I am delving into the lives of two of the nineteen saints who share a feast day of January 5th, along with 17 other holy people. The two I have chosen, Saint Paula of Tuscany and Syncletica of Alexandria, were not linked in life, but I see some parallels in the way in which they made use of the circumstances that were thrust upon them.
In the case of Saint Paula (d. 1368), she was "given" to the Camaldolese nuns when she was very young - which is usually an indication that the parents had no dowry for the girl or they were too poor to feed and house her. The death of a parent could also result in the girl being given to the nuns to raise. I haven't found any details about that.
Saint Syncletica, however, was born into a Macedonian family of means. Being both wealthy and beautiful, she had many suitors for her hand, but at a young age she dedicated herself to The Lord and refused all offers of marriage. As it happens, the entirety of her parents' estate was given to her, as both of her brothers died and her blind sister was dependent upon her and put into her care.
While Saint Paula was placed in religious life due to lack of resources, Saint Syncletica came to it with quite a bit of money. She could have had any sort of life she wanted, but chose the contemplative life instead.
Bad circumstances can lead us to religious life just as well as happy ones, as today's saints can attest. It is a question of access and livelihood that would allow it.
In my own case, I had spent some time in a Vedanta (Hindu-based) convent in my 30's and loved the life but ended up leaving, which is a long story in itself. Suffice it to say that, for many reasons, I was in the wrong place, so I got a job and took an apartment. In my late 40's, the disabilities that have plagued me since childhood exerted so much pressure on me that I had to stop working. I simply could not work outside the home any more. The disabilities had worsened, increased in chronic pain, and multiplied. It was more than I could handle.
After my initial dismay, I prayed about my situation and suddenly realized that I could re-dedicate myself to the contemplative life, turning lemons into lemonade thereby. I was going to be stuck at home ANYWAY, and my retirement income, though very small, would be enough for food and a roof over my head, so I took the plunge.
In one sense, it was "easy" for me because I am temperamentally suited to contemplative life and I had always intended to return to it "full time" and perhaps even start a group for contemplative women of a certain age.
(I've lost a bit of weight since then.)
Every day is a new opportunity to make the choice to put my mind on the Divine. There are many days when my body interferes with that process. (It is demanding, this envelope of flesh!) The choices one is allowed consist of opportunities outside the parameters of earthly limitations, and I have quite a few of those - especially now that I have begun to lose my vision. But I ask myself every day if I am taking advantage of whatever choices are available to me at this time. I ask myself if my attention is on the Divine? If it is, then my choices will reflect that reality because whatever decision I make, large or small, is colored by the inclination of my mind.
Both Paula and Syncletica became known for their holiness, and many women came to them for instruction. In addition, Paula is best known for also easing tensions between Pisa and Florence, acting as a peacemaker between the two warring cities. See: CATHOLIC SAINTS INFO - "BLESSED PAULA OF TUSCANY" You would think that, with such a weighty accomplishment there would be more written about her - but no. In fact, there are so many Saints called Paula that many of the writers have mixed them all up.
Syncletica gave away her fortune to the poor and withdrew to a lonely spot with her blind sister whom she still had to care for. She was widely known for her devotion to humility and spoke frequently about this spiritual quality. She died of a terrible cancer that ate away a portion of her face. Her last few months, understandably, were excruciatingly painful, but she was gifted with the consolations of visions from God and left this earthly plane in a heavenly state. See: CATHOLIC ONLINE - SAINT SYNCLETICA
Every day, I try to remember to study at least one of the saints of the day, so that I can celebrate a feast every day! There are usually ten to twenty of them, but I will choose one that appeals to me - usually a female monastic - and then I imagine that the saint walks with me throughout that day. Their story becomes intertwined with my boring life.
My New Year's resolution to simplify my life, more and more, is proving increasingly complicated because modern life itself is complicated. I am struggling against my physical conditions. They taunt my aspirations and torment my mood, challenging the patience that I have worked so hard to develop over so many years! But at least my face isn't being eaten away, like poor Saint Syncletica!
Today I had to pick up groceries from the market across town. It took hours to get myself showered, dressed and prepared, with the dog walked, morning pills consumed, hair washed, etc. I had to drive through the bank to get a few $5 bills to save for tipping the people who load my car. By the time I swing by my friend's house to drop off some old clothing made of good fabric she could use in her sewing projects, she was worried about me and told me she had thought about calling me but didn't want to distract me while driving. It had taken me hours to get out of the house.
By the time I got home with the groceries and unloaded them, I was exhausted and in terrible pain. I sat in my reclining chair, and I remain there until this minute. I really need someone to shop for me but the professional shoppers won't go to the stores that I choose. They will only shop at the very closest stores, and the ones in my low-rent neighborhood do not have healthy food. I am almost in a food desert. So I have to order the groceries online, then get in the car and drive across town, and they load it into my trunk. Today, I was supposed to be there between 9 am and 10 am. I got there about 3:30.
Not being able to pick out the groceries myself is turning out to be a real trial. I have had to throw away at least 2 or 3 items in each shopping trip because they pick rotten food or expired food or they substitute with something that is FULL of chemicals. I had two nightmare food items in the bags today and I had to throw them away.
I can feel myself slowly, gradually, losing my abilities. Driving will soon be impossible, thanks to my vision loss. I am just praying that I can keep all the plates spinning in the air until after Covid has been vanquished and it will be safe to have an attendant in the car with me or in the house with me. I keep telling myself "then I can fall apart!"
On difficult days like today, I think about how, if my inheritance hadn't been stolen from me when my father got Alzheimer's, I would be better able to take care of myself - but this is what happens when one's parent is a flaming narcissist with millions of dollars, a glamorous career, and a stable of women in which he was unfaithful to every one of them. The woman with the most access is bound to retaliate. Resentful of his "miserliness" or that he refused to buy her a fur coat, they feel that the man owes them everything - even the inheritance he promised to his children. My inheritance would have enabled me to better prepare for the impending blindness and other issues, with plenty left over to help others, instead of paying for some woman's fur coat.
I have to assume, however, that, after promising myself to God, he isn't going to make it impossible for me to follow him. I have to assume that He will attend to my needs and that the money won't be necessary. So I pray for the souls of the people who stole it and try not to wish it hadn't happened.
I am stuck in the chair for the rest of the evening but, fortunately, there is much I can do while sitting in this chair, aside from prayer, meditation and holy reading. I am crocheting some pillow covers to match the blanket I made for a dear friend. I write this blog, my novel and some poems. Sometimes I practice music (if you can call it that) on my guitalele (6-string ukelele.)
Later, I have to fight my recalcitrant body once more and take the service dog for a walk. Then we had to move the car into the garage because I couldn't unload the car if it is in there. There isn't enough room.
Poor Charlemagne must find me very boring. I have too much pain to spend much time outside with the poor little fuzzy boy. But, right now, he is snoozing away happily on my left leg while the laptop is propped on my right. It often crosses my mind that my circumstances could be far worse. A surge of gratitude courses through me. Much of the world is much less comfortable than I am, even considering my considerable pain and handicaps.
Earlier today, when I slipped the $5 bill into the hands of the young man who loaded my car for me, he wished me a happy new year. I promised him that 2021 would be a better year - not perfect - and maybe not even a "good" year - but things should be measurably better by January of 2022. And this is what I offer you. I do believe that the nightmare of the last few years will fall away, bit by bit, and we will eventually conquer Covid.
In the meantime, I pray to God that people stop dying from this awful scourge.
May god bless us all.
Silver Rose
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