Blind to the signs

I woke up this morning from a hot flash and it finally clicked. I have been experiencing other signs of perimenopause but have largely ignored them and was instead severely appalled and disheartened by my recent behaviour (disproportionate anger is an unfortunate sign besides the hot flashes and other equally lovely symptoms).

I felt a sense of relief for I had been beating myself up this week for going off the deep end and having a go at people only to deeply regret my actions. I have been perpetually on edge and it does not take much to morph into the Incredible Hulk, leaving a swath of destruction in my wake.

While biology explains a lot of what is happening to me, and helps me deal with my guilt and shame, I am not giving in to it. I just need to count to 100 now instead of 10, and also be prepared to eat lots of humble pie when my impulse control is non-existent. Mostly I need to really look out for the signs and act constructively, instead of reacting negatively. Prayer helps tremendously, thank God.

Thus today's Gospel from John, chapter nine, came alive for me. How could the people around the blind man not recognize the sign of a miracle to the point they denied knowing the blind man who was their neighbour? What ridiculous lengths people go to in order to verify a miraculous sign, just because they do not accept the truth, that a humble carpenter's son could be a healer, a prophet, the Messiah.

Why do we keep praying for signs from God, only to turn our backs on the signs when they appear right in front of us? This is what happened to the Pharisees, and still happens to us, to me, today. Why do we desire to be good only to refuse to act with goodness just because it challenges our pride, our self-worth and our personal comfort level?

When we act contrary to the Spirit of love, we are spiritually blind. It doesn't matter even if we are right or justified in our actions. Being petty or churlishly small-minded is never right, no matter what the provocation. When we think we are better than others, that we have done our part, we are about to step off a precipice into sin and we don't even see the step into insubstantial air, until it is too late.

In today's second reading, Saint Paul said to the Ephesians:

You were once darkness,
but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light,
for light produces every kind of goodness
and righteousness and truth.
Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.

I feel as if I have been darkness this last week, the darkness of my hormonal imbalance and the consequent darkness of my mean-spirited disposition and searing anger. The good news is today I see that I am not beyond redemption. I merely have to be open to the truth and acknowledge the Lord's sovereignty in my life.

Even though I may not always be willing to go where He beckons, I know it will be good for me if I see and comply, for He only wants what's best for me. And I do trust Him.

This is, for me, a season of great physiological change. I can choose to be oblivious to it and suffer the damaging consequences, sinking into a pit. Who cares whom I hurt? I am not in a good place myself so my bad behaviour can be excused. Alternatively, I can look at it as a curse. Or as a gift. I choose gift.

My fertility may be on the wane but this can be a season of generativity and fruitfulness for me. I just need to start by taking care of my body, even as I take care of my spiritual health. Instead of pain avoidance, I can be motivated by building up my inner strength and beauty; the beauty of my soul, my inner being and my ageing body.

Saint Catherine of Siena said: If you are what you should be, you will set the world on fire.

What I should be, I know. I just need to keep my gaze trained on Jesus so as to see the signs with clarity, and simply become. Then, hopefully, I may set the world on fire.

Lenten promise

Is it just me or do temptations sing sweet, seductive tunes that are hard to ignore during the Lenten season? I find myself like Saint Paul - extremely contrary.

When it comes to prayer time, I get distracted incredibly fast or I drag my feet. Even though when I actually go inward and stand before God, transformation does take place. My unwilling heart uncovers the hidden desire I had inside to seek God and let Him touch me and fill me with joy. I am then given the necessary nourishment to weather the vicissitudes of the days to come. It is all good. So ask me why I can't pray more readily or eagerly?

On days of fasting, food suddenly seems all the more appealing and my tummy rumbles louder than it does on days when I am too busy to eat (and by default, am fasting). I struggle to define what constitutes true fasting, putting all my energies into counting the number of grains of rice I eat and pondering whether eggs count as meat or not.

I even delight in the fact that I may be losing some weight - always a desired thing. Thus the spirit of the fast is so easily lost, as is the opportunity to unite my efforts with my brothers and sisters in the world who are starving by circumstance and not choice. 

It is tough to keep the wholesome, unadulterated flavour of my Lenten efforts authentic. The answer to maintaining authenticity, as we all know, is interiority. A desert experience. Father Raniero Cantalamessa writes in his first Lenten homily:

Inwardness is the way to an authentic life. There is so much talk today of authenticity and it is made the criterion of success or lack thereof in life. However, where is authenticity for a Christian? When is it that a person is truly himself? Only when he has God as his measure.

So what keeps me from being grounded and real? It is the d word. As Father C writes:

Today also, the whole effort of the devil is to divert man from the purpose for which he is in the world, which is to know, love and serve God in this life to enjoy him later in the next; to distract him. But Satan is astute; he does not appear as a person with horns and the smell of sulfur. It would be too easy to recognize him. He makes use of good things leading them to excess, absolutizing them and making them idols. Money is a good thing, as is pleasure, sex, eating, drinking. However, if they become the most important thing in life, they are no longer means but become destructive for the soul and often also for the body.

The presence of evil in the world is something we do face. Our inclination to concupiscence is alive and kicking. But because Christ conquered the devil, we have nothing to fear. I may struggle with temptation in my Lenten journey, but I can and will persist for I know Lent can be a season of great beauty and fulfilment.

Father C's homily is not just an invitation to sobriety**, but to go into the desert, as Jesus did. To go down into my own heart, to renew my contact with God, because “Truth dwells in the interior man.” Truth that is not only "the secret of happiness and of peace in this life" but is about love. 

What does one in love desire more than to be alone, in intimacy, with the person loved? God is in love with us and he wants us to be in love with him. Speaking of his people as of a bride, God says: “I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her” (Hosea 2:16). We know what the effect is of being in love: all things and all other persons withdraw, are placed in the background. There is a presence that fills everything and renders all the rest “secondary.” It does not isolate from others, rather it renders one more attentive and disposed to others. Oh if we men and women of the Church would discover how close to us, within our reach, is the happiness and the peace that we seek in this world!

So the desert is not a place of desolation but a place of living intimacy. Lent can be much more than deprivation or stern discipline, it can be a time of courtship and delight, of tender love. 

Jesus awaits us in the desert: let us not leave him alone during this time.

* http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/father-cantalamessa-s-1st-lent-homily-2014

** As defined by Father C, sobriety is to willingly deprive oneself from little and great comforts, of what is useless, and sometimes also damaging to one’s health. This fasting is solidarity with the poverty of so many.

Wholeheartedly vulnerable

Just these past few weeks, an act of callousness by someone I love made me feel heartsick, worthless and full of shame. This shame, underpinned by the belief that I was not worthy of being loved, flooded through me and slew my equilibrium. Briefly.

What got me out of the hole I had fallen into was the buoyant truth: I am deeply loved and deserving of such generous love. Plus, listening to Doctor Brené Brown's TED talks* on vulnerability and shame made me realize how far I have come in living with, what she termed, wholeheartedness.

In researching shame, Doctor Brown found that shame, which is the fear of disconnection and the belief that we are not worthy of love killed vulnerability, severely impacting our ability to connect with others and ultimately find purpose and meaning in life.

Shame is what hamstrings us from living life courageously, from “daring greatly”, and to live as we were created to as humans, with wholeheartedness.

She found that wholehearted people are people with a strong sense of worthiness or a strong sense of love and belonging, and who fully believed they were worthy of that love and belonging. They had:

COURAGE The courage to tell their stories with their whole hearts, unafraid of being imperfect.

COMPASSION First the compassion to be kind to themselves, then to others.

CONNECTION The ability of connecting with others with authenticity. They were themselves, instead of trying to be someone they should be.

VULNERABILITY Fully embraced vulnerability and it is this that makes them beautiful. 

The wholehearted people she interviewed spoke of vulnerability as necessary, albeit uncomfortable. Vulnerability may be at the core of shame, fear and our struggle for worthiness, but it is also the birthplace of joy, belonging, love, innovation, creativity and change.

She explains vulnerability as the willingness to say I love you first, the willingness to do something when there are no guarantees and the willingness to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. Doctor Brown also describes vulnerability as emotional risk, exposure and uncertainty.

You might say that does not sound prudent in the least and you would be right. However the alternatives are far worse.

Doctor Brown found that you cannot numb vulnerability without numbing other emotions such as joy, gratitude and happiness. In keeping out the "bad stuff" (vulnerability is widely perceived as weakness), we keep out the good stuff as well.

Numbing vulnerability has strongly contributed to the current American adult cohort as the one that is most in debt and prone to obesity and addiction, with an over-reliance on medication.

Other unhealthy coping mechanisms include a tendency to make the uncertain certain, where we insist we are right, leaving no room for discourse. We only know how to lay blame (Doctor Brown defines blame as a way to discharge pain and discomfort) and to judge.

Then there is also the way we attempt to perfect things, refusing to concede that we are imperfect beings, wired for struggle. Unable to recognize that we are worthy of love and belonging because of, and not in spite of, our flaws.

We pretend. We tell ourselves that what we do (the less than admirable stuff) does not impact others and we justify even our bad behaviour. All this we do in aid of hiding our vulnerability, and shame. Doctor Brown pointed out the high correlation between shame and depression, addiction, eating disorders, bullying, aggression, violence and suicide.

As Christians we are lucky for we have Jesus, who is our poster guy of wholehearted living. How else could He have connected with everyone He met: the woman at the well, Zacchaeus or Mary of Magdala?

Vulnerability may result in hurt, betrayal and a stomped-on heart from time to time, but I prefer it to a drugged-out existence or one where I live in a bubble, untouched by life, and dead for all intents and purposes.

Should I let you break my heart again?
I must be mental. Certifiable.
To confine myself into that straitjacket you call love
More like infantile promises without bite or substance.
Good going down but ever so toxic.
Making me sick. Destroying me.
You can break me once, even twice. Not anymore.

Should I let you rule my heart again?
I must be stupid. Or just plain slow.
It's not as if I am unacquainted with your fears
The ones you hide so well - especially from yourself.
Swept under the carpet of vacuous bonhomie,
A grinning idiot displays more honesty.
Spared of your perfidious cowardice, I am at peace.

Should I let you touch my heart again?
I must be foolish. Possibly Christ-like.
Loving Him has taught me not to count the costs.
To risk much while keeping my dignity intact
Daring greatly without fear of rejection.
If I remain connected to Him, we can perhaps connect,
And maybe you'll catch a glimpse of Him in me.

* Worth a listen or two: http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability and
http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame

Woman

In praise of women the world over on this International Women's Day.

Created to bring life and beauty into the world,

Her gently curved smile and liquid eyes

Belie a will of tensile steel.

Strength of superheroes reside in her hands,

The hands that rock the cradle, cook and clean,

Conjuring a home out of scraps of nothingness,

Clothing it with inimitable feminine warmth.                

She works tirelessly to build a civilization of love

Blessing those around her like sunlight on rosebuds.

Generations to come have her to thank

For freedom was hard fought and costly as pearls.

Yet centuries of subjugation cannot defeat her,

For she is woman, tenaciously hope-filled,

A force of nature garbed simply in quiet faith.

In Christ's Spirit alone does she move and breathe,

Whether single or married she is certain

That love is the one thing that makes perfect sense,

Thus she makes choices that sparkle and shine

Like stars that guide the lone traveller at night.

She is your wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend,

Give thanks for her goodness that has no end.

LENgThening into poverty

In Pope Francis's Lenten message*, he writes about poverty and how God works by revealing Himself in the weakness and poverty of Christ, not worldly power and wealth. For Christ emptied himself so that he could be like us in all things. (Philippians 2:7)

The Pope goes on to explain just what that poverty is, that we, as people of faith should emulate:

Christ’s poverty is the greatest treasure of all: Jesus’ wealth is that of his boundless confidence in God the Father, his constant trust, his desire always and only to do the Father’s will and give glory to him. Jesus is rich in the same way as a child who feels loved and who loves its parents, without doubting their love and tenderness for an instant.

Through the voluntary act of giving up His will to the Father, Christ became the perfect conduit of God's love. He was, and is, our loving neighbour, just as the Good Samaritan was neighbour to the man left dead by the side of the road.

The question therefore begged: is my faith that strong that I can experience the compassion, tenderness and solidarity of Christ's love to the extent I can live out the wealth of true freedom, true salvation and true happiness? Or do I live out a very real kind of poverty, which is, as the Pope put it: not living as children of God and brothers and sisters of Christ?

If we believe, we are asked to share Christ's filial and fraternal Spirit in what we do to aid our neighbour and save the world. To love as He did.

In every time and place God continues to save mankind and the world through the poverty of Christ, who makes himself poor in the sacraments, in his word and in his Church, which is a people of the poor. God’s wealth passes not through our wealth, but invariably and exclusively through our personal and communal poverty, enlivened by the Spirit of Christ.

In imitation of our Master, we Christians are called to confront the poverty of our brothers and sisters, to touch it, to make it our own and to take practical steps to alleviate it.

Pope Francis goes on to make a distinction between poverty and destitution. Destitution is not the same as poverty: destitution is poverty without faith, without support, without hope. There are three types of destitution: material, moral and spiritual.

The Pope elaborates:

Material destitution is what is normally called poverty, and affects those living in conditions opposed to human dignity: those who lack basic rights and needs such as food, water, hygiene, work and the opportunity to develop and grow culturally.

Moral destitution consists in slavery to vice and sin. Or where people no longer see meaning in life or prospects for the future, a hopelessness triggered by unjust social conditions, by unemployment, and by lack of equal access to education and health care. In such cases, moral destitution can be considered impending suicide.

Spiritual destitution is what we experience when we turn away from God and reject his love. If we think we don’t need God who reaches out to us through Christ, because we believe we can make do on our own, we are headed for a fall. God alone can truly save and free us.

To act against material destitution we begin by recognizing Christ's face in the poor and outcast, and by loving and helping them. We seek to end violations of human dignity, discrimination and abuse.

To help the morally and spiritually destitute, we proclaim the liberating news that forgiveness for sins committed is possible, that God is greater than our sinfulness, that he freely loves us at all times and that we were made for communion and eternal life.

The Lord asks us to be joyous heralds of this message of mercy and hope! It is thrilling to experience the joy of spreading this good news, sharing the treasure entrusted to us, consoling broken hearts and offering hope to our brothers and sisters experiencing darkness. It means following and imitating Jesus, who sought out the poor and sinners as a shepherd lovingly seeks his lost sheep. In union with Jesus, we can courageously open up new paths of evangelization and human promotion.

As Pope Francis goes on to remind us: Lent is a fitting time for self-denial; we would do well to ask ourselves what we can give up in order to help and enrich others by our own poverty. Let us not forget that real poverty hurts: no self-denial is real without this dimension of penance. I distrust a charity that costs nothing and does not hurt.

At the same time, it serves us well to remember that Lent is not about constricting but lengthening, growing in 'this great season of grace'**.

Father Philip Endean writes: Lent is really about is opening ourselves to someone else, about stretching ourselves, so that we can receive the gift of new life coming from God alone.

In order for this to happen, we need to be in touch with what can transform us, what makes us confront new questions, what stretches our commitment and identity. It is that kind of focus that should characterise Lent. Where am I growing? Where are these questions in my life? Where am I being called to something deeper – something which, precisely as such, I cannot get my head round? What is my equivalent of the desert, of Jesus’s temptations? How can I enter into that place fully, freely, generously?

Let us not fall back on facile answers or standard Lenten practices but seek "to be creative, and develop practices that are less conventionally ‘penitential’". Put some real thought and elbow grease into what are worthy penitential practices.

God's divine purpose is for us to grow and never more so than in the season of Lent. Let us not forget we are, ultimately, an Easter people, and that Lent is a time for us "to be open to the one who calls light out of darkness, brings life out of death."

Make this Lent a time of stretching into poverty, Christ's poverty, and be light and salt to those around you.

* http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/pope-francis-lenten-message-2014
** http://www.thinkingfaith.org/articles/20140304_1.htm

Ways of the wise

I have a major flaw. I like to over-analyze situations and people. I can pick an event or person's behaviour to paper thin strips so I tend to be highly critical and judgemental, and therefore not very tolerant or open as a person.

I get uptight and impatient easily when those around me do not behave in a manner I deem appropriate or correct. And I catch myself grousing and whining a lot like a joyless drudge. The world is full of stupid people! Eeeks, so much for being a woman of joy.

So when I read James, chapter 3, verses 13-18 last Monday, it made me stop in my tracks. I pride myself on having a modicum of wisdom that aids me in making decisions and helping others, but am I always wise in a way that is pure, peaceable, gentle, compliant and full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity? Hmmm, I cannot say yes with much conviction.

Saint James goes on to say there must be no bitter jealousy, selfish ambition boastfulness or falseness in wisdom. Otherwise, it is earthly, unspiritual, even demonic. Wisdom of this kind, he states, also gives birth to disorder and every foul practice, and is not from above.

These are indeed strong cautionary words. How often do my eyes turn the palest hint of green and I find myself saying something unkind about someone? Words of criticism and gossip that inflate my ego and are a form of boasting trip over my lips quite effortlessly. Do I always, absolutely, speak the truth, or is it merely my version of the truth?

Based on Saint James's definition of wisdom, one must know when to act and when to hold back; when to speak and what to say, and when to maintain silence. Above all, one speaks and acts with humility and gentleness if one has true wisdom. And yet, it is not advocating doormat-like or people-pleasing behaviour in our dealings with others.

As Mother Teresa put it: Do not expect your friend to be a perfect person but help your friend to become a perfect person. That's true friendship. Mother Teresa is talking about wisdom here. It takes great wisdom to perfect others, seeing as we ourselves are so imperfect. Thus such wisdom can only come from above.

Enter into dialogue that dispenses with the need to be right (check your ego at the door) and a genuine love and interest for the other. Instead of blurting out pearls of advice that may fall on deaf ears, listen with compassion and patience.

People need time and space to be themselves, to be comfortable expressing their own views, before they can, of their own accord, arrive at a conclusion that holds the incontrovertible truth.

Perfection needs time to simmer on the brazier of a faith-seeking understanding. As a friend, I can help by keeping the flame from going out, coaxing it to burn with a slow, sturdy intensity. This requires an assiduous touch and gentle nurturing. I will fall short often, I know, as I have in the past.

Although I may not always have the deftness of true wisdom, I do seek to lead a good life that is packed solid with works pleasing to the Almighty. So God willing, as my friends become more perfect with time, so will I.