RETURN TO THE LORD IN HASTE

 

If there is one abiding principle I have learned in the 20 years I have been living the hermit life, it is that the Lord is always with us and all we have to do is turn our gaze to Him to submerge ourselves in the recognition of the continuing connection between the sheep and their Shepherd.

How this is done forms the life work of the spiritual aspirant. The more quickly one returns to God as each worldly task is completed, is an indication of our appetite for Him, for if we are tempted by the allurements of the world, then we tarry too long entertaining our baser instincts, wasting the gift of our attention when we should be delighting God with our loving glance.

Even the hermit cannot experience the submersion of the concentrated faculties in God every minute of the day. Our minds are required to negotiate our way down our path, whichever road we have chosen or which has been chosen for us. 

To pray unceasingly is the path of the contemplative hermit. Prayer and Labor, Ora et Labora, establishes the rhythm for the hermit, as our engrossment moves from one mode to another, from work to the Lord and back to work again, everything in its proper time. Our concentration needs to be complete for each. The Lord will know when our entire mind is not with him, and He will miss those parts of us that are withheld from Him, as He wants our entire consciousness to be upon him. Likewise, during our dedicated labors, even if only washing the dishes, we need our whole mind for the task, otherwise the crockery gets broken.

Just now, there is a lot of crockery being broken on Capitol Hill, and it is very distracting. We have a president who is rampaging through all the arms of the government and breaking things, in contravention of our laws, the Constitution, and our customs. It is disturbing to the hermit, first of all, because many people are being hurt unnecessarily and cruelly, which always bothers this hermit. 

The overriding problem, as I see it, is that this is not "business as usual" because this ruler is imitating many of the same things Hitler, Stalin and others have used to suppress and control people. 

I have reason to believe we are in danger of losing the democracy that allows me to live as a hermit, in peace. It will be more than crockery that gets broken if this man is allowed to follow through with his stated aims. Our entire way of life may be broken. 

Because of all of this, my attention has, of necessity, been captured by current events in a way that has not been done before this. There are civic duties to discharge, and I must do them. But at the same time, I cannot abandon my contemplative life.

Although I am aware that there is a constant stream of bad news and reportage of frightening events, I am posting this to remind my friends not to fall down that deep well of fear and despair. Do what you have to do in this crazy world of ours. Advocate for justice, write your letters, make your phone calls, have your meetings, feed the hungry, house the homeless, and encourage the downcast, but as soon as you are finished, return to the Lord in haste, and abide with Him in peace, quiet, and blessedness.

REMEMBER that, when you turn your attention to the Divine, the anxieties do not follow you. They do not follow because they CAN'T. 

When we are absorbed in God, the Blessed Mother, and the encouraging saints, that beautiful vibration that we reach and then match with our inner selves will not allow for the anxieties to catch us. God is all good, and when we are absorbed in Him, Satan and all the worries of the world CANNOT join us in that protected space of Sacred Love.

The one caution I would give is to make sure you do not cling to the bad news. Don't become fascinated by the evil of the world. Don't attach yourselves to your pet peeves, or you will become peevish instead of holy. 

Do only what you feel you HAVE to do in order to discharge your duties, and then flee to the Lord. You do not want to become attached to the anger and hostilities that are flooding the public space. Anger has its own type of endorphins that flow into the body, and then you are caught.

I have seen more than one religious person become stuck like this. Their "message" becomes fixated on ugliness. Instead of pointing to our holy Lord, and presenting the beauty of the Holy Face, they post pictures of the torn-up bodies of aborted babies, and the images of people who live alternative lifestyles and have dozens of piercing and tattoos on their faces and necks. Instead of attracting the world to the promises of Christ, they repel them with grotesqueries and attempt to engage them with hatred toward people who live or think differently than we do.

Part of staying focused on The Lord is by maintaining a loving eye on the world. To love our neighbor is not to objectify him as a person to hate, but as a person who is beloved by God and to whom we may offer a brilliant image of the Lord, our blessed Mother Mary, the saints and angels, and the heavenly realm.

After all, life on this earth is not all we have to look forward to. So we attend to our duties with love and care, laying our minds at the feet of our Lord as much as we are able, all the while keeping a willing heart within us, always ready to incline ourselves toward God.

I pray for you. Please pray for me.

Silver Rose

SAINT ROMUALD - JUNE 19

 

Saint Romuald

951-1027

Canonized in 1582

Pray to him for reformation of the church and for monastic life

"Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole

world behind you and forget it."

St. Romuald

Today, one of the saints we observe is especially remembered for reformation of The Church and for monastic life, in general, so I recommend this to my small group of hermits in my Facebook hermit group and for other hermits unaffiliated with us.

Just like most Americans of the middle classes and above, Saint Romuald spent his early years in pursuit of pleasures in the tenth century, unconcerned with his spiritual life or weightier matters. Then one day he saw something that horrified him and opened his eyes. He saw his father kill a relative in a duel over a disputed piece of land.

The story that comes down to us is that, after witnessing this bloody duel to the death, he initially meant to spend 40 days at a local monastery, in reparation for the sins of his father and his family. But somehow he never went home again. Something within him was profoundly altered. (Dear God, may we all be so altered!)

At the same time that the temperamentally impatient and newly convicted monk entered the monastery, reforms were well under way. He was not well liked because of his criticisms of the more lax monks, and I am guessing they were relieved when he was given permission to become a hermit in Venice - something that appealed to everyone, each for their own reasons!

This is where any similarity between me and today's saint ends. I tend to be more understanding how  difficult it is to maintain an ascetic life in our modern times, especially now that I am disabled and in pain all the time. I have thought for a long time that my body is forcing me to endure asceticism that is not natural to my temperament and probably the only way that I would ever willingly endure suffering! After all, I MUST accept the pain over which I have little control, so it is best to welcome it and use it for my salvation and in reparation of my own sins and the sins of others.

But St. Romuald grasped the acetic life without force, and after 20 years as a hermit, he was called out into the world to found more monasteries. It was not always easy. Just because Holy Roman Emperor Otto established him as the abbot of the first monastery he endowed in his kingdom does not mean that it was successful!  The monks were not having any of it, as they were too established in their comforts, and I don't know if they kicked him out or if he simply gave up on them, but within a year, he was gone.

There are many different types of monastic life in the Catholic Church, and the version that Romuald left us is rather appealing. A group of contemplative monks would live together in silence, peace and grace, sharing work, meals, mass, and prayer schedules, but in the spirit of deep silence and contemplation. Each had their own cell and lived in a sort of cooperative hermitage.

Romuald left 7 practices for his monks. Each hermit must:

    Love his cell,

    Be detached,

    Be self-observant,

    Diligently pray the Psalms,

    Maintain ultimate reverence before God,

    Practice strict asceticism, and;

    Grow more childlike in accepting grace when given.

Personally, it sounds like a tall order for people who must also live together and cooperate with one another in the running of the monastery.

This arrangement grew into the tradition of the Camaldolese monks. 

The calling of a hermit, though a relatively rare state, is crucial to the health of The Church, in that it supports The Catholic Faith in a deeply contemplative way while, at the same time, is a cenobitic, or group living, situation, where monks adhere to a life in common. The Camaldolese share this life in common with other monastics called to a solitary spiritual practice. An interesting combination.

Many older Catholics may find themselves living alone in their later years, for various reasons, but to live for God alone and transform that single life into somewhat of a hermit existence isn't easy. One needs some of the grit that St. Romuald appeared to have, and it doesn't hurt if we also have the intense conversion experience of our own, as he did.

But it is not required that we be accepted into an official INSTITUTION such as a Camaldolese monastery. Besides which, most monastic institutions only accept young folks.  What I am talking about is kicking it up a notch in the spiritual discipline department and taking one's later years SERIOUSLY in relation to our relationship with The Lord and with our own spiritual life.

No matter how we live our later years, whether as a strict hermit or a lesser and more modest version of it, let us all pray that, as we age, we grow into the unique, particular vocation that God desires for each one of us. Let us pray for one another, that we grow stronger in our commitments and practices, despite the vagaries of old age, just as St. Romuald did.

God bless us all!

Silver Rose

(c) Copyright 2024

All rights reserved.

DISABLED HERMITS, LAY CONTEMPLATIVES, THE UNMARRIED STATE OF LIFE

 

"Hermitage View"

by

Silver S. Parnell

(c) Copyright 2024, 

all rights reserved

Even though I am an independent little hermit, and I have no official overseers, I still try to keep a monastic schedule that a contemplative nun in a convent would recognize. This means prayers at certain times during the day, meditation, contemplative, and study, as well as regular reception of the sacraments of confession, reconciliation and the Eucharist.

Trying as much as I can to meet these requirements, I fail more than succeed in meeting these duties on a rigid time schedule, due to the unwelcome intrusion of the effects of my physical disabilities, but I know that the Lord sees my efforts and is with me in each conflict that I am fighting. I can feel the Holy Spirit carrying me along when the body and mind are unwilling and that, regardless of my failures, He is with me in all things. Although I am humbled by all of it, I am also uplifted by the generosity of the Lord. I give Him so little, in the general scheme of things, and it is only through his help that I am even able to do that. It occurs to me that, since He gives us even the power to give ourselves to Him, reliance upon Him is not something to which we have to aspire, but which is the point entirely. He has done me the favor of allowing me to become largely disabled in my old age so that this lesson is before me at all times.

Putting into place one duty at a time, until it is established, seems to be the best option for my limitations, so I have gradually put into place the chanting of the Angelus in Latin at 6 a.m., noon, and 6 p.m. I understand that, in better days, all the church bells of most of the towns in Christendom used to ring at those times, in order to remind the faithful to stop their labors and remember the Lord and His Blessed Mother.  This was just one of the benefits of a Christian culture that is no longer in place, not because the administrators of the cities and towns have fallen down on the job, but because the population itself has become more secular and is turning its back on Him. The Catholic remnant is often seen complaining in the City Halls of government about this sad reality, as if the force of politics could repair the broken soul of society. It cannot.

No, it is each one of us who must struggle individually against our own sinful natures to reach for the Lord because the comforting arms of a supportive society and church are no longer wrapped around us, helping us toward the goal. Society and the church are preoccupied with their own survivals, to a great extent, leaving many of us to dog paddle in the shallow moat around the church, while the comfortably ensconced Catholic denizens pull up the draw bridge, making it impossible for the frail and needy to get in. Only the holiest of  members put their own worries aside for a moment to come outside the gates and bring us The Bread of Life to sustain us, and I am grateful for two holy friends who, despite their own cares and responsibilities, bring me the Eucharist and other necessaries of life.

In this gradual concentration of American Catholicism into itself, there are made some accidental hermits whom I am beginning to meet on the road outside the palace gates. They did not leave society so much as society and the church have shrunk away from them, in the process I have described above, and they are making the best of their situation. It isn't an easy life, once the hermit is aged and infirm - particularly if he or she has no support system in the way of caring family members who might alleviate the distractions that simple survival presents to the physically impaired person.

Some months ago, when I was communicating with the Vicar General of my area, I had suggested starting an online group for the independent hermits, which he said I could do, if I wished. It is lucky that I have a substantial education in contemplative life, which is the life of the hermit, and that there are many books I can recommend to these people that I meet on the way, as well as the natural wisdom of experience. I have lived as a hermit since before I became Catholic, and I have learned some helpful lessons in more than 20 years of solitary life. 

Basically, disabled hermits who live in the world are simply living what God intends for those people committed to single life.  According to Fr. Chad Ripperger, one of my favorite priests on the internet, God's will for the single Catholic is pretty much the same as that which is recommended for widows by St. Paul. As with all Catholics, we should be doing all we can to advance in holiness, aiming for a life of virtue and spiritual perfection. Our free time should be geared toward helping the church in whatever way the laity can do this, since ours is part of the lay state, although in some ways it mimics the contemplative monastic life in some of the routines and in our solitude.

For those of us with serious physical disabilities, our gift to the church is our prayers. My particular charism is for the reunification of the Orthodox with the Catholic Church, and I dedicated all my prayers for this purpose more than two decades ago, when I became disabled and promised myself to God.

For anyone considering discernment of God's will for them, especially if you are thinking of committing yourself to the hermit life , I am offering you a talk on "Discerning God's Will," given by Father Chad Ripperger, one of my favorite of the public priests who offers guidance on YouTube and elsewhere. Otherwise, he is also an exorcist and has published at least one book of special Deliverance Prayers, which I find very helpful. (I bought the paperback AND the kindle version, so I would have it with me always.)

Click Here for Fr. Ripperger's Talk

This is what Father's book looks like:

If you are also  a Catholic living as a hermit, accidental or not, contact me on my Facebook page:

Click here for my Facebook Page

Once I have had some input from at least 4 other Catholic hermits to ascertain whether or not there is a need for a hermit group, I will offer mine, which is already created but not yet open to applicants.

God bless you all!

Silver Rose

Silver Cottage Hermitage

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Saint Ælfflæd of Whitby - February 8th - My 20-year Anniversary as a Hermit

 

The ruins of Whitby Abbey

Seen above the town, in modern times

My 20-year anniversary

Twenty years ago, on about February 3rd, I finally became so disabled by my various injuries and illnesses that I could no longer hold down a job, and I had to retire early on my Social Security retirement insurance into which I had paid for more than 30 years. At that time, I decided that I would dedicate the remainder of my life to God alone, and three years later I entered the Catholic Church, by which time I had decided to offer my pains and sufferings for the benefit of The Church, with the intention of supporting the reunion and re-integration of the Catholic Church with the Orthodox that had split from it in 1054.

Practicing the Presence of God

In the following 17 years, while wrestling with these illnesses and defects, I read as much as I could about the examples of the saints and, to the best of my ability, I keep my mind "at the feet of The Lord," practicing the presence of God in all of my mundane doings. In every moment, I make an effort to keep my mind attuned to The Lord. He keeps me company in all of my hours, and I maintain awareness of his presence in an intimate communion with Him. Whatever I am doing, I am conscious that He is accompanying me in all of it in a quiet embrace. He is both within me and around me. When keeping touch with Him in this manner becomes difficult, I speak to Him interiorly and/or out loud and ask for his help in short sentences, such as "Lord save me!" or "Lord help me!"  It doesn't take much to get my mind back on track.

The Offering of Pain

Because of the chronic pain throughout all the bones in my body, my acetic practices do not have to be artificially created. Old-time contemplatives had the habit of denying themselves food or causing themselves some other type of pain, such as with the infamous hair shirts of the middle-ages, but I have plenty of pain to spare that my body introduces on its own, without bidding from me. While the physical pains prohibit the use of customary forms of acetic practices, they are, actually, a replacement for them. Over the years, I have gradually come to realize that my disabilities are my blessings. They both bring me closer to the Lord and act as a type of spiritual currency to offer up in reparation of the sins of the world and especially the sins of those who create division, such as the division between the Roman Catholic and the Orthodox churches.

What is Most Important

I do not pretend to have anything resembling a proper monastic schedule, due to the inability to gain cooperation of my body. Indeed, for this reason, someone like me would be a burden to any institution, which is the main reason I remain at home. But if I have learned anything in the last 20 years, it is this: What is most important is the condition of the mind and the topics on which I allow it to dwell.

Although I also suffer from a persistent type of insomnia that refuses to be tamed, this condition forces me to accept the mantle of humility. After 20 years, I simply cannot bring my schedule into line with what I consider a proper monastic schedule.  I have substituted the practice of the presence of God in every moment, even though I often wish I was not forced to do it this way, however I try to be grateful instead of focusing on the downside. It is a challenge, and I often struggle to keep the mind "on the high road," but this battle also has its benefits.

Spiritual ambition

I have noticed some chatter on social media with regard to those of us who live as monastics at home, and it has become clear to me that there is a lot of confusion around what would be considered the basics of this life that are not negotiable. Celibacy is probably the one crucial observance that everyone living as I do must absolutely follow. I have learned that every major religion which has a monastic tradition requires the same thing. Our deepest affections and attentions belong to The Lord alone.

There are some characters who advertise themselves as "anchoresses" or hermits of some sort who are married and live with husbands and children and enjoy the typical comings and goings of relatives. They are devout and fervent householders, which is a noble path, but it is not monasticism.  Due to rabid clericalism, some women discount themselves and the holy vocation of wife and mother for some idea of a quasi-monastic vocation that they mistakenly believe is somehow superior to their own.  It is not. What comes out of this confused idea is a jumbled chaotic spiritual life that manifests in an inauthentic presentation to the world. They have an emotional need for validation and their attention is not on Christ.

It is a wonderful ambition to desire to become a saint, but it is a different sort of thing to have an ambition to be REGARDED as a saint by other people. I see a lot of this on social media when I have made the mistake of joining supposedly "Catholic" groups started by women who have not had enough validation in their lives and who immediately begin to slather new members with sickeningly sweet appellations, such as "my dear child," followed up by unasked-for spiritual direction and other nonsense. The craven need to be followed and admired is sadly obvious.

The vocation of an independent hermit IS a peculiar one to begin with and, for all I know, we have to be at least a little bit "odd" to embark on it, but most of us have had an attraction for monastic life since we were children. I, for one, discovered the Carmelites when I was 11 and carried out an intense correspondence with them, much to the ire of my mother who was not at all religious and who absolutely hated Catholics! She soon put an end to my correspondence with them, but the desire for the contemplative monastic life never left me. I experimented with it in various forms, from "New Age" religions to Buddhism to Hinduism, and eventually the Catholic Faith, where I happily remain.

When you live as an urban hermit:

Living in the world but not OF the world is in many ways much more difficult than being part of a monastic institution. In a convent or monastery, one is propelled forward by the rules and watchful eyes of your sisters and superiors. Everything in your environment is geared toward the spiritual goal, and it is placed in front of your eyes and in your ears every moment of every day. Unless you go out shopping or to the doctor, it is a rarified atmosphere.

But as an independent hermit in one's own home, it is all up to you. Other than what is forced on you by society or your landlord or your physical disabilities, every decision is ultimately yours to make. Your schedule, food, rising and sleeping, prayers and observances - It is all on you. You can't just surrender to the institution. You ARE the institution.

While the Catholic Church is FULL of monastic institutions of various orders, Catholic history is rife with independent monastics who either remained at home to practice their spiritual disciplines or they went out into the wilderness to find solitude.

Our history includes hermits that eventually attracted a following around them and drew other hermits into their orbit, which was the beginning of a cenobitic lifestyle, but this is less common today due to the complex organization required, as well as financial practicalities that make it very difficult to arrange.

I try to research a saint on each day, and am helped a great deal by the Catholic.org website that publishes the names and some of the life stories of all the saints who share the calendar day as their feast day, and it is rare not to find at least ONE saint who lived as a hermit. Often, there are several.

As an independent monastic, however, we have to be careful not to put ourselves forward as some sort of official personality. While I am Catholic and I am a hermit, I try to avoid claiming to be a "Catholic hermit" for the specific reason that I want to avoid the pretense that I am somehow affiliated with the official institution of The Catholic Church.  There is a provision in the catechism for something called a "Diocesan Hermit," and I do not know what sort of bona fides one needs to have for this particular title because every time I have called the bishop's office about it, I get crickets in response. After half a dozen phone calls and brief discussions with functionaries whose job it was to coordinate this activity, I gave up. 

My impression is that, unless they already know you, you are out of luck - probably due to the inordinate number of "kooks" (as one priest described them to me.) Several "cradle Catholics" have suggested to me that if I was wealthy, the Bishop would be calling ME. I don't have trouble believing that, but in any case it is irrelevant. Considering the ever-worsening condition of my health, I probably have little to offer them anyway.  I had been attracted to the idea of possibly having the Eucharist preserved on my prayer shrine and this is the one benefit of taking Diocesan Hermit vows that keeps luring me toward it. I do not have the opportunity to regard our Lord in the host under any other circumstance, as I am rarely able to attend church, due to disabilities and lack of transportation.

Saint Ælfflæd Of Whitby, my cousin

The saint I have chosen for today is a cousin of mine: Saint Ælfflæd Of Whitby. We are each descended from a long line of saints, mostly along the female lines.  The ancestor that she and I share most closely is Clotair I, a Merovingian King of the 5th Century, whose mother was Saint Clothilde, Queen of the Franks (the French, essentially.) 

Saint Clothilde

Queen of the Franks

My 42nd Great Grandmother

4th Great Grandmother of St. Ælfflæd 

Clotair and his wife Waldrada were my 41st great grandparents. Their family line is jam packed with saints, mostly female, but some male as well.

Saint Hilda of Whitby

Not only was my cousin well connected, spiritually, but she was also a member of royalty and her line is lousy with kings and queens. This is where it becomes obvious that our destiny is often hinted at within our family circumstances because, while I was enabled to become a hermit by virtue of disability that prevented me from working, Ælfflæd  was destined by another type of circumstance.  When she was barely a year old, she was given to Saint Hilda to raise in a convent at Hartlepool. When Hilda left Hartlepool to establish the Abbey of Whitby, on land given The Church for that purpose by Ælfflæd's father, King Oswiu, she took Ælfflæd with her. Ælfflæd was still a toddler at this time.

Picture of King Oswiu

King Oswiu is credited with convening the Synod of Whitby, out of which came the decision to adopt Roman Catholic ways rather than Celtic. I have found reference to him as a saint as well, but I have to verify that.

From her infancy, you can see that my cousin was trained in the way of the monastic saints. She was also highly influential in government.  Stephen of Ripon described her thus:

"...always the comforter and the best counselor 
of the whole kingdom."

~ Stephen of Ripon
Author of The Life of St. Wilfred

In fact, there is so much really fascinating information about the life and influence of today's saint, that it inspires me to read further and, rather than wait to publish this blog post and use information that would, essentially, reinvent the wheel, so to speak, I will just post a few really good links at the bottom of this post and let you choose whether or not you also have interest in Aelfflaed.  

Advice to parents:

Many times, I have heard parents say that they will let their children decide what religion to follow when they're grown up. I just wanted to point out that whether one becomes a monastic or a lay person is often determined by circumstances of family and education, and there is a bit of a whiff of destiny in the whole thing.  I do not believe in strict "destiny" per se, but experiences, environment and education do substantially mold or prepare a person for adult life. This is why I have come to believe that raising your children in the faith is important. 

I'm not saying that one should give one's child to the church to be raised as a nun from babyhood, such as what Aelfladd had done to her, but I am just pointing out that it is better to get an early start on religious education. Everything in Aelfflad's family and life circumstances were channeling her to the path of sainthood and she accomplished great things. (Read about it through the links, below.)

I did happen to eventually come to The Faith on my own, despite efforts on the part of others to keep me out, but it took a lot of time to get to that place. In the end, the options that remained were few. You don't want your child to experience unnecessary limitations. Fortunately, convents do accept applicants at older ages than they used to.  Formerly, you had to be no older than 25!  It isn't that way any more, thanks be to God. At least that is one limitation that is less daunting in this age.

Regardless of whatever limitations or difficulties I may have endured, I find myself feeling very grateful that I am not so sick that I cannot pray or that my pain is not worse.  I am grateful to have adequate medical care and a decent place to live with a wonderful view of the Sandia mountains that turn pink at sunset. I am grateful that The Lord does not abandon me in my golden years and that he has left me with at least ONE eye with which to read His Holy Word.

Often, there is not enough money for a proper healthy diet, or to repair the ancient chariot I need to get me around, or to take the service dog to the vet, and I am most grateful for any and all charitable donations given for those things. There is a "donate" button below my picture (above right) and any amount is most appreciated. I will also get an updated Amazon wish list done up very soon. I do get tired of asking for help, as you probably also grow tired of being asked, but I must endure the humiliation as I have no choice in it.

That's all I have for you today. Please pray for me during the month-long celebration of my 20-year anniversary, and I will pray for you, as always. Look for the list of interesting links about Saint Aelfflaed, below.

God bless us all!

Silver Rose

Links to Saint Ælfflæd of Whitby:

"Saints' Bridge" blog (very well researched)

Catholic.org post about her

Wikipedia page about Aelfflaed of Whitby

COMMUNING WITH SAINT EANFLEDA ON THANKSGIVING

 

The First Thanksgiving, 1621

by

Jean Leon Gerome Ferris

(1863-1930)

I am such a dummy at times. I am sure we have all had realizations which, on their occurrence, make us want to smack ourselves on the head and say, "here it was, in front of me all the time, and I did not see it!  DUH!"

When I went to sleep last night, I prayed for two things: (1) that I would be able to sleep at least 6 hours to get the amount of sleep I am told we "need." Plus, I wanted to be fresh enough to go to my cousin Bobby's house for Thanksgiving dinner, and (2) that The Lord would give me some insight into His intentions for me with regard to my contemplative monastic vocation because I am making a hash of it and clearly I have gone off the rails somewhere.

Well, I woke up after only 4 hours and, no matter what I did, I was unable to lure myself into any more sleep. I was simply awake. PERIOD. So much for prayer number 1.

(As an aside, we all know that if we have told him we want to know His will, He will not give us what we pray for if it is not within the orbit of that will (unless there is a lesson in there that will bring us back around to it) - and especially if we have not recognized A GIFT HE HAS GIVEN US.)

I have lately been complaining about how my environment is not conducive to spiritual life, how it is noisy and the people disruptive, and how, in addition, I have all these physical problems which I do offer up, in a general way, but have yet to really incorporate into my spiritual disciplines or my understanding of what God wants from me.

But one of those very maladies that has appeared over the last decade, as mentioned before, is a "terrible" case of insomnia in which I am absolutely unable to sleep any longer than 4 hours at a time (at which point I wake up ready to take on the world) unless I dose myself with melatonin and marijuana, and a Benedryl chaser. (P.S. I have a prescription for the marijuana exactly for this purpose, just to be clear. I had never been a cannabis imbiber until that doctor suggested it. I am FAR too square to be a druggie. Hey, I don't even drink.)

When I first embarked upon my solitary contemplative monastic vocation, the first thing I worried about was that I would not be able to fulfill the vision I had of this vocation because my entire life I had been unable to interrupt my 8 hour sleep cycle.

Please don't laugh at me. I am as dense as anyone else at times.

I was watching a video that I just "happened" to find this morning on YouTube, while having my morning coffee, after my 4 hour sleep, of a man giving a talk about converting from Judaism to Catholicism and how his trip to a Carthusian monastery impressed him so very much. He recounted the schedule of the monks, who must rise at midnight and chant the office until 2:30 a.m. or thereabouts.

He mentioned a film I have seen, not once, but at least three times, about the Carthusian contemplative orders, and I suddenly felt a prodding from within:

"Ummmm...Silver Rose...you COULD just use this gift of 4 hour sleep cycles to incorporate chanting the Holy Office - in the middle of the night - when it is dead quiet," The Lord seemed to be saying to me. "Seeing as how you've been complaining about your inability to do all the prayers and supporting practices that I like to hear from my monastics." You can just hear the smile in His comment, can't you?

Of course I laughed at myself, which I end up doing quite frequently these days. Thank goodness there are no humans about to see all my mistakes, but I sometimes wonder if human beings are akin to God's form of television entertainment, in which case, I am a funny reality show, complete with pratfalls and stupid utterances. (It's not a perfect metaphor, I know, because God is probably both the watcher and the director, as well as the production crew, all in one.)

Today' saint, my cousin, Saint Enflaeda, may be sitting in Heaven enjoying the farce also. "HOW long did it take this woman to figure it out?" she may rightly say.

I have a LOT of ancestors and cousins who began life as a normal sort of householder, or even a royal one, but because they came from a long line of saints, by the end of their lives they were firmly ensconced in the monastery, praying for the rest of the world, and usually RUNNING the darn thing because God was prompting them from within and everyone else could see it.

Saint Enflaeda, (3rd cousin, 39 times removed) was the daughter of King Edwin of Northumbria and Queen Aethelburh of Kent (or Leminge) (my 2nd cousin, 40 times removed). She lived between 601 and 647 A.D. Their marriage heralded the beginning of the conversion of the northern part of England to Christianity, since a condition of the marriage was that King Edwin had to convert. Aethelburh was Christian, and if he wanted to marry HER, he had to do this.

 

Whitby Abbey's Ruins, today

Their daughter, Enflaeda, (today's saint, whose feast day it is) in turn, married a minor king Oswiu, and after HE died she retired to Whitby Abbey, where she guided the nuns as co-Abbess with her daughter Aelfflaed, who had been raised in that place, under the original Abbess, Hild, from the age of one year old! (These people were serious about their religion and it was not uncommon for very young girls to be given to monastic institutions to be raised as a nun from very early years.)

Oswiu had been married before, and because this was so far back in time, we are not positive which children belonged to which wife. There is general agreement of probability, but that's the best we can do. All I know for certain is that Eanfleda was both queen and mother and had an active worldly life until her husband died. Aelfflaed, who was given to Whitby at the age of one year old, was certainly her child.

A sketch of Whitby, as it used to be

Generally speaking, if you want to join a Catholic convent, then as now, you pretty much have to be either a virgin or a widow. (And sometimes you had no CHOICE about it.) Otherwise, you must remain at home and conduct your spiritual practices there. (Many saints, such as Rose of Lima, naturally gravitate toward the home base anyway.)

Catholics nurture a horror of divorced persons, even if the divorce was made prior to baptism. That's been my experience. I stopped fighting the prejudice long ago, despite the official position being something else entirely. There is a Catholic culture perpetuated by cradle Catholics, for the most part, in which Catholics treat converts as if they were supposed to behave as Catholics their entire lives - even when they were heathen. It makes no sense and, like I said, it is not the official position of the church because it discounts the importance, function and implications of baptism. But I'm too sick to fight it at this stage of life, especially since I am now fully disabled and going blind. I am my OWN abbess at my OWN monastery. I call mine "Silver Cottage Hermitage."

The Shrine in the Main Room

at Silver Cottage Hermitage

This brings up the topic of praying for something and hearing "no" as an answer, only to discover that God was watching out for me with His "no." Perfect example is my inability to get support for my monastic vocation. Two decades after dedicating myself to God, I've become so disabled as to become useless to any institution and, on my bad days, would have been a positive drain on whatever place that had found itself stuck with me. In my case, I can clearly see that The Lord was simply turning trouble into transportation to where I needed to be, even if the reasons given initially were poppycock.

I still think I am due for a change of monastic atmosphere somewhere in the future, but I am not sure where or under what conditions. I have already lost the central vision in my left eye, so when I lose the vision in my right (if that does, indeed, come to pass) then a LOT of the activities that I do now will become obsolete, and the space for them will no longer be required. I can envision giving away my library of physical books, as I won't be able to read them. Also my art supplies, my craft supplies, and various other possessions. I will be traveling light, once more, as I always used to do. I wouldn't be driving, that is certain. That may be another decade down the road.

My depth perception is already very bad, and I am bumping into things and dropping things constantly. Every day I must learn a new technique to keep from destroying the world around me. Only God knows what this life will look like before long. We shall see what He has in mind for me.

In the meantime, I do the very best I can, with my limited resources, understanding, and supports.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine was very quiet, as I was not feeling well enough to travel to someone's house and spend hours there. I've eaten simply and enjoyed my time researching today's saint.

Tonight I will see if that movie about the Carthusians can be streamed without charge on Amazon or elsewhere, and I will start to research their schedule and open up my imagination to how I may simplify something for myself, here at home, that is flexible enough to accommodate my disabilities.

By the way, I am still campaigning to get some food into the cupboards. Inflation has wreaked havoc with my food stores, there are certain things my doctors want me to eat, and some money-making attempts have failed miserably while sucking up my resources at the same time. Amazon has my address and will mail to me direct. Any and all help is very much appreciated.

HERE IS THE GROCERY & FOOD STORAGE WISH LIST ON AMAZON - CLICK HERE

May we all be blessed!

Silver Rose

SAINT WILFRETRUDIS, NOVEMBER 23

 

St. Gertrude of Nivelles

Aunt of today's saint

I usually present the dilemma of the day to the saint of the day to get some clarity on what I might do or how I might behave, if that saint were here to talk to me. That's a problem for today's saint, because almost nothing is known about her except that she is the niece of Saint Gertrude of Nivelles and was the Abbess of the monastery at Nivelles. Both of these saints are cousins of mine. Obviously, there are a lot of generations that separate us because Wilfretrudis died sometime in the 6th century. She is my first cousin, 29 times removed.  Her aunt is MY great grandaunt, about 30 times removed.

Let me tell you what happened today, and we'll get back to the saints.

Saint Begga of Landen,

also related to Saint Wilfretrudis

First of all, I got several pieces of bad news about financial things, then after a frustrating day, at about 6 in the evening, just about sunset, I went out to pull my car into my garage. Every day is a dance of pulling my 30 year-old car out of the garage so I can bring out my mobility scooter and use it when I "walk" the dog, and then put the car back IN at night so that it won't be broken into. (This neighborhood is RIFE with thieves who will break your windows just to steal some coins they think they MIGHT find on the floor boards. My car has been broken into many times since I moved in here, and the last time was a riot. They stole EVERYTHING, even a bag of trash. Poor Mr. Charlemagne lost his little doggie booster seat and seat belt.)

I was unhappy to find a car parked next to mine, blocking me from moving mine into my garage. I stood out there, honking the horn, on and off, for about ten minutes. I have no idea whose car it is. They have ignored TWO signs on the building that say "NO PARKING" AND the cross-hatching across which she parked AND the painted sign on the ground that said "NO PARKING" and "RESERVED" for my apartment number. She also, apparently, did not see the garage. I call this CONVENIENCE BLINDNESS. Self-centered people just do what suits them, even though they know they are co-opting someone else's space. They take what they want, without a thought to others.

To THEM, it is no big deal. How could it POSSIBLY be a big deal when I have something they want and it is convenient for them?

Nivelles Abbey

Where Wilfretrudis was Abbess

from 659 to 669

In my case, for instance, all of the bones in my hips, knees and feet were killing me. It certainly isn't convenient for me when I have to stand around in the freezing weather, with my bones screaming at me. I needed to put the car to bed so I could walk the dog and put myself to bed. I have yet to meet an interloper that would care about any of that. The neighbors know I am disabled. They see me on my disability scooter all the time, but they don't have sympathy. They let their visitors block my garage and don't tell them where to park. They apparently don't ASK their visitors where they did end up parking or, if they did ask them, they do not make them move. Nor did they bother to leave a note or send someone downstairs to knock on my door and tell me what was going on. For them it is no big deal because for them it is no big deal.

I had no way of knowing which of the 75 apartments was responsible for blocking my garage and, even if I did, I could not climb the stairs to the second or third floor to chase up the interloper.

Saint Itta of Metz

Grandmother of Saint Wilfretrudix

and

MY 29th Great Grandmother

This apartment complex has very little visitor parking and, in the past, I have made arrangements with another neighbor for her regular visitor to park next to me during times when I don't have to move my car. We worked it out together. But mostly, people just squeeze in and I have to get them to move so I can function.

The woman who finally came out of my neighbor's apartment was polite at first, but she gave the same excuse that others have done, i.e., "I was only going to be a couple minutes," which was not true. My body was hurting more and more. All daylight had disappeared, and it was getting harder to see with my one good eye.

At this point, I can feel myself getting irritated and anxious. I never want to lose my temper. It isn't what one does when one is determined to be a good Christian and a kind person. But my body and the weather are acting against me - so there begins an inner tension. I have to hold myself back. I was able to remain low-key, but I'm sure my tension was obvious.

Finally, when she came to move the car and I went inside the garage to get the mobility scooter  moved into the right spot, I heard this woman yelling at me in an indignant tone, saying, "do you even need to get out of the garage?" She wanted to know if I was making her move "for nothing," you see. This always happens, if I don't move fast enough for the interloper and they haven't figured out what I am DOING, for Heaven's sake! I have also heard some version of "do you NEED to use the garage?" They want me to justify my request that they remove their vehicle from my premises. They demand I answer to them about my schedule, which is not something I would ever be comfortable having to do because these people are strangers to me and they are already invading my space with an air of entitlement. What next?

Blessed Pepin I of Landen & Wife Saint Itta

Saint Wilfretrudis' grandparents

My 39th great grandparents

I did not answer her, but said instead, "what are you asking me?" and she huffed off, got into her car, and left. Fighting off frustration and sadness, I finished what I had to do, then moved my car into the garage. If she had not moved, I could not have done it. 

Of course, I have friends and well-wishers who live here, but there are some very aggressive and demanding people here. Every day when I get in and out of my car, I have to see the car of the woman upstairs. Across the window, it says in HUGE letters, "F - - K THE POPULATION." (spelled out completely.)

Some of these people on the low-income program see a disabled senior, and, instead of being helpful and sympathetic, they seem to begin calculating how they might take something from me or torment me somehow. There are even a couple of ex-residents who no longer live here but who follow this blog so they can report to others who still live here if they think I am writing about a known person. (I know who you are, by the way.) This is detrimental to my psychological disposition. It is hard to believe that people like this exist outside some film noir drama, and I had no experience with this sort of thing until I became disabled and my income dropped down to poverty level.

I can't commune with my cousin, Saint Wilfretrudis about how SHE would handle this because the monastic institution and circumstances protect those nuns. Most nuns do not have to own a car individually. The convent will usually have one or two, and none of the nuns have to think about how to pay the car insurance bill or the repair bills. It is an organizational thing, and it is someone's JOB to do that. lt is easier to live with poverty when it is lived together. Their entire life is engineered to support the spiritual aspect. They are not faced with hostile neighbors who disrupt the peace and quiet. Not typically, anyway.

We can't forget that Saint Wilfretrudis had a very strong family behind her. Her grandfather was Blessed Pepin I (The Elder) of Landen and her grandmother was Saint Itta of Metz. These two were my 39th great grandparents, and I only wish I had them more concretely on hand to help me with some things.

I DO have the constant companionship of the Lord however, and, although He is not in the habit of just stepping in and FIXING everything for Me, He stays with me through all of it and I pray that he gives me the inner urgings to guide me in the way he wants me to go.

Blessed Pepin I of Landen

and wife Saint Itta

My 39th great grandparents

and Saint Wilfretrudis' grandparents

Having lived as a nun in the Hindu convent, which was modeled after a Benedictine convent, I know how monastic life is supposed to look, how it is organized, how peaceful it is. This is not it.

Always attracted to contemplative life, I had hoped to be able to create it here, but it is not possible. Too much noise. Too many people. And it takes me f.o.r.e.v.e.r to do just about everything. Between the physical inability and the loss of my depth perception due to the blindness in my left eye, I have to be very careful about how I move, otherwise I am banging around and dropping things right and left.

Not only is this environment hostile to spiritual disciplines and simple prayer life, but since my son died I have no close family. At least Saint Wilfretrudis had her association with a family that was rife with saints. Not mine. I am the only Catholic in my family, that I know of, and I have no one close.

I just want to be clear that I am not weeping about this, mind you. I am not sitting here and typing this through tears or what not. I have never had close family - not really. I was terribly abused as a child and could not WAIT to leave home shortly after I turned 17. I've gotten used to being my own company, and after years of placing my mind at the feet of God, I have come to the point where I always feel his presence. People ARE made for one another, but there are the rare exceptions, and I suppose I am one of those. At least, God is accompanying me on my journey because He sees that my mind is with Him.

There is also a wonderful line from a Psalm that I love, Psalm 27:10..."For my Father and my Mother have left me; but the Lord hath taken me up."

When I was a little girl, one of my relatives gave me a book about the Bible, meant for children. I don't know how they got away with doing that because my parents were anti-religion, as was my grandmother. But I was always keen to find out about God, and so He has been with me since I was a little girl. I am not impervious to the disappointments of life, by any means, but I have faith in God.

For the 20 years since I first retired, I have been battling the worldliness I am forced to accommodate because I have no support for my spiritual life. If I was not physically disabled, it would be a lot easier. I would not have to live so close to non-monastics or, if I did, there would be boundaries established by the institution. In order to get my most basic needs met, I cannot just give my space to others and let them overrun me. It is a fine balance. I have to get my needs met without destroying anyone's peace - including my own.

Simpler days, when I was in

the Hindu convent

For some time now, I have been disappointed in how I have managed to create a monastic contemplative space. When I decided, 20 years ago, to return to living as a monastic, I had this vision of how I would transform my living situation into a peaceful, inspiring palace of meditation, but I realized tonight that I have been asking too much of myself. My heart was in the right place, but I am disabled, I live VERY close to other people, and there is only so much I can do.  

If it takes more time than I really have to take care of my physical needs, how can I possibly devote myself properly to long schedules of prayers? I just CAN'T. The contemplative model is only possible in a limited way, unless I were to be able to move elsewhere. So far, my efforts to bring in more income and thereby pay for more appropriate living quarters and some paid help have proved to be failures.

Amethyst Celtic rosary I made with

St. Margaret of Scotland center piece

and tree of life "our father" beads

My whole life I have had artistic side "gigs." I've sold paintings and sketches, jewelry and pottery, writing of all kinds, and many different creative products, but it is much more difficult at this time. I used to be unique - at least my friends and I believed I was. But since YouTube has so many excellent free videos on how to do just about everything, the market is glutted with ladies who make earrings or fingerless mittens or w.h.a.t.e.v.e.r.

I can't really live as an old-style hermit. Their lives were (and are) much more ascetic than I am able to be. Asceticism was never my strong suit anyway - because I have never been terribly physically fit. 

My life DOES revolve around the Lord, but it isn't supported by a monastic institution and it is unreasonable for me to expect my life to look like Saint Gertrude's or Saint Wilfretrudis's would look today. But I sometimes have to remind myself that a lot of these saints led "normal" lives before retiring to the convent. But I don't remember reading of any of them being physically disabled.

The pressures of householder life, especially when lived under the pall of multiple disabilities, in close proximity with hostile, non-religious folk cannot look like my favorites monastic saint's lives. Everything is an "inside job", without any external support. 

The only solution, I think, is to rely upon the Practice of the Presence of God. I'll have to speak more about that spiritual discipline later, but I will just say that it is a wonderful practice that helps keep me centered, and I believe I may need to practice it even more in the immediate future.

Hermit in the garden

by Hubert Robert

1708 - 1803

I think also that it may be more practical to find inspiration with my ancestor saints such as Saint Margaret of Scotland, who was both a queen (a VERY busy life) AND a saint. She found a way to become a saint in the midst of what could have been an extremely worldly life. I will have to meditate on a different vision of how to live this life devoted to God. Contemplative life cannot happen in noise and chaos, I don't think.

Dear Saint Wilfretrudis, my great grandmother Saint Margaret of Scotland, and all my other family of saints in Heaven, please intercede for me at the throne of God and help me find my way in this harsh landscape.

Saint Margaret of Scotland

my 29th great grandmother

God bless us all.

Silver Rose