SoC contribution pages 68-71

Forgetting/Distraction/Imperturbability/Indifference/Self-Mastery 

These things are all tempting, but did we ever think of them as sins before we met Fr. Giussani? I was raised to think of them as virtues! Most of these "virtues" were impossible for me to master – all but one: distraction. Distraction comes naturally to me. 

In fact, it's a fight to overcome distractions and to simply be present with all my questions open and alive in the present moment. So many things can distract: emotions (even positive ones), dreams and wishes (which are different from desires because they name some sought-after thing as an end – it can even be a "holy" thing like "time to pray" or "my daughter's conversion" but they stop short of "thy will be done"), worries, important work, engaging in arguments, etc. A certain way of praying can even be a way to distract myself from the questions that could and must batter my heart. 

Only two things seem to wake up my heart: extreme Beauty (especially the beauty of gratuitous love/forgiveness – but any extreme Beauty will work) and severe suffering. I have also learned that these two things, Beauty and suffering, are part of the same "fabric," like the warp and weft of a woven cloth that can't be unravelled. 

Having identified these two factors that crack me wide open to the fundamental questions means that I can seek and privilege these experiences in my life. I don't look for ways to suffer (they do seem to find me, though, lol), but I can seek out those who suffer. I can make a space in my life for people who are suffering the most. And I can be vigilant for explosions of Beauty – in art and in literature, also in human stories I find along the way, but most especially in my own experience of daily living. And these encounters and experiences can then become my "teachers" so that I can learn the Way to the place of these questions – which means I can go there, even without prompting. 

Yesterday I was distracted with thoughts about how all-consuming and tedious my routine of self-care has become. I was even composing a social media post in my head with the thought that it could go on fb. But as I thought about it, I became bored. I was boring myself. It was making my life *more* boring to think about this tedium I dislike. I had the thought: but all of this is beside the point! I'm alive. 

Another thought, which I've been meditating on for many months (even before the cancer returned) is that if I'm ever put into a concentration camp, or rounded up by some other hostile party, I will be among the first to die because I depend so heavily on certain medicines (for example, I have no thyroid, so without the daily dose of synthetic thyroid hormone, I won't survive). 

Now, without the cartons of liquid formula, which make up my entire diet; without the IV antibiotics I'm receiving through a pouch I carry constantly; and without all my other medications and the medically-necessary actions I need to undertake according to a strict schedule, I would die – and it would be a gradual and excruciating death.

I don't live in a hostile environment, and I haven't been imprisoned in a concentration camp. Instead, I enjoy all the benefits of the best medical care available in the world. Even if I am more vulnerable than I was as a young woman, I am alive. Remembering these things, I asked myself, Who am I that I should receive this gift of life? What am I to do with this life I've been given? ...and other questions that are equally compelling... which only God can answer. 

Only the habit of wondering with questions such as these, as they have been prompted by Beauty and suffering, could prepare me to be open to the same questions even in the midst of tedium and distraction.  

   

 

SoC Contribution: pages 65-68

Several songs came to mind as I read the pages for this week's SoC: Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb and Paul Simon's I Am a Rock are the two most striking. 

While last week's pages highlighted the phenomenon of intellectual rationalizations that seek to avoid the deep and fundamental needs of the heart, this week and next week we're working on practical ways that we distract ourselves from these questions: a certain kind of stoicism, the use of alcohol and drugs, keeping ourselves busy, etc. 

This week we focus on stoicism and psychoactive substances, each of which I have quite a bit of experience with. As I've said before, though: it's never productive when I use SoC to look at my own faults and failings, but it's especially unhelpful when I look at those of others. 

I have a friend who is going through a tremendous grief at the moment. Today I asked him, "Why would God allow this to happen?"
He answered, "I've been wondering the same thing." 
Me: "We need to keep asking him. Either there is an answer (one of Love), or he's a lie. I don't believe in 'blind faith,' and I never will."

I also gave an example of a time when I was suffering a great grief and asked this same question of God. I told him one thing I discovered at that time, but I did not try to provide it as an answer to his suffering. 

One consequence of having this conversation is that I've spent the whole day thinking about my current situation – this infection, which seems to be resistant to the oral antibiotics I was given, which is regaining strength, and which will likely land me in the hospital again. Why is God allowing it? What purpose can it serve? How will it help me to grow in Love? How is it a sign of Love for me? 

To be in the position of wondering in front of my situation helps me to stay alive and open. I have had enough experience with asking these kinds of questions to know to ask them with hope. I mean that I know that at least provisional answers will come (I may need to wait until the full flowering of the Kingdom before I discover the full meaning of all these things, but I know that God will show me enough glimmers and traces of meaning to help me take the next steps with curiosity, confidence, and certainty). I don't know that the same thing is true for my friend. He isn't a Christian, and he is quite a bit younger than I am. He's also had many devastating and unjust things happen to him, but until now, he hasn't had anyone to accompany him in asking these questions. How will this unfold for him? I don't know. I will try to be a real friend by continuing to ask the questions with him. He might appreciate this or he might pull away from the friendship. Everything depends on whether he recognizes something of value in these questions. I think this is a risk that always exists. 

 So I think two things are essential: at least one friend who will accompany us in our need as we ask the fundamental questions AND the ability to recognize something of value in keeping these questions open.