25 July 2006

On helping one another (from His Suffering and Ours )

It’s almost universally true that the eye we turn toward ourselves is blind or obscured in some way, or the information we allow to reach it is filtered through our needs, our fears, our misconceptions. We cannot see the forest for the trees, must be reminded to remove the beam from our own eye before removing the speck in our neighbor’s, have adaged the imperative, “Know thyself.” Because we don’t.

If this is characteristic of our nature, it must be part of Your plan – even if it is only part of our fallen nature, as our fallenness is part of Your plan too! We do not really know ourselves wholly. Beyond that, we cannot judge ourselves (“neither do I judge my own self…but I am not thereby justified…” 1 Cor 4:3-4), and we cannot trust our own counsel (“…lean not on your own prudence… Be not wise in your own conceit” Prov 3:5). Why?

Because it is not Your will that we are completely self-sufficient. We are here for each other – to give to one another and to receive from one another. This is Your way in this world: to use us as instruments of Your love and truth. You reach through us to others, and through others to us; what we don’t always realize is that when we reach toward others, it is You we are seeking, and others are seeking You when they reach toward us. We are Your heart and Your hands in the world.

Of course, the clearer our connection with You is, the better conduits we are – we are channels of grace in proportion to how well we are in touch with the Source. But You use every good heart, even those with weak connections, because You are “ingenious to save.” You can use everything, everyone.

We are born needy and remain needy in many ways. We are physically born into a family of others, reborn into Your family (the Church) at Baptism, and destined for eternal communion. We are never solitary – even if we choose physical solitude, we remain part of a community of interdependence. There is no time or place at any point of our existence that we are ever really alone, and those who try to reject all communio are the most miserable souls alive. We are social beings, on every level.

We need each other physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. We cannot live, learn, laugh or love (those being the four corresponding actions to those four needs) if we are alone. We cannot fulfill our “eschatological vocation” on our own. We cannot be whole without other people. Still, why? Why are we always in need of guidance and support from outside of ourselves? Because mutual self-donation and mutual receptivity are the highest expression of our ontology. It IS what we ARE.

We are made to become gift. And this gift of self must be personal, even intimate. At a distance, we can rouse people, we can even impress them, but we cannot really impact them. We are changed by love, but we cannot love a crowd. Love is individual, personally affirming; it implies trust and vulnerability. We do not trust a crowd. A “group hug” is less effective than a handshake.

It’s a one-to-one interaction, a mutual trust, a generosity and selflessness, a willingness to reach out to a single soul, to put ourselves at risk or sacrifice our own wants for another that characterizes the communio personarum for which we’re made. And each interaction is unique and personal and (because it is touched by grace) sublime. We need each other to become our true selves.

Our difficulty with knowing ourselves (I say even our difficulty with becoming ourselves) and our inability to solve all our own problems insures that we keep reaching out to one another, inviting others to step beyond themselves for our sakes. You could have made us wiser, more self-sufficient, less interdependent. But our need for others maintains the law of mutual self-giving in spite of ourselves. We might otherwise convince ourselves that we are gods, that we need no one; worse, we might believe that no one needs us. But they do. We must take care of one another.

Our responsibility to one another in this aspect is great, so great that “he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law” (Rom 13:8)! How many times are we instructed to “love one another”?! It is our distinguishing characteristic – Your love in us and through us. Your insistence on this is so unwavering that we cannot live fully, cannot be whole, cannot know that we have such sublime potential unless we are loved. Unless our own goodness is revealed to us by another’s unconditional love, we cannot know ourselves at all.

There must be a relationship of trust (with even just one other person) in which we learn that we are lovable. We have to see it in their eyes, know that it is personal, know that it is a response to what we ARE, not what we do or provide, to learn that we are significant and good.

Then we are free to love in return. Then we are free to give ourselves fully for Your sake. You accept less than all of us, if it is all we are capable of giving, but a true civilization of love would free every soul to give itself utterly to another and to You because each person would know fully what they were giving! I can spend myself for others because I should, but I do so in a half-hearted way because I do not know myself, do not really know what I am capable of giving, and am not filled with love to give away because I am only half-capable of receiving love. But when I am loved by another, I learn Your love, learn how to be fully receptive to Your love, and am better equipped to give love in the form of self-donation.

Whole, we can give ourselves wholly.

So, others’ issues often seem clearer to us than our own, and we are perennially looking to others for support and affirmation. We are not self-sufficient because You want us to lean on one another, to learn Your own love for us. It is the way You have chosen to teach us that we are loved by Absolute Meaning, and that we possess intrinsic value as unique persons given the power to choose love of others over self.

Give us the grace to love as we should, to put others first and be freed to be loved in return.

“Since you have purified yourselves by obedience to the truth for sincere mutual love, love one another intensely from a pure heart.” -1 Peter
Lest we lose perspective in this Cospirazione, and forget what we are and why we're here, I found this again and thought I'd share. Maybe you've seen it before:

The Whole World As 100 People

If we could shrink the earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all the existing human ratios remaning the same, it would look like this:
There world be:
57 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Western Hemisphere (north and south)
8 Africans

52 would be female
48 would be male

70 would be non-white
30 white
70 would be non-Christian
30 would be Christian
89 would be heterosexual
11 homosexual

59% of the entire world's wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people
and all 6 would be citizens of the United States
80 would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from malnutrition
1 would be near death,
1 would be near birth
Only one would have a college education
1 would own a computer

When one considers our world from such a compressed perspective,
the need for both acceptance and understanding becomes glaringly apparent.

21 July 2006

In case you missed it (as I almost did), tess said:

I do wish this were a forum where we could see instantly new posts rather than look through the comments in case we miss things, but that's just a wish.
A Marist priest, Fr. Dubay, clothed you! Fascinating.
I'm writing because you mentioned the brush with death. Now that's interesting since this has happened to me as well. Might I ask what happened to you?

I wish I could keep up with the comments more closely as well. But I’m not ready to move to anything more involved than this just yet. I am a bit techno-challenged.

Meanwhile, to your comments, Tess. Yes, Fr. Dubay happened to be giving a week-long retreat at the Carmelite Monastery that is home to our Secular Order chapter, and he was the priest who presided over our meeting and gave me my scapular. That was a wonderful surprise.

To answer your question, as is true of every "near-death" experience, the whole story is long and punctuated with beautiful moments of grace - from the doctor in charge to the emergency staff called in to help and everyone in between. It is a story I would like to tell in detail some day. For now, I will let the poem speak for itself, except to let you know that what happened was not uncommon: after the delivery of my last child, I hemmorhaged and needed emergency surgery, and that this was actually the second time I had almost died.

To Sing You Must Exhale
Cantus planus, bis

Life drains ferociously –
a cyclonic crimson torrent
and a rolling thunderhead of daguerreotype
I trace through the ceiling tiles.
I’ve seen this on sepia film –
a woman, damp with the fatigue of birthing,
every fiber relieved of a robust newling,
fading adagio in an oversized bed.
But here, the wan smile unacknowledged
as sterile strangers swarm
this well-worn instrument,
puncture what is left of a fading shell,
assure loudly in the direction of these
cooling wax pools
and then in
silent prejudicial prognoses
deliver the death sentence in glances and nods.
I know what I do not know,
refulgent galaxies churning to life in my skull,
I count my breaths and
mark the measure.
Danse macabre –
my steady, sturdy heart,
so recently quickening another waxing soul,
has lost its step and,
gulping for oxygen like a frantic trapped fish
deranged by the sunlight, it wildly clamors
to be free of this cage.
Erratic pirouette of ambivalence
to the deep whisper of luminous music
rising within me –
a music like the brilliant evaporation of dust
burning from
a falling
star.
I focus on the rhythm but
cannot will my hummingbird heart to
register a metered throb.
I waver – the dilettante’s toddle on that
high and
narrow beam
between
fervidly grasping
gristle and gravel,
currency and crumbs,
stone and the syllables I know, or
surrendering outrageously,
scandalously,
to the ineluctable promise of what
ear has not heard,
never before having been given the choice.
An impossibly delicate web holds me here
but I do not trust its strength
or theirs
or yours…
still, trust is all I am now –
trust and a lightning rod.
I breath in - Oh Jesus
I exhale – I am Yours.

Silence.

I awake, bewildered, to a new cadence,
my heart’s rhythm found,
all of me an unbearable weight,
plastic propping my jugular, portal for
a stranger’s life-gift,
a hasty row of threads holding me together
where my children once ripened,
your familiar hand,
warm with the mundane flush of
uninterrupted pulse,
draws me from where I dreamed I’d be.
Medical miracle of the month.
I ache to reassure you,
but how can I make you understand
peace at the brink?
I cannot make you know
the awkward unripe rhythm of our song or
the subtle oppressions of gravity
until you’ve felt eternity begin to fill
the lungs of your soul
and glimpsed the source of quarks and nervus rerum
which frees us of sinews and air and
transforms us
into ceaseless and ever-changing harmonies of
effulgence.
I know what I do not know and
I’ve leaned face-first into
the most fragile membrane and
balanced, breathless, on that stropped razor edge
which separates us from all we are meant to be.
And still my nostrils recall that new bright air
and still this heart of clay dances to an
unperceived chord, the whole
redeemable burden of me
longing to pierce infinity at last.

All the things we’re doing and
running from and cataloging and
all we hold in our fists
the equivalent of

dominoes in the dark or
a symphony without strings

once you confess that your
neat rows
cast no shadows.
And you cannot read the score
and you cannot really sing
until finally you

exhale

and know the incomprehensible
freedom of Truth.

Cantare amantis est.
~St Augustine


This one is the title poem from the poetry book .
I'll be posting comments on the previous post soon, but please, let's not miss this opportunity (all emphasis is mine):

DAY OF PRAYER AND PENANCE FOR PEACE IN MIDDLE EAST

VATICAN CITY, JUL 20, 2006 (VIS) - Faced with worsening situation in the Middle East, the Holy See Press Office has been directed to communicate the following:

"The Holy Father is following with great concern the destinies of all the peoples involved and has proclaimed this Sunday, July 23, as a special day of prayer and penance, inviting the pastors and faithful of all the particular Churches, and all believers of the world, to implore from God the precious gift of peace.

"In particular, the Supreme Pontiff hopes that prayers will be raised to the Lord for an immediate cease-fire between the sides, for humanitarian corridors to be opened in order to bring help to the suffering peoples, and for reasonable and responsible negotiations to begin to put an end to objective situations of injustice that exist in that region; as already indicated by Pope Benedict XVI at the Angelus last Sunday, July 16.

"In reality, the Lebanese have the right to see the integrity and sovereignty of their country respected, the Israelis the right to live in peace in their State, and the Palestinians have the right to have their own free and sovereign homeland.

"At this sorrowful moment, His Holiness also makes an appeal to charitable organizations to help all the people struck by this pitiless conflict."

18 July 2006

Gabrielle is doing a wonderful job of presenting St. Teresa's "mansions" in overview. If you are interested, visit her blog .

Meanwhile, for contrast, I thought I'd post my first poem about St. Thomas. This one is in the book .

Didymus
vide et crede

I've regretted it ever since.
I asked and received
and Have regretted it ever since.
A hair's breadth from obduracy,
suffering an intellignece that refused to step aside,
demanding evidence.
Within me a heart not yet warmed,
beating only because it is its nature to beat.
A realist, relying on reason,
refusing to believe;
blaming this on their grief,
their fear.
So much tension makes men sna;.
Freely chosen enclosure in which I vaingloried.

He returned to save me.
He called me, struggling to believe,
and gently demanded I prove myself wrong.
"Let me have your finger. See. Believe."
Hand of clay I know so well
reached deeply into glorified flesh.
I was overcome.
And I surrendered.
"My Lord and my God."
But he did not call me blessed.
No.
"Blessed are they who have not seen."
Trusting souls who see with the heart.
Childlike souls
who know truth with no hands.
Blessed are they.

Be careful what you ask for.

I'm not sure I agree with myself now. As time passes, I think I was too hard on Thomas, and I see him differently, as evidenced by the poem I posted yesterday. He DID demand evidence. He DID protest. But I don't think it was vainglory...

17 July 2006

I'm back from camp, and I've been thinking....

Didymus reaches obediently,
though it is not necessary to his belief any longer –
still, he reluctantly raises his fingers of dusty clay
toward that definitive puncture between the ribs
and releases a glint of light –
not of hidden, smoldering flame,
but the radiance of a summer sky.

13 July 2006


La familia.
Why a “conspiracy”?

Because we need a revolution, and revolutions must be planned quietly.

Because we must throw truth in the eye of the lie, but first we must be sure we know what we are throwing, and we know that best when we say these things out loud to one another and share our thoughts and experience (“Where two or three are gathered in My Name…,” even electronically). So we “breathe together” in order to learn, to clarify, to inspire.

(I am a real logophile, and all kinds of poetic thoughts start churning as I consider the etymologies of words, and all their derivations. Right now, I am weaving inspire, aspire, expire, conspire, transpire... perspire?!)

Because “exhaling” connotes “letting go” and surrendering, and we must surrender our own ideas in order to be filled with the Holy Spirit – we must be willing to surrender our entire selves in order to be used by Him. The name of this blog comes partly from the title poem from one of my books. In the poem, I describe my “brush with death,” in which I experienced my own surrender to God’s will in my exhaling – my “letting go” – and found profound peace.

In every moment, the culture is screaming, "TAKE MORE!" and outshouting the silence we need to remember what we are and why we are here. These are the questions that I often pose to people who are seeking something more - What are we? Why are we here? How can we best BE what we ARE?
And if we are only here and now, what is the point? We are only burdensome and loathesome to ourselves. Of course, we are made for more than this, but if we consider our nothingness without Him, all our frantic search for meaning and worth or for an escape for our meaninglessness is seen in stark contrast with our true dignity as creatures loved by Absolute Meaning. But how many know that they are loved? Loved in truth, BY Truth, with the only Love that matters...

This is what I mean by plotting against the nihilism of the day. We will have to chip away at this a little at a time, as we have real lives that take up our time (alas, my time is not my own). But this is a bare beginning.

I am off on a weekend trip as of tomorrow morning, and won't be back until Tuesday :-(
But I am confident that you all will keep the conversation going and the conspiracy alive!
I may have a minute tonight to check back, God willing. Meanwhile, ti amo!

11 July 2006

Gabrielle has me laughing out loud here .

Yes, we are full of cheesecake and antics at the moment. But still. We're just establishing a baseline of goodwill. We're not running away from Fr. Dubay (who, by the way, clothed me in my Carmelite scapular) and we will definitely ask St. John of the Cross to be our guide up Mount Carmel, even as we ask St. Teresa to lead us through the mansions of prayer.

More soon. But this is more fun than I usually allow myself.

10 July 2006

Prayer for the "Cospirazione delle Contemplative" (why DOES everything sound better in Italian?):

Father,
creator and ruler of heaven and earth,
you made man in your likeness
to subdue the earth and master it,
and to recognize the work of your hands
in created beauty.
Grant that your children,
thus surrounded on all sides by signs of your presence,
may live continually in Christ,
praising you through him and with him.
Amen.

~ from Christian Prayer, Sunday, Week II, Evening Prayer

For me, this sums up what we are about: acknowledging God as Father and Creator; acknowledging the beauty in which we are immersed, as a gift of His love; living a life of thanksgiving and offering this eucharistic attitude through and with Christ, as a continual praise of His glory.

More "unpacking" of this when I have more time.
http://www.stl-ocds.org/

I love my iPod - it's my favorite way to multi-task - and Gabrielle posted this link over at contemplativehaven .

Someone invite her over here; she would bring something soothing to this conspiracy ;-)

08 July 2006



Theme song for the
'Cospirazione delle Contemplative':

(we're still about good coffee here)


Inextricably Bound
panem et circenses

So many stanzas whisper like reticent prayers to ourselves;
only the existential lies penetrating our citadels,
the purest lines cloying from age and misuse.
The past is old wineskin and all verity a noose.

Evolution has matured us far beyond comply,
and we’ve subtly outgrown the daily cadence of the sky.
We ignore that we’re merely elements bound by Providence alone
and reduce the blaze of truth to thin blue light or a pile of stone.

We are offended by mercy and too wise to be inspired
by those who live fully immersed in unseen fire;
and if the veil that conceals us should be pierced by their word
we’ll certainly insist a thicker curtain is preferred.

For the mysterious brilliance that certain lives reflect
the murky entrails of our own construct may neatly vivisect.
Seeing what they are, we see what we should be;
slavery is more poignant juxtaposed against the free.

Our match-lit labyrinths of self-indulgence and unreason
masquerade as righteousness both in and out of season.
Sacrifice rings hollow to hearts petrified and lame;
and we’ve been passed a cumbrous ancient torch without its flame.

We are aware that below us churn unstable molten seas
and know we cannot breathe but for the green breath of trees.
Not one of us can escape the gentle force of the full moon
or find shadows to hide us in the intensity of noon.

Still we try to bundle truth up in a grassroots opaque shroud
and then in the fervent madness of the single-minded crowd
shove it all diplomatically to the cliff beyond the privet,
mindless of what we’ll encounter as we freefall with it.

~ from "To Sing You Must Exhale," available through Lulu

07 July 2006




The conspiracy is here. It starts now.

I'm in.
honora is in, and bringing cheesecake. (No cheesecake, no in.)

We need someone to bring coffee, and I'm talking real coffee - no cafe americana. No bilge water. Black gold.

I have a few others to invite.
Do you?

It may be like the blind leading the blind, but the darkness in which we so often fumble is His. And His darkness is, of course, preferable to our own light.

06 July 2006

There is no such thing for us as a definitive “YES.”
We must decide again each moment to reach for best,
choosing who we are and what we will become
by remembering where we’re going, and from whence we come.
We must keep consciously choosing to be third,
neighbor being second, and always first, the Word.

01 July 2006

From the soul’s darkest deep,
essential Fire begins to creep,
rising with bright Wing, bright Breath –
white heat of necessary death –
till finally there is no dark,
if only we attend the spark.