Another S: Selfish

The hermit feels selfish. Mentioning this to the spiritual da, the da said only, "Perhaps a little." It is difficult to ascertain. We do not know for sure, not yet.

The hermit mentioned to a priest, sometimes a confessor, the feeling of selfishness, the feeling of too much comfort and not enough austerity, and he pointed out that feelings were rooted in the actions of Adam and Eve, and to discern the spirits regarding the feelings I am having. The devil can try to disrupt peace through "feelings."

St. John of the Cross includes the imagination, the emotions (feelings), as part of those rings wrapping around the inner-sanctum of the soul's will and intellect, as areas of free-encounter by the devil. The devil is allowed into these outer rings of senses and emotion and imagination; the will and intellect must monitor and proceed toward union with the Divine Mind and Will.

Here's a current difficulty: the hermit has gathered a lovely variety for the garb. While the garments are all discount, they are of lovely quality and classic style. The hermit is well-dressed, quite lovely for Mass and in outer exposure in the world. "Put together" is the term the adult children use, and "proper". Most do not know the symbolism of the seed crushed and fallen to the ground, buried to die in order to bring forth new life. This is fine. But it is a niggling point to the hermit--such lovely garb and comfort exteriorly.

Another difficulty is that the hermit has purchased yet more classic Catholic books on mysticism, hermit life, and saints. There is a guilt attached to the acquisition of such old books, some scarce,and yet so very worthwhile. But should the money be going to the poor? Perhaps someday these books will go to the poor--to poor Catholics or others who might be enriched in spiritual matters as a result of reading the books. Yet, the books gather, and the hermit does not begin to get all of them read, not yet, anyway.

There is a certain comfort--yes comfort--in having these holy writings from the saints and spiritual masters on the hermitage library shelves and lying about on end tables. The hermit works slowly through two or three or four books concurrently. The hermit began Caryll Houselander's Reed of God last night, spurred on by the delight a friend, struggling with issues, is finding in this selection which is the conclusion of our year of readings with Our Lady.

Then there is the selfishness the hermit feels with this massive and on-going PEACE. The hermit continues into the seventh week of a peace that passes all the hermit's understanding. The hermit loves to be in the hermitage. The hermit loves going to Mass. The hermit otherwise has no other desires but to be alone with God, to pray for others, to ponder and read and write and maintain the few responsibilities. A kind of bliss--maybe the serenity which is the ninth S--persists despite the pain.

During the night the hermit was awake a couple of hours. The hermit does not get far in praying the rosary--perhaps the Creed and Our Father and a few Hail Mary's. But then the hermit thinks about people who've asked for prayers--or those the hermit knows to pray for. The hermit simply lies there and ponders God, ponders the silence and this life of comfort, seeming comfort. The hermit prays for the people in the world, for souls in purgatory--for whatever comes to mind. It all seems so easy: too easy.

Then the hermit considers that perhaps Jesus wants life to be like this, to be easy as His yoke is easy; nearly burdenless as His burdens are light. The hermit ponders what other aspects of the world could be lopped off? In Caryll Houselander's first chapter, "Emptiness", she writes of how we exclude silence by filling our reed, our chalice, our nest--with clutter.

Are the books clutter? Are the items of the habit clutter? Is the cream for the cuticle clutter and comfort unnecessary and displeasing to the Lord? Are the orchids growing (and two more dying) clutter? Were the contacts with the people made through the purchases, clutter? No. These contacts had meaning, and more meaning than the items purchased. It is the contacts with the people that are the music of the reed, the Blood of the chalice, the lining of the nest.

Perhaps the hermit is selfish. Undoubtedly the hermit is--too much self, as ridding of self is the bane of human existence. But the hermit must not dwell on these feelings, for feelings are riveting self to more self. The hermit must strive to the S of selflessness, through almsgiving, prayer, penance, and also the gratitude for joy, peace and comforts in this life, given by God although undeserved by the hermit.