HIRE A HERMIT (update)

"Hermitage" garden feature on 

an English Country Estate

I recently learned that, in the 18th century, wealthy European landowners would frequently build a model "hermitage" as a garden feature on their extensive land holdings.  They would then hire a man to play the part of a hermit, but they had to give him his pay at the end of the year, and it was often a goodly sum, because it was so hard to keep a good hermit on one's land!

According to Wikipedia, Saint Francis of Paola may have been the first such "ornamental hermit" when he chose to live in a secluded cave on his father's property in the 15th century.  His parents were extremely pious people, however, and Saint Francis of Paola (named after St. Francis of Assisi) had shown sincere religious inclinations prior to the time he spent as a hermit in that cave.  Perhaps his sojourn there sparked the imagination of some nobleman who was charmed at the idea of a hermit on one's land and who didn't happen to have a religious son, so he hired someone to act the part!

I wonder how the actor playing the hermit would feel about this "job" and if any of them were suddenly struck with a real desire to adopt the hermit life?  Whose idea was it to create this fantasy on their land for the amusement of visitors?

Aristocrats spent quite a lot of money to accomplish this charade, and I can't help feeling a bit wistful that, instead of supporting a real hermit or two, these people were spending a huge amount of money on a Disneyland sort of re-creation.  If THAT doesn't say something profound about human nature, and how we value an entertaining fantasy over a substantial reality, I don't know what would.

For more information about this phenomena, check out Charlotte Brentwood's Blog, from whence I obtained the awesome picture, above.

There are varying degrees and types of hermits, from the fake hermits of the 1700's in England, who looked and behaved genuinely the part but were, from all accounts, spiritually bankrupt, to the modern day hermit living in a city apartment who appears to be quite normal and ordinary to the casual eye, but whose daily life centers around a profound prayer life in the company of the Lord.

As they say, "looks can be deceiving," and one never knows what someone is about until you dig a bit and see.

Many of us modern women wish to follow in the footsteps of the hermits of old insofar as our lives are meant to center around God, we live a retired solitary life to the best degree possible, and we eschew most entertainments. This is another reason why the fake "hermit" of the 1700's is so ironic, because his life is completely about entertainment, though not for himself.  His sole function is to charm and entertain the guests of the lord of the manor and to act the part of a religious.

Carmelite nun in her hermitage cell

I am fascinated with other independent hermits and how they manage to maintain their tranquility in a life that is not supported by any structure or organization.  How do they remain other-worldly while staying very much in the world?  Any hermits out there who would like to respond, please do.  I would love to hear from you.

Carmelite nuns of the Byzantine Catholic Rite

While I would have loved to have become part of a contemplative order, I spent many years investigating various religious expressions and therefore developed in my own way - too independent to submit myself to the rule of others, I suppose, though there were aspects of monastic life that I loved at the Vedanta Society in Hollywood, California, when I was a nun in their convent.

Carthusian nun

The form that my monastic "schedule" takes is still under construction, so to speak.  I imagined a robust schedule of formal prayers, but I am unable to do them, since my disabilities continue to worsen over time. I pray to be cured of my illnesses to the extent necessary to enable me to sit through formal services, but, if truth be told, I much prefer the simplest of meditations - peace and quiet.

I was gifted with numerous creative talents, and I use these as instruments of prayer, to the best of my ability. Painting of religious subjects, writing, making crocheted works of art, and other artistic ventures give me a concentrated space of time in which to keep the hands busy while I pray. I used to give away a lot of these things, but I have become so poor that I now find I must try to sell them, if I can, in order to buy medical supplies and other things required for my health.

I hate having to labor for myself. I had wanted to be saintly and, like Saint Rose of Lima, make beautiful works of art for the sake of other people. The disabilities and the cost of addressing them, have put a monkey wrench into that desire. I am going blind and need three separate types of eyeglasses to accommodate my visual disabilities. I need walkers to deal with mobility problems and special food to prevent allergic and asthma attacks that could kill me. The list goes on and on. Frankly, it is infuriating. It is also the method by which the Lord is humbling me, so I must thank Him.

Living Room prayer corner

Bedroom prayer corner

Although I am unable to live according to my aspirations, my life is somewhat more retired than  many American's lives. I don't smoke, drink or take drugs. My entertainments are few. I haven't gone to a movie theater in more than 20 years. I do not travel. I do not eat in restaurants, except for the rare occasion when a friend will treat me. I don't attend parties. I don't play video games. Obviously, I do not date and have not done so for more than 20 years, having given up romance even before making the formal commitment.

I HAVE spent a lot of time writing this blog, which I am phasing out. It was originally started at the urging of a friend who imagined that I could supplement my income with it, but I have since learned that the only way one makes money is to "monetize" it with ugly advertisement. In addition to marring the beauty of the layout, the advertisements slow down the ability of the user to read the page. The many hours I have spent writing my posts are not recompensed, and if I am going to work at something, it needs to generate an income of some sort. 

Consequently, I am cutting back on the blog in favor of a novel with movie possibilities on the back end. I was raised in the entertainment industry, sold a number of stories to an episodic television show in the 1970's, and probably have as much chance of selling a novel as anyone else might. Alongside this, I have planned a series of paintings and "art jewelry." (I have also sold quite a few paintings in my lifetime, so I will continue doing that.)

Sunflower I grew in a large pot outside my apartment

Some aspects of my life are hermit-like. I am nowhere near any of the stores that carry the supplies I need, so I have to order almost everything online and, while I do live in the heart of the city, I am fortunate that I can spy a bit of greenery and wildlife on the other side of the fence from the apartment complex.

Recently, I found some rose bushes on sale at a local hardware store and placed them in pots outside my living room window, very near a statue of the blessed virgin that I got for free (long story.) The arrangement gives the impression of a meditation garden, but the apartment is far too noisy and too open to foot traffic to operate as such. During the day, there is the constant flow of people going to and from the pool. At night, the sizable homeless community prowls about, looking for items to steal. Recently, my rolling walker was stolen from right in front of my apartment door. I heard them taking it but was not fast enough to catch them in the act. Apparently, they were prepared and had brought some kind of vehicle into which they tossed it.

Nonetheless, I am grateful to have a glimpse of garden outside my window, and I can pretend that I am living in a real hermit's cottage.

In the ditch, we have hawks, beavers, skunks, racoons, ground squirrels, herons, egrets, sandhill cranes, Canadian geese, wood ducks, mallards, owls, diamond back water snakes, bats, hummingbirds and a wretched infestation of June bugs that, for some reason, come to my front door to die every year.  Sweeping them from the door is a daily chore that makes me sad for them.  If they are still alive, they cling to my broom and make a type of hissing sound, poor things.  Still, I enjoy the many critters. Their presence contributes to the atmosphere.

Hawk on my back fence

While I am unsuited to the rigors of any established convent, I do my best to create my own convent atmosphere and habits, to the degree I am able.  At times, I am sad that my disabilities make me unacceptable for convent life and too poor to create a spiritual retreat on my own. I had hoped to be of some use in the world, but my entire life has been one long, stressful effort to simply survive, an effort which has become harder and harder, as the chronic illnesses worsen.

Compounding the difficulty is the lack of compassion in our government and among our Christian people. I am poor and unable to get basic needs met because I am too sick to work, but society would have us believe that I am poor because I have some character defect. It is a perverted point of view, and certainly not in step with our Lord Jesus, but the love of money has ALWAYS been a source of great evil. Those who love money usually hate people.

In my younger years, though ill with inherited things since my early 20's, I never imagined I would have difficulty supporting myself in my old age. I was supposed to have inherited a goodly amount from my father, who always promised it, but after he was stricken with Alzheimer's, a disreputable person had me written out of my father's will through an attorney who did not know him and had no clue that he had lost his mind. Alzheimer's patients can appear to be quite normal to other people, especially in the earlier stages. I tried to challenge it, but was surprised at the extent to which people will go for the sake of filthy lucre - how many lies they will tell, and just how long "the long con" can stretch, over time.

Well, if the Lord wanted my struggle to end, he would not have allowed all of this. I bow my head to his will and offer it all up as my penance. I do not wear a hair shirt, but I suffer enough without it. It has been valuable in many ways, especially in the formation of my consciousness and resolve to remain in the monastic state, regardless of its difficulties. I still pray for a religious patron to help support my spiritual life and the prayers that support the world, though! I have not given up hope for that. If God wills it, he or she will come, but I have the feeling that the patron will not appear until and unless I become more perfect in my vocation.

Artists and religious people have always needed the help and support of patrons. Even the fake "ornamental" hermits have had their patrons. That is another sort of vocation, that of patron or philanthropist.

Me - sitting with the swami (in the back ground)

 when I was in the Hindu convent

One of the issues that needs to be resolved is the issue of tidying the environment when dealing with all the accoutrements of creative projects. Ideally, a monastic life is very spare, but a disabled person requires all sorts of physical aides in order to function in a minimal sense. It can really clutter the environment (especially in combination with art projects!) The disabilities make housecleaning extremely difficult, which also disturbs the atmosphere. In addition, it takes so much longer to actually DO the housework than it ever did before! It has become my full-time job, even though it is never really done.

When I was in the Hindu convent, prior to my conversion, I had far fewer possessions that belonged to me personally, but much more comfort and security than I have now.  Buying the furniture and other accoutrements that contribute to a restful atmosphere used to be someone else's job, and now it falls to me, along with everything else.

Gone are the days when I could live and sleep on the floor like a real acetic or hermit.  My aging body has rebelled against my former austerities.  These days, when I get down on the floor, I cannot get up by myself.  An electric bed and a recliner have become mandatory.  I cannot afford the electric bed, however, so have slept in my recliner for the last couple years or so.

My apartment is probably less believable as a hermit's cottage from outside appearances, but somewhat more authentic than the perfect looking hermit in the garden cottage on that big estate in England.

In any case, I am doing the best I can, between God's grace, my own efforts, and the occasional assistance of a Catholic friends.  I wouldn't mind if someone were to pay me to be a hermit, though, like that 18th century garden hermit - or at least to provide me a proper place to live!  Unlike the decorative garden hermit, I would actually be praying and devoting all my actions to God.  So far, there are no takers on that idea! (I often pray that something like this presents itself. I have been physically menaced quite a few times since living in this low-income apartment complex - once by a gang of hoodlum neighbors that have moved in recently.)

Until a religious patron appears, I will attempt to be more like Brother Lawrence. He was considered unfit to be either a priest or a choir monk. The choir monks were the high class monks who sang the beautiful Gregorian chants. Brother Lawrence was relegated to the kitchen where, among his pots and pans, he thought about the Lord all day, thus transforming his menial work into a glorious prayer.

I will take the example of Brother Lawrence and, no matter what form my monastic life takes, I gratefully offer it to the Lord.

God bless us all

Silver Parnell

Sannyasini Kaliprana
(c) 2015
All rights reserved

SOURCES:

Ornamental Hermits of Eccentric Modern England

Before the Garden Gnome, the Ornamental Hermit: a Real Person Paid to Dress Like a Druid

The Hermit in the Garden: From Imperial Rome to the Garden Gnome - by Gordon Campbell - AMAZON Link for purchase

THE SECRET OF THE COST OF LIVING INDEX

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

The Consumer Price Index upon which Social Security cost of living adjustments are based, actually deals with the spending patterns of younger WORKING individuals who buy high ticket items like cars, fancy telephones, electronics, etc.

Low income, older seniors, however, spend most of their money on rent, food, and utilities, therefore, our cost of living increases do not come anywhere near to addressing our ACTUAL cost of living.

Consequently, every year, we get poorer and poorer. Therefore, the longer one remains on Social Security, i.e., the longer you live, the further down the socio-economic ladder you descend.

This is not just a little bit true, this is true by a large amount. Let me give you an example:

This year, my cost of living increase is $5.10 a month. Yep. Five dollars and ten cents a month. That's $61.20 a year.

My COSTS, however, such as rent, medical insurance, medical co-pays, car insurance, utilities, are increasing by $515.10 this year, AT A MINIMUM, since I have no way of knowing how much food costs will increase. This means that I am "in the hole" a further $453.90 this year, at minimum.

This has been going on for twelve (12) years.

This is why I am frantically trying to figure out how to increase the income into my household. I'm always talking about it. How could I NOT? I am drowning in this dishonest, rigged system, despite having worked and paid taxes for more than 30 years.

Why should you care? Because some day, you could be in my position.

Of course, my situation is much worse than many women, who are better off, thanks to the incomes of their husbands and the help of their children and extended family. I don't have ANY of that.

Thanks be to God, I was gifted with many many talents, and I have faith that the Lord will help me to survive with those. It is almost as if He is FORCING me to use those gifts, so I am writing, painting, crocheting my little fingers off, hoping to keep myself afloat and not end up homeless. I also am a professional genealogy researcher, but no one wants to pay the fees. They want me to give them everything for free. I don't do that any more.

JUST IN CASE you have need of genealogy research, and you would like me to make you a nice little tree, you can order my services online at this link:

HIRE MY GENEALOGY RESEARCH SERVICES

JUST IN CASE you would like to help me survive, I have several Amazon wish lists where I have included all sorts of items I need to maintain myself and my little creative outlets. Here are the links:

LINK TO GENERAL LIST OF MOST-NEEDED ITEMS RIGHT NOW

LINK TO FIBER ART SUPPLIES

LINK TO FINE ART SUPPLIES FOR PAINTINGS

LINK TO FOOD SUPPLIES FOR THE PANTRY

LINK TO VITAMINS AND OTHER HEALTH NEEDS

Really, I'm not expecting much, as far as anyone else ordering from my lists, but I like to have them in a handy spot for my own reference.

I remember when I became disabled, the Swami told me, "Poverty makes you lose your virtue." I think it may be partially true, as it certainly has dragged my attention away from the Lord.

Being disabled is really the problem. I had wanted to just gracefully float through my final years, offering it all up and praying to the Lord through whatever came my way, but, you know, it is just not that simple. It is a mighty struggle.

The best I can do, I think, is ASPIRE to the consciousness of Brother Lawrence who, amid the pots and pans, prayed to the Lord while he scrubbed the dirty dishes.

I am sure, on some level, that the humility that disability and poverty bring, are very good for me. I feel like I am just groveling in the dirt, trying to create a living out of it. It's all good. It MUST be good, because God brings ALL things to the good for those that believe in Him. Amen.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

DO IT YOURSELF

Dr. Ray Guarendi

I don't know what life was like for the hermits of old, but I would bet there was a fair amount of depression, at times. People who devote themselves to the Lord do so as a vocation, not because they are perfect or because they have no needs or defects. Everyone is a sinner. Everyone has shortcomings, that is certain. Satan doesn't like to see anyone give themselves to the Lord in a strong way. He whispers disheartening things to them and attempts to throw them off their path. It is hard enough,, on a basic human level, what to speak of Satan interfering with his nasty ways. Satan is always ready to tell you that you are not able to give yourself to the Lord, indeed, that the Lord does not WANT you, that you are not worthy enough to present yourself to Him. Mother Theresa of Calcutta suffered depression for 30 years. It happens to us all.

My allergies have become so bad, I can no longer take anti-depressants. They make me terribly ill, which counter affects their purpose, so I must rely on natural remedies, as I do with many other types of medications. My medical insurance will no longer pay for my daily inhalation medicine, so I have to be even more careful to eat organic food and stay away from the pesticides than I was previously, otherwise, I could end up in the emergency room, or worse. It takes some organization and effort. If I eat very plainly, I can keep the expense down. I will manage somehow.

Dr. Ray Guarendi was on the radio yesterday and, I don't remember what he said, but I felt encouraged by his words. He was talking to a young girl and encouraging her that, despite the difficulties of life, there ARE people who want you to come to them and want to share your burdens, people who will pray for you and who will simply think well of you. There ARE many people who are sympathetic to those who struggle and to those who are in pain. It was very helpful to hear it.  In the background is the understanding that, most of all, the Lord is always here with us, which is where Dr. Ray ended up. Dr. Ray, thank you.

So, this morning, I woke early and was chipper and full of my typical plans and aspirations, my face newly turned to the Lord, so His light can shine upon me.

There are quite a few projects "in the hopper," so to speak. I have a number of "do it yourself" projects designed to get my needs met, since I can't afford to hire someone else do it for me. Many of us do not realize that Americans live as kings and queens used to do, with many servants at their disposal. Our servants are invisible, though. Every time you buy something at the store, in a package, already prepared, there are at least hundreds of people in that item.

Every time you buy a carton of milk for your kids, there are hundreds of people between you and the cow that created that milk in its body. Those are all your servants, but poor people cannot afford servants, which is why it is so hard for the poor to "make it" these days. The agrarian culture is gone, for the most part. The only way to GET milk if you live in a civilized place, is to pay for all those servants in that bottle of milk, but there are SOME things that one can make for oneself and do for oneself, and I am learning to become as good at doing that as I can possibly be.

I recommend that everyone try to imagine what life would be like if you had to create everything that you had, if you had to make all your clothes, raise the chickens, milk the cows, etc.

Grooming of my service dog is one of the expensive regular services that I can do myself, once I finish accumulating all the tools. I just need to get a special pair of electric clippers that can handle his super thick coat, and a table. I've managed to accumulate the other things, and regularly brush and cut his coat with some doggie scissors.

There are several side businesses I am starting: things I can do while reclining in my chair, such as crochet projects, home-made lace, baby blankets, and that kind of thing. The Victorians that lived in the slums used to spend ALL their time working like this, putting together decorative items to sell to ladies for their hats, making match boxes, and other things that you can see on that program VICTORIAN SLUM HOUSE, currently airing on BBC.

Gradually, I learn how to do many things, sometimes relying upon YouTube videos. I bought some dental tools and learned to clean my own teeth. Tools are important when you slide down the socio-economic ladder. I do the best I can to take care of myself. I get a little healthy food from church friends, when they are able.

This experience, of having to make do and make my own has ignited a good bit of interest in my mind to learn to do, make and invent ALL KINDS of things, so I have become an extremely busy person for a religious. The things that I am learning to make and do for myself are, fortunately, done in a solitary fashion and have enough repetitive work involved in the basic making of the things, that I can do it all for the glory of God and put a prayer in every stitch, blob of paint or glue, etc. It is peaceful work, not pushed beyond my limits, because I have no boss. It doesn't matter that it takes me a week to make a beautiful lace chapel veil with embelishments. Scrooge isn't standing over me, cracking the whip. One day, I'll make all the veils and jewelries and rosaries and paintings for sale in a big, Christmas extravaganza, the platform for which I've not yet decided. I will probably get an Etsy page online, as it is full of tradespeople, craftsmen, do-it-yourselfers, and artists like me.

The do-it-yourself "fad" is moving through our society at the same time that I am being put through my paces on this, and I am grateful that there is a lot of instruction online for all sorts of things. I am very keen to make hats, socks and shoes, especially since my feet are deformed and no shoe really fits them right. The shoes may be a bit beyond my reach, but there ARE some videos and articles about making one's own shoes AND I do know of a Tandy Leather Company that used to be here in Albuquerque, not far from my house. so at least, perhaps, mocassins would be possible? As far as the hats are concerned, I am going blind with cataracts and macular degeneration and have been told that wearing hat and sunglasses all the time will help retard the growth of these diseases. I always say that, just because I am disabled doesn't mean I can't be stylish, so I will also enjoy the hats.

With all these do it yourself projects in my imagination, I have a list on Amazon that I keep, to remind myself of the tools and materials I need to produce these things. I have several lists, actually. Some are for the regular shopping, some are for side businesses and one is for my tools and supplies. I am grateful for all help, if you would like to contribute something from the list. Everyone knows that start-up costs are difficult, but if you really would like to help someone rescue themself, as so many people claim they do these days, then I will welcome all contributions from the list!

Amazon has my mailing address and will send it to me directly. Please send me your address through Amazon, so I can send you a proper 'thank you."

Most hermitages rely upon income from a combination of small businesses, usually manual labor, and donations. I have a little social security and with that, and a little help from my friends, I survive, happy enough, and always grateful to God for the many blessings that we in America receive just by living here.

CLICK HERE FOR AMAZON TOOL LIST

Lord save us all.

Silver Rose

REVIEW - VICTORIAN SLUM HOUSE - PBS

The cast of "VICTORIAN SLUM HOUSE"

PBS

Some people in America justify cuts to social programs by claiming that individuals and churches will take up the slack. They claim that no one should be "forced" to help the poor through the payment of taxes, and that it should be done by free will.

These people ignore the historical reality of what really happened the last time we left it up to the churches.

Watch Victorian Slum House on PBS and take a look at the horrific conditions in which these people had to live and toil.

In this case, it is in England. The "cast" are not actors, but British people whose ancestors lived in the slums during the Victorian era. It is a reality show with a tremendous amount of educational opportunity for young and old alike.

It isn't the jolliest thing you could watch on television, but I find myself riveted by it.

It may just touch the stony hearts of Americans with a "sink or swim" or "dog eat dog" vision of the world.

Check it out.

Silver Rose

PRAYER CORNERS

Living room prayer corner

I've written several times how important it is to have at least one prayer corner in one's house, where one can be quiet and spend time with the Lord, pray and bring all things to Him. I've taken some photos of my prayer corners, and I thought you might enjoy seeing them. I have a somewhat fussy style...a Victorian, shabby chic, East/West meld in the living room...and a more sober set-up in the bedroom.

Anyway...here are some photos.

Our Lady of Fatima

Statue I got in honor of the 100 year

anniversary of the apparitions

(The rose is from my potted garden!)

The icon, to the above-right of Our Lady of Fatima, is Saint Olga Equal to the Apostles, a great grandmother ancestor of some degree of mine.

The rose from the potted garden

My ancestor, Saint Anna of Novgorod

Many prayer corners are MUCH more streamlined and sedate. One doesn't have to have a plethora of icons. I just happened to collect a lot of them when I was attending a Byzantine Church. The Ukrainian pastor did not approve of the commercially made icons. He did not think they were "real" icons, and he put all of them on sale at a steep price cut because of it, and also because we had a huge stock and nothing was selling.

I was the happy recipient of much of it, spending far less than I normally would have spent.

It makes me very happy to be surrounded by pictures of the holy ones.

Have a blessed day.

Silver Rose 

Enjoy!

LET US GO OFF THE GRID

I agreed to a magazine discount of $2.00 per year per magazine as a "gift" from a merchant, and, try as I might, despite continually calling their number and CANCELLING the service multiple times over the last 6 months, they keep charging my account.

I could no longer afford renters insurance and cancelled it last week. I received an email confirmation that it was cancelled. The next day, they charged my bank account as if the cancellation had not happened!

I ordered bottled water from Walmart, which was supposed to arrive today by FEDEX, but, unbeknownst to me, FedEx had destroyed the shipment (AGAIN) and, instead of advising me, made arrangements with Walmart for me to receive a NEW shipment on Tuesday....while I waited for it ALL DAY TODAY. Computers don't care that the customers are left hanging. Computers cannot anticipate that customers need to be notified of changes.

I tried to correct the Walmart snafu with an online chat person, who I waited for 3 minutes, and then he told me I had to be patient because he was talking to more than one person at a time! No wonder he got the whole thing wrong. He was multi-tasking...the bane of my existence. I demanded the customer service phone number for Walmart, which is not available anywhere...online or on the internet, that I could find. Then I got off the internet and called them, explaining the damn thing ALL. OVER. AGAIN.

This is not the half of it, but I can't imagine you want to read it. Suffice it to say that I have spent the ENTIRE afternoon trying, in vain, to get my bank (Wells Fargo) to correct these issues (and others) without treating it as if some STRANGER had made off with my card, forcing me to cancel my card (again) and wait for another week before I have access to my account, without going to the bank, standing in line, getting a temporary card, etc. etc.

I am disabled and home bound. The entire reason for using these infernal debit cards and internet ordering is so that my needs can be met, but they AREN'T met, not even nearly met.

It is obvious that the merchants are disreputable, dishonest and majorly incompetent, but the bank insists that it be treated as if my card was STOLEN. Why do they not want to admit the true problem?  Because WELLS FARGO is disreputable as well, along with all the other banks.

Not long ago, a salesman at Wells Fargo tried to fraudulently open a credit card account in my name. Fortunately, I am so poor that my credit is lousy and they were unsuccessful. I received a letter in the mail from WELLS FARGO apologizing that they could not accommodate my recent request for a credit card! I was astonished. Sure enough, it was on the news before long that thousands of these accounts had been opened, and the customers hadn't a CLUE about it!

I submit that our system isn't working, yet the technophiles keep pushing us "forward" into more and more complex technological systems.

I called a friend of mine the other day, and he has this "Alexa" thing in his apartment. "Alexa, put bottled water on my shopping list," he said. The machine repeated the instruction and reassured him that the item had been put on his list. As for myself, I find this horrifying. Really, a piece of paper and a pencil is far superior.

When making an appointment with your doctor, an appointment book, a pencil, and an eraser is MUCH FASTER and infinitely more efficient. Why is everyone ignoring this fact and pretending that these technological toys, computers, internet ordering and all that goes with it are somehow more efficient? Talking to computers is impossible. They never give you all the choices that they need to include. You can't press any button or say anything that it will accept because it is only programmed for certain things, whereas a human person can simply ask you, "what can I do for you?" Provided, of course, that the human person's command of the English language is sufficient for the job.

All of this automated stuff was SUPPOSED to be cheaper, easier, faster and more efficient, but it ISN'T. People just find it fun, I suppose...the idea of it....like the Dick Tracy watch from the comic books.

Switching over to the "old style" of living will definitely be more difficult, especially for someone like me, who is ill, mobility challenged, and in constant pain, but I suspect very strongly that a sense of peace and tranquility will descend upon me as soon as I am rid of as much technological ties as I can possibly cut away from me.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Silver Rose

THE EVIL OF ASSUMPTION

"Nothing is sweeter than to think

well of others."

Saint Therese of Lisieux

As mentioned previously, this blog is sporadic, due to the natural ebb and flow of American life for a disabled senior lady living in a low-income apartment in the Southwest. Just the process of the cooking, cleaning and suchlike exhaust my aging body.  Since I started this blog with a view in mind that my personal experiences may speak to the larger class of people to which I belong, I am sure you understand that this is an intensely personal collection of writings in which there is almost nothing of what you'd call a "professional" vibe.

San Felipe de Neri parish church

Old Town, Albuquerque

(Photo protected by copyright-

No use allowed.)

Father Dennis, at San Felipe de Neri parish church once told me that advocating for the vulnerable is the way that I can turn the injustices perpetrated against me to the benefit of others. 

Swami Swahananda also helped me come to terms with some of this with his stories and corny jokes! 

One of his jokes deals with the difference between an optimist and a pessimist. When an optimist is thrown into a cell in which there is a large pile of horse dung, she crows with delight and starts digging through it, exclaiming "I just know there is a pony in here somewhere!" This describes the job I am doing with my blog just perfectly. Giving you all a glimpse into my personal experiences and how they relate to my quest for holiness (and sometimes just plain old survival).

I have some stories to tell you from my life, with all the above in mind.

Swami Swahananda

Something happened recently that has made me want to talk about the damaging aspect of assumptions, but it's a big topic, so I will focus in on a previous time in my life when this issue was particularly prevalent and personally ruinous.

One of the primary reasons I left the Hindu convent was my inability to deal with the constant gossiping lies of the other nuns. It was wrong of me to assume that these women should be better than any other group of ordinary women, but I was naïve about this. I should have realized that, just because one is a nun is no guarantee that one is ethical and immune from temptations. [Personally, I suspect that the tendency of women to gossip and tear one another down is the reason why men are in charge of the world to begin with, which is another issue I'd love to research one day.] At any rate, I experienced constant shocks when I ran up against this unattractive and unexpected state of affairs.

I  used to frequently catch one particular nun hesitating on the back stairs, with her head cocked in the particular way one does when listening in on conversations of others. Later, she would share these nuggets of information, though not always in their original form. Invariably, she would mishear or misconstrue something. It was comical, as I look back on it now, catching her poised on the stairs like that, but at the time, I felt the atmosphere in this place to be toxic, instead of spiritually helpful, because I was often the target of unkind speculation and gossip. The swami used to say they were jealous of me but I never understood why that would be the case.  

(I even woke up once to see my bedroom door cracked very slightly open, and this nun with her ear placed against the sliver of light that came through, which I thought was exceedingly bizarre. Was she listening to me snoring? I never could figure it out, and I was having enough problems with those people without calling her out on something she'd likely deny anyway.)

At that time, chocolate candies kept disappearing quickly from the snack cupboard, and several of the nuns assumed I was the culprit. I MUST have been, in their minds, because I was the chubby one. Without verifying their suspicions, they passed this rumor to residents of the ashram. 

The thing is - I wasn't the one gobbling up all the candies. I am not overly fond of chocolate.

The nun I used to catch eavesdropping in the stairwell went on vacation, and while she was gone, the chocolates remained in the cupboard.  It wasn't until she returned, and the chocolates began to regularly disappear once again, that the other nuns realized their error. Meanwhile, they'd spread their meanness all over the neighborhood, making me the butt of jokes. There is no way to suck this sort of thing back into the gossip machine once it's been spread everywhere. However, this experience did not keep them from continuing to spread lies - lies that live in the minds of others, even to this day.

When I first joined them, they spread rumors that I was lesbian, but by the time I had left, the same people were saying I'd been carrying on an affair with one of the ashram's male devotees while I was in the convent! Apparently, they couldn't make up their minds about what sort of sexual sins of which I was guilty! Horrible. Just horrible.

The physical work enjoined on the less senior nuns, which included me, was much more than my body's congenital deformations could tolerate. My back gave out and I was in a wheelchair for a short time. One of the senior nuns went to the swami and claimed I was "faking." He knew this was a lie and he immediately reported to me what she had said. I accosted her in the kitchen when she was preparing herself a nice tea tray and questioned her about it. Unused to the direct, honest approach, rather than the typical passive-aggressive rumor mill, she was nonplussed and hemmed and hawed. I called her to account for herself and she could not.

YEARS later, when I visited the swami to celebrate our arrangements for my taking sannyas, the back injury I had sustained in the convent had blossomed into a full-on disability that was largely responsible for my having to stop working outside the home, but because the nuns in the convent had spread the rumor, years previously, the devotee with whom I had coordinated part of my visit refused to park in the handicapped parking spot and made me walk a considerable distance to every location we visited while we were there. I was completely at her mercy and she flatly refused to use the handicap placard I brought with me. At the end of this visit, I was in terrible physical pain because of this woman's cruelty.

Another devotee tried to force me to move from a spot where she wanted to sit, even after I explained I was disabled and needed to remain where I was.

While the hosting devotee had offered to "put me up" she had instead placed me with her sister, above the garage, with a long set of stairs and no bathroom. When I asked to switch with someone who was NOT disabled, the sister coldly refused. She and the other guest looked down their noses at me. The lies of the nuns, from many years ago, had come to roost. (The next day, the sister drove me to an event. On the way, we stopped for an errand and I saw her use her dead mother's handicap parking placard so that she could park in a convenient spot for herself. Rumor mongers are often hypocrites.)

These are just a small portion of how I have experienced, first hand, the destructive power of assumptions, lies and gossip.

"Gossip can also kill, because it kills the

reputation of the person! It is so terrible

to gossip! At first it may seem like a nice

thing, even amusing, like enjoying a candy.

But in the end, it fills the heart with bitternesss,

and even poisons us."

~ Pope Francis

While I was a nun in that Vedanta convent, I started reading about Christianity, and was struck by the kindness and love of Christ. I had no experience with Christianity or Christians, but I really warmed to the Catholic mystics. I naively imagined that the Christians would be kinder, more gentle, less prone to gossip and rumor. But when I left the convent to investigate further, I discovered that people are the same everywhere. I had no problem making friends, but as soon as Trump came on the scene and I began to object to his misogyny, xenophobia, racism and bigotry, all but a handful of the Catholic friends turned their backs on me because they love Trump and were mad that I did not share their enthusiasm for him. His policies, words and actions are the antithesis of Christianity, yet many Christians are almost slavish in their devotion to him.

"He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding

to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies,

he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the

father of lies."

~ Jesus in John 8:44

This week, I have come to hear of yet another assumption about myself that led to gossip in the apartment complex where I live. It is a complete lie.  I have come to the point in life where it no longer surprises me. I have seen it SO many times. After all, I've been lied about by experts. I DO worry about the souls of the people who are spreading lies, though.

A Christian would say that Satan loves assumptions because they lead to gossip that is based on lies. Generating lies and promoting their dissemination is dangerous to the soul of the liar because the dark one is the father of all lies.

"I would rather you make mistakes in kindness

than work miracles in unkindness."

~ Mother Teresa of Calcutta

For the love of God, save your souls and the souls of your fellow Christians by avoiding making ASSUMPTIONS about people that lead to gossip. When you hear something derogatory about someone, don't spread it to others. You don't know if it is true or not, and you don't want to be linked with Satan.

Remember what Therese of Lisieux said about how pleasing it is to think well of others.

THINK WELL OF OTHERS and be blessed!

Blessings
Silver Rose

BLESSED TEARS

Blessed tears that wash the heart of all impurity!

Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to be graced with the prize of being treated as the least of the least! From my place where I have been thrown upon the dirt, I see how brightly shines the lamb and how dark is the serpent, so I may crawl toward the lamb in humility, grateful for the ignominy I share with you.

Blessed tears that wash the mind of all impurity!

Thank you for the warning that the weeds would grow among the wheat until the day of harvest, when the tares would be thrown upon the pyre and burnt, while the authentic wheat is taken up and preserved. Grateful am I to receive the punishments from those who appear good but are devoted to the dark one, for I know to turn away from the false ones and follow the holy.

Blessed tears that wash the eyes of all impurity!

Thank you, Lord, for sharing the wisdom of the cross, so that I may see the road clearly, and walk it without being deterred by the pain that goodness earns us in this world. Thank you for purifying me in the crucible of pain I share with you at every step I make toward you on that rocky way.

Blessed tears that wash the will of all impurity!

Thank you Lord, that you allow me to exult in the joy of obedience to you, my Lord, though it brings me low in the estimation of the world.

It is a crying week, it is a crying month, it is a crying year, and years before. Blessed am I to be gradually hardened in the fire of your love, in the crucible of your promises, in the broken flesh of holy woundedness, then cooled in your own tears of suffering,

Sweet torture of wisdom descending and burning its mark into my flesh! I thank you, Lord for it all.

Silver Rose