When relatives want to gather, charity seems to call for dining out with them.
Somehow I am not ready to have guests, in general, visit Agnus Dei Hermitage on Lake Immacula. It is enough for people, when they ask, to be given an address in an area unfamiliar to them and so seemingly safe for continuing privacy and solitude. At some point I will be ready for guests in general.
In particular, guests are coming Thursday evening for supper (pizza is what they like; children are included). I like pizza, too. Plain cheese is fine. They are a holy family and know what this hermitage is about. We will watch the remainder of the St. Francis of Assisi DVD. The large television will be used for the third time in seven weeks. I'm still not sure if it will remain past a year or be donated to the Women's Care Center for their parenting instruction needs.
But today the incomplete hermit dined out in a rather noisy restaurant, but lovely, and conversed with the cousins. We discussed what family members are doing and where located now, and of moves and possible moves. We discussed the doing in life, and these cousins are more iconoclastic than any of my other relatives. They are fascinating to speak with and observe, and the incomplete hermit did her fair share of talking, maybe more so.
The topic of the woodpile came up. One cousin owns some woods with a cabin and goes there for short periods. He cuts wood and stacks it. He sent a photo of his woodpile, and truly it is a work of art. I keep the photo on my refrigerator as a reminder of silence, solitude, and slowness.
The topic of books and bookshelves arose, and I mentioned the current book about Saint Seraphim, hermit of Russia, on the cusp of the 18th-19th centuries. This conversation coincided with their asking me about my writing.... No, I am not writing anything publishable; I tell them I am writing about what it could be in our time period and culture to be a "complete hermit."
A complete hermit would dine out in these circumstances mentioned above. The conversation would turn, after a period of time, to something rather spiritual but without being pointedly Catholic since some do not at all appreciate Catholicism nor are willing to discuss the Church and Christ. Yet, St. Seraphim is an interesting and holy soul through which to share a life meaningful and Catholic Christian.
The incomplete hermit returned to the hermitage and began again to put order to the disorder of clutter. The woodpile is a fine example of functional order. At lunch the cousin had pointed out that not only does the wood dry out best if stacked and stacked well, but the wild turkeys love to perch on top of a solidly placed woodpile. "Does it give them a sense of superiority in a pecking order of which they are rather low?" I had asked. We pondered that and concluded there is something empowering for the wild turkeys to be able to be high without flying, to have a different view of the world, and in a sense of safety in so doing.
Maybe this is also for the incomplete hermit to note. Perch on something rather firm and solid which will provide a different view of the world, without having to expend much effort of which one is not so capable (such as flying), and be relatively secure.
St. Seraphim was brutally attacked by peasants who heard rumors he had great wealth and gold hidden in a bag. Rather, the bag was filled with stones, and it served as his mattress. This attack broke the hermit's health, and he was required to return to the monastery where he proceeded to remain in his cell for the next 15 years to complete his education in silence, solitude and slowness.
During this time food was brought to the door of his cell which at some unknown point would open and the food disappear within. Sometimes the food would remain on the floor outside the door, uneaten. Yet St. Seraphim advises that he learned well after suffering in his health, that a hermit should take care of himself and take proper nutrition, for the Lord may have work later which requires much energy with people who may need spiritual guidance, not to mention the hours of prayer required for the salvation of souls.
St. Seraphim did not dine out, but rather in, but given certain circumstances, he might well have dined out.
He would have chosen something inexpensive on the menu, and eaten all on the plate so as to not waste, and to have listened and spoken of matters charitable and of, for example, wood piles well stacked so that wild turkeys would have a secure and height to perch.
Somehow I am not ready to have guests, in general, visit Agnus Dei Hermitage on Lake Immacula. It is enough for people, when they ask, to be given an address in an area unfamiliar to them and so seemingly safe for continuing privacy and solitude. At some point I will be ready for guests in general.
In particular, guests are coming Thursday evening for supper (pizza is what they like; children are included). I like pizza, too. Plain cheese is fine. They are a holy family and know what this hermitage is about. We will watch the remainder of the St. Francis of Assisi DVD. The large television will be used for the third time in seven weeks. I'm still not sure if it will remain past a year or be donated to the Women's Care Center for their parenting instruction needs.
But today the incomplete hermit dined out in a rather noisy restaurant, but lovely, and conversed with the cousins. We discussed what family members are doing and where located now, and of moves and possible moves. We discussed the doing in life, and these cousins are more iconoclastic than any of my other relatives. They are fascinating to speak with and observe, and the incomplete hermit did her fair share of talking, maybe more so.
The topic of the woodpile came up. One cousin owns some woods with a cabin and goes there for short periods. He cuts wood and stacks it. He sent a photo of his woodpile, and truly it is a work of art. I keep the photo on my refrigerator as a reminder of silence, solitude, and slowness.
The topic of books and bookshelves arose, and I mentioned the current book about Saint Seraphim, hermit of Russia, on the cusp of the 18th-19th centuries. This conversation coincided with their asking me about my writing.... No, I am not writing anything publishable; I tell them I am writing about what it could be in our time period and culture to be a "complete hermit."
A complete hermit would dine out in these circumstances mentioned above. The conversation would turn, after a period of time, to something rather spiritual but without being pointedly Catholic since some do not at all appreciate Catholicism nor are willing to discuss the Church and Christ. Yet, St. Seraphim is an interesting and holy soul through which to share a life meaningful and Catholic Christian.
The incomplete hermit returned to the hermitage and began again to put order to the disorder of clutter. The woodpile is a fine example of functional order. At lunch the cousin had pointed out that not only does the wood dry out best if stacked and stacked well, but the wild turkeys love to perch on top of a solidly placed woodpile. "Does it give them a sense of superiority in a pecking order of which they are rather low?" I had asked. We pondered that and concluded there is something empowering for the wild turkeys to be able to be high without flying, to have a different view of the world, and in a sense of safety in so doing.
Maybe this is also for the incomplete hermit to note. Perch on something rather firm and solid which will provide a different view of the world, without having to expend much effort of which one is not so capable (such as flying), and be relatively secure.
St. Seraphim was brutally attacked by peasants who heard rumors he had great wealth and gold hidden in a bag. Rather, the bag was filled with stones, and it served as his mattress. This attack broke the hermit's health, and he was required to return to the monastery where he proceeded to remain in his cell for the next 15 years to complete his education in silence, solitude and slowness.
During this time food was brought to the door of his cell which at some unknown point would open and the food disappear within. Sometimes the food would remain on the floor outside the door, uneaten. Yet St. Seraphim advises that he learned well after suffering in his health, that a hermit should take care of himself and take proper nutrition, for the Lord may have work later which requires much energy with people who may need spiritual guidance, not to mention the hours of prayer required for the salvation of souls.
St. Seraphim did not dine out, but rather in, but given certain circumstances, he might well have dined out.
He would have chosen something inexpensive on the menu, and eaten all on the plate so as to not waste, and to have listened and spoken of matters charitable and of, for example, wood piles well stacked so that wild turkeys would have a secure and height to perch.
