How were your experiences with this Novena? Isn't St. Joseph just the best, ever?!

Here's to Hoping

Dear Friends, Sisters, Readers,
Thank you all for your comments, replies, and posts. While this truly is the most painful of times I've had in my short life, it helps me tremendously to know that I am surrounded by those who love me and are praying for me.

To my dear friend, Emily, thank you! I have always loved being around your luminous personality full of joy and hope! I will try that list making and do as you do each day. Gardenia, your comment, as well as the response of other women I know has made me realize that this experience is not so uncommon as one would think. It's just so difficult. Peter and I were literally 10 days away from our wedding day when all of this happened. It still makes no sense. What a grace that you have never experienced anger toward the person that hurt you. My feelings are all mixed up, between anger, love, heartache, etc. I'm glad to know from others' experiences, such as your own, that the prospects of a marriage are not out the window.

And Julian and Agatha, you two are awesome. I love you. Agatha, I've always wanted to be closer to St. Joseph than I am, and now is the opportunity. I used to be in the habit of praying for my future spouse all the time - then I met Peter, and I thought the prayer had been answered. I don't know why I stopped praying that prayer, but I'll be sure to offer up my novena for that and a myriad of other intentions - including for all of you. Julian, your words are an inspiration from the Holy Spirit. They are all that I needed to hear in a way I never thought. Thank you.

And to my dear friend who called me today after reading my post. Thank you. Your message made me laugh and smile. I needed that, and I need to talk to you too. And I will. The days go up and down, the emotions do too. Prayers are helping me, and I certainly don't want to wallow in my pity party.

I have been fortunate enough to have the friendship of a wonderful priest who was to marry Peter and I. Before I moved back home, I met with this priest and he recommended that I read a book by Fr. Joseph Langford on Mother Teresa called Mother Teresa's Secret Fire. It has been a tremendous comfort to me - and I would recommend it to all of you. It is perfect especially during Lent. Fr. Langford expounds upon the deep theological meaning of Christ's last words on the Cross: "I thirst" as God's profound thirst to love us and be loved by us. I'll close this post with a quote from the book. The quote comes from Mother Teresa's Varanasi Letter:

Why does Jesus say "I thirst?" What does it mean? Something so hard to explain in words--if you remember anything from Mother's letter remember this -- "I thirst" is something much deeper than Jesus saying "I love you." Until you know deep inside that Jesus thirsts for you -- you can't begin to know who He wants to be for you. Or who He wants you to be for Him." p. 56, Lanford

Sorrow

Hello Readers. As you may have noticed - my posts have been scarce. I guess I am lacking in inspiration - currently my days are filled with sorrow after my personal disaster. I go from missing the person I thought was my best friend and partner-to-be in life to anger at realizing that it just was not meant to be. I ask 'Why did God let this happen to me, to us?' 'What have the last two years of my life meant then, anyway?' 'Why was he not the one I prayed for, the one ordained for me? It seemed in so many ways that he was! We were that couple everyone wanted to be around (or it least it seemed like we were). Heck, the people at our marriage retreat asked us to join their ministry several times! Where did we go wrong?' 'Will I ever find the right person? Will I ever get married? Is God telling me NO to married life?' 'What am I supposed to do now, with only broken pieces of a life I thought I was supposed to have?'

Every day, I miss my old place - the life I had, the friends, the environment (not to mention the sunshine!) I pretty much want to stay in bed all day long. When I finally do get out of bed to leave the house - like to go to the gym (which I have been forcing myself to do - and that is good), I start crying (yes tears) every time I see an engaged or married woman. I'm trying very hard to focus on me, to put my life in order, to do something to get my mind off of this. But I don't know how. Currently, I've retreated to reading books about the Holocaust. I'm not sure if that's fueling the depression or quelling it. Probably a little bit of both. If I was not feeling so pitiful, this would be laughable. Any suggestions? Help!