What is it in my soul that is content, and yet discontent. I want, desire, hope, have passion for something…something that is not present, not materialized, or not fully formed. It is missing, but I know that it should be there by rights. I wonder, how does one go about filling the void, and trying to see where to go from here, were to guide my passions. Void…vault of empty wonderings.
It is sort of like the fairy tale princess. She is enslaved in servant-hood, in poverty, or by some evil person or circumstance. She knows that she ought to be free, and she hopes, prays, longs for her rescuer to come, and he does. Her faith in this rescuer, whom she has never met, does not falter. Faith is a funny thing, in that it will never let go, never give up Hope, for they go together.
Am I pining for my prince charming, enslaved by loans and stressful classes and other such ugly things? Or, is it an evidence of a woman’s spirituality, enslaved in sin, romanticism, and depression, longing for her savior? Difference here: she doubts if he will ever come, and he does not come while she is doubting. However, though she doubts and feels as though her whole world is falling in on itself, she never lets go completely of her hope that he will come one day. She may not know who he is, but she never gives up hope that he will come.
Another parallel is the fact that she will not take action herself. The princess knows that she cannot get herself out of the mess, and has to rely entirely on her prince to come and act. She is not passive, but her active passion, her judgment of the circumstance, is to wait. Waiting is not actually passive in this sense, but rather an intense action, not swift, sharp, or moving, but is a decision, and a deep one.
So, she waits, and I wait. I know not for what or for whom…or maybe I do. I know it is my Lord…yet there is a hope that he will send someone, who is more than an emissary, more than a romantic notion. Romanticism and dreams…thank you Lord for these, for would life not be so terribly bland without them!
Friday, December 08, 2006
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Disconected ideas of humility
Note: I first posted this a while back, and am now reposting it here, because for some reason I like it.
I am reading "Transformation in Christ" by Deitrich Von Hildebrand for my Philosophy of Ethics class, and it is making a profound impact in my life. I wish I could keep things in my brain long enough to discuss them, but, unhappily, my brain is mush and refuses to function correctly. I think I've abused it for too long. Perhaps 5-6 hours of sleep is not enough, and worrying about family, work, money, etc. are too much. Somehow, I can't help thinking that I'll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. ;-)
In any case, the current chapter addresses an issue that I've been concerned about for a while: Humility. It seems that it is especially fitting for a woman to strive for humility, especially for the young women of our times as they are being constantly told to masculinize themselves, to want to fight, to have a career and climb that divine corporate ladder. We have to be "independent" of patriarchal infrastructure. If this is what I am to strive for (a life independent of a man where my children are raised in daycare and prep-school while I chase the everlasting dollar and speak out for my right to do whatever I please, wearing uncomfortable shoes and designer suits all day), I have a tired, cold, deplorable existence to look forward to. It seems that there is nothing to be said for the woman who just wants to be present to her family and to God. To the woman who actually has this old-fashioned desire to cook, clean, make clothes, tend gardens/crops, nurse her babies and actually carry them around with her... What the dickens is she thinking! Letting herself sink willfully into oblivion! No one will remember her, and she is not doing an iota for the economy. Humility is horrendous.
I disagree. Furthermore, I despise retail and office work, both of which I am presently employed in. (ugh!)
That unconnected bit of oddity up there was a reflection of my poor, muddled brain on an issue that is, in my opinion, connected to humility. After all, was not Our Blesses Lady the most humble of persons, and was she not a woman who was present to her husband and children, who did such menial tasks as making clothes, tending a garden, scraping together enough funds to care for the physical needs of her family? She has not sunk into oblivion…yet, and we must keep it that way. I know there are certain schools of thought out there that claim that the lovely prayer, the Magnificat, is a speech about Mary's disgust with the wealthy (He has cast down the might from their thrones and lifted up the lowly) and she is a Marxist, but this piece of disturbance is just stupid, not to mention insulting, uninformed, unscholarly, etc.
Von Hildebrand and St. Francis de Sales say that the highest of human virtues is humility, just as love, a divine virtue, is the highest virtue of all. Humility is the source and foundation of all human virtues and is the presupposition of the beauty of all virtue. If the greatest of the three cardinal virtues is Love, and humility is the greatest of the human virtues, there must be a good deal of congruence between them. It seems that they must always coincide: where one is present, the other is also. Good gracious! I hope in that case that I am at least a little bit humble!
Pride and concupiscence are the two great enemies that live within us and harm our ability to be humble, but pride is the worse of the two (is that grammatically correct?). Concupiscence is more a matter of nature, is born in us, and we have nothing to do with it’s existence in us, except insofar as we overcome or encourage it. Pride, however, though it may come naturally as well, is largely brought into being by our own efforts, and it is very difficult to overcome. I have found, in my experience and my reading, that many a holy and genuinely good was tainted by one thing only: pride. The truly beautiful women I have met, the ones that I really want to be like, who seem to be very happy in their state in life, are the ones who are very humble. They are totally self-disinterested, and are always...I don't know! They seem to have an aura about them, when one feels like saying "Now here is a queen." Images of Our Lady, the true mother of all, and the Model of Women, Exemplar of Humility, and the Lady of Love.
I am reading "Transformation in Christ" by Deitrich Von Hildebrand for my Philosophy of Ethics class, and it is making a profound impact in my life. I wish I could keep things in my brain long enough to discuss them, but, unhappily, my brain is mush and refuses to function correctly. I think I've abused it for too long. Perhaps 5-6 hours of sleep is not enough, and worrying about family, work, money, etc. are too much. Somehow, I can't help thinking that I'll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. ;-)
In any case, the current chapter addresses an issue that I've been concerned about for a while: Humility. It seems that it is especially fitting for a woman to strive for humility, especially for the young women of our times as they are being constantly told to masculinize themselves, to want to fight, to have a career and climb that divine corporate ladder. We have to be "independent" of patriarchal infrastructure. If this is what I am to strive for (a life independent of a man where my children are raised in daycare and prep-school while I chase the everlasting dollar and speak out for my right to do whatever I please, wearing uncomfortable shoes and designer suits all day), I have a tired, cold, deplorable existence to look forward to. It seems that there is nothing to be said for the woman who just wants to be present to her family and to God. To the woman who actually has this old-fashioned desire to cook, clean, make clothes, tend gardens/crops, nurse her babies and actually carry them around with her... What the dickens is she thinking! Letting herself sink willfully into oblivion! No one will remember her, and she is not doing an iota for the economy. Humility is horrendous.
I disagree. Furthermore, I despise retail and office work, both of which I am presently employed in. (ugh!)
That unconnected bit of oddity up there was a reflection of my poor, muddled brain on an issue that is, in my opinion, connected to humility. After all, was not Our Blesses Lady the most humble of persons, and was she not a woman who was present to her husband and children, who did such menial tasks as making clothes, tending a garden, scraping together enough funds to care for the physical needs of her family? She has not sunk into oblivion…yet, and we must keep it that way. I know there are certain schools of thought out there that claim that the lovely prayer, the Magnificat, is a speech about Mary's disgust with the wealthy (He has cast down the might from their thrones and lifted up the lowly) and she is a Marxist, but this piece of disturbance is just stupid, not to mention insulting, uninformed, unscholarly, etc.
Von Hildebrand and St. Francis de Sales say that the highest of human virtues is humility, just as love, a divine virtue, is the highest virtue of all. Humility is the source and foundation of all human virtues and is the presupposition of the beauty of all virtue. If the greatest of the three cardinal virtues is Love, and humility is the greatest of the human virtues, there must be a good deal of congruence between them. It seems that they must always coincide: where one is present, the other is also. Good gracious! I hope in that case that I am at least a little bit humble!
Pride and concupiscence are the two great enemies that live within us and harm our ability to be humble, but pride is the worse of the two (is that grammatically correct?). Concupiscence is more a matter of nature, is born in us, and we have nothing to do with it’s existence in us, except insofar as we overcome or encourage it. Pride, however, though it may come naturally as well, is largely brought into being by our own efforts, and it is very difficult to overcome. I have found, in my experience and my reading, that many a holy and genuinely good was tainted by one thing only: pride. The truly beautiful women I have met, the ones that I really want to be like, who seem to be very happy in their state in life, are the ones who are very humble. They are totally self-disinterested, and are always...I don't know! They seem to have an aura about them, when one feels like saying "Now here is a queen." Images of Our Lady, the true mother of all, and the Model of Women, Exemplar of Humility, and the Lady of Love.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Thanksgiving
Since going to Franciscan, I have never been able to make it home during a semester, and definitely not at Thanksgiving time. This year, I found a ride to Northern Virginia, but that would have been a four hour ride to get me, and a four hour ride back by some poor memeber of my family, and since Dad had surgery recently and cannot drive, the whole thing would have been extremely difficult to manage. My first year, I went to Allison's farm in Ohio, and my second year, I went to Faith's house in Connecticut. This time around, having a shortage of freinds I could go home with, I decided to stay in the dorm and be the hall supervisor. Funny living in a dorm that normaly holds 170 other women when it has only 8 in it. Actually, I didn't really see any of the other people, so they may not have been there at all! I never would have known. Some of you may know about my overactive imagination...yes. All I could think was "someone could break in here, kill me, and no one would know until Sunday." My mind does strange things late at night, and that was one of them.
Thanksgiving dinner was spent at the Dougherty's farm in Toronto. They've got about 17 acres of land, but utilize a bit more than that. Their driveway is sort of like a rollercoaster, in that you drive literally off a cliff, which turns into their driveway. I've been down it many times before, but never driving. My heart lept into my throat as dear Audrey screeched from the backseat. In any case, we arived none the worse for wear. Their kitchen is one of my favorite things about the solid old farm house, for Mrs. Dougherty has pots and pans hanging from the walls and ceilings, plenty of counter space, and cabinets with green paint that have be authentically antiqueated. The wood floors go throughout the entire house, including the kitchen. An extra table had been brought in to the dining area (which opens into a living room) for extra space. The youngest children had made place cards for everyone. Mine (done by the darling Masha) was of a cat riding on a dog's back with a very large bunny next to them. I though some sort of battle was going on, but Masha quickly set that idea straight. Dinner reminded me of home, with one end of the table constantly calling for things at the other end. Mrs. Dougherty's answer to this problem is to have two dishes of certain things. Amid the candle light, sparkling grape juice, and water spills, dinner was very entertaining and great fun.
After dinner, some of us sang songs as Michael (another freind from school) played the piano. All us children went down to the pasture, and watched two of the boys try to ride the steer, who bucked like mad. The youngest boy rode around on the miniature horse, all dressed up in his chaps, pistol, leather vest, cowboy hat, jeans, flannel shirt, and boots. The girls (Audrey, Masha, Anna, and I) went walking by ourselves and had a grand old girly time. Going back up to the house, the little girls decided to give Audrey and I a tour, and we ended up in the boys' room on one of the beds reading stories. Great fun!
I think I know all the poker hands now after playing Tivoli, or Tripoli, or whatever it was. Funny how much more entertaining a game can be with a small child on one's lap...or someone else's. You get to laugh while they struggle to keep their cards from being seen. After some wonderful pumkin pie, topped with whipped cream from their own cow, the evening decended into tea and coffee, conversation, and games of chess. Gathered around the circle in the living room haveing such pleasant conversation, I began to see that televisions are entirely unnecesary in the family room. Most people have their living room set up with the couch facing the TV, but the Dougherty's couch is facing more chairs, so they are all arranged in a circle around a coffee table. Conversation does not lack for interest. We turned a conversation about fairy tales into a discussion of spirituality, Christ as the "Knight in Shining Armor," the qualities of good fiction, Crime and Punishment, and the purpose of literature in general.
As usual, in good family form, I entirely forgot a camera. However, more thoughts on the content of that discussion will ensue...eventually.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Thanksgiving dinner was spent at the Dougherty's farm in Toronto. They've got about 17 acres of land, but utilize a bit more than that. Their driveway is sort of like a rollercoaster, in that you drive literally off a cliff, which turns into their driveway. I've been down it many times before, but never driving. My heart lept into my throat as dear Audrey screeched from the backseat. In any case, we arived none the worse for wear. Their kitchen is one of my favorite things about the solid old farm house, for Mrs. Dougherty has pots and pans hanging from the walls and ceilings, plenty of counter space, and cabinets with green paint that have be authentically antiqueated. The wood floors go throughout the entire house, including the kitchen. An extra table had been brought in to the dining area (which opens into a living room) for extra space. The youngest children had made place cards for everyone. Mine (done by the darling Masha) was of a cat riding on a dog's back with a very large bunny next to them. I though some sort of battle was going on, but Masha quickly set that idea straight. Dinner reminded me of home, with one end of the table constantly calling for things at the other end. Mrs. Dougherty's answer to this problem is to have two dishes of certain things. Amid the candle light, sparkling grape juice, and water spills, dinner was very entertaining and great fun.
After dinner, some of us sang songs as Michael (another freind from school) played the piano. All us children went down to the pasture, and watched two of the boys try to ride the steer, who bucked like mad. The youngest boy rode around on the miniature horse, all dressed up in his chaps, pistol, leather vest, cowboy hat, jeans, flannel shirt, and boots. The girls (Audrey, Masha, Anna, and I) went walking by ourselves and had a grand old girly time. Going back up to the house, the little girls decided to give Audrey and I a tour, and we ended up in the boys' room on one of the beds reading stories. Great fun!
I think I know all the poker hands now after playing Tivoli, or Tripoli, or whatever it was. Funny how much more entertaining a game can be with a small child on one's lap...or someone else's. You get to laugh while they struggle to keep their cards from being seen. After some wonderful pumkin pie, topped with whipped cream from their own cow, the evening decended into tea and coffee, conversation, and games of chess. Gathered around the circle in the living room haveing such pleasant conversation, I began to see that televisions are entirely unnecesary in the family room. Most people have their living room set up with the couch facing the TV, but the Dougherty's couch is facing more chairs, so they are all arranged in a circle around a coffee table. Conversation does not lack for interest. We turned a conversation about fairy tales into a discussion of spirituality, Christ as the "Knight in Shining Armor," the qualities of good fiction, Crime and Punishment, and the purpose of literature in general.
As usual, in good family form, I entirely forgot a camera. However, more thoughts on the content of that discussion will ensue...eventually.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Friday, November 24, 2006
fall in a few words
This photo is from Barabo, WI, which place I have nver actually visited. However, it reminds me very much of Pungo and Munden, the southernmost parts of my city.
This photo is something of a dream, or more correctly a hope. I looks just like the feilds back home, only 15 minutes from our house. Not only do I really love fall, but I also love trees, horses, and land.
Skyline Drive in the Appalacians of western Virginia (Shenandoah valley on South) is much more majestic and beautiful than this picture shows, but alas this is the only one I've got.
The beauty of fall has always intruiged me more than that of spring or summer. Fall and winter, though sorrowful and dreary at times, are those seasons which make my spirit soar, and usually provoke me into being very happy and singing. I think that they are perhaps times of renewal and hope, so like our life here in this temporal world. This picture is actually from my own beloved Steubenville Cemetery. Autumn and Winter always instill a sense of the closeness of God in me, and so do cemeteries. A later post will have to look into the reasons for this.Yes, this entire post is backward, because I meant to have this picture first and the caption thing, but you will forgive me, I'm sure. Otherwise, I suppose I shall have to forgive you.
Little bit of Intro
It is rather funny that I'm here in the first place because I'm very computer illiterate, and even more internet illiterate. This is partially due to disinterest, to laziness, and to obstinacy, as I have always been wary of technology. Email, for instance, I don't really care for becuase it is rather impersonal, and you cannot get into an email like you can get into a letter. In an email, the person's mind and thoughts might be on the screen, but with a letter, the person is on the paper. They have touched the paper, and you touch it now. Yes, I'm sentimental too. My purpose in making this blog is to actually publish some of the writings and musings I've been doing for the past several years, and to get myself out of my bubble. I tried one of these before, and it did not work, so we shall see if it works, and then I shall charge ahead.
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