So I should start this with an update…I’ve never really announced this on here…and I haven’t been posting on here of late as it is…last August I entered formation with a monastery. I have been a novice here since December 7th. Because of the sensitivities of being part of a community…I am going to be taking down this blog.
It is difficult to maintain a blog on personal or somewhat controversial issues when you are now a public representation of a particular group, in my case a religious order and a particular religious house. I do not wish to bring any sort of confusion or provide any occasions for scandal by something I may post here and lead anyone to think that these comments are indeed the views are necessarily shared by my monastic community. Not that I ever post on anything that is really scandalous, but I understand that many people do not get the distinction between private musings on religious/priests/etc and the official positions of a community. The danger is that sadly some people forget that priests, religious, monks, etc are all people too.
I will be taking this blog down in about a week or so. I am considering replacing it with a picture blog of things from around the community etc. I may or may not. I will have it up by the time I take this down and will place a link on the front page if I do. Thanks for all being with me over the years!
While stuck in a feverish stupor one fights many demons.
In my youth my brother and I would spent days on end at my grandparent’s house on the shores of the Mississippi sound. Early morning mass in the rectory of the Church on the bayou. Days of playing in the yard and fishing for crab ending with sunsets watched from the pier. After sunset my Nanny would often light the house with oil lamps. I enjoyed though days of bliss so much. I recently got my own lamp, with much reminiscence attached to it. Tonight I journal by lamplight.
Connecting withs work of music or art sometimes can be very frustrating. Sometimes I connect with something on a very deep and personal level. It’s not always for the better. Sometimes you find the connection is actually over a feeling or attitude you shouldn’t dwell in or brood over. But that work of art manages to capture than feeling so well, you allow yourself to commiserate with that feeling. Tonight I am allowing myself to commiserate. I will pull myself out and move on at dawn. At least, I will try to.
There is nothing worse than the groaning of a heart in the dark. It wants but will not have. Speaking without works, the mind cannot (or will not?) comprehend. It is an ache that seeks to consume all. I must learn to place my heart in His. The ache will not go away, but those hands can give it meaning. My cross becomes my salvation.
At such times his loneliness burst into flames–yes, it felt exactly like a fire in his breast, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter. Whenever he prayed, it lost its obsessive quality, but never entirely ceased.
Michael D. O’Brien, The Father’s Tale