Simplicity

Scene from the movie,
Vision – Aus dem Leben der Hildegard von Bingen (2010),
about the life of St. Hildegard





 My aunt sent me an email today about simplicity. The words are those of a benedictine sister from the community of St. Rita in Arizona. I was touched by them, especially in the midst of the Christmas season which is so full of busy-ness. Although not all of us are called to the monastic life, I think there's a lot we can learn from our brothers and sisters who live inside the enclosures of these houses of prayer. Likely, the following excerpt will present different ways to different readers of how to introduce simplicity into daily life. For myself, right now, it means being faithful to all the things God has given me to do in a particular day and being discerning about adding other stuff to that list. I think it also means being simple in thought and prayer in the sense of coming to God like a little child and making my requests with the confidence of a little one. One of these days when I have time to de-clutter, it might also mean that! Here is the passage:



“We have less of many things than is customary in our culture. No TV beyond an occasional feast-day film. We don’t call our best friend at the end of a trying day to complain about the boss. We don’t plough through acres of email or go to the mall for a new outfit to enhance the new me. No career ladder to climb. We left behind the cell phone, check-book, credit cards, frequent flyer miles, book clubs, students or colleagues or buddies in the carpool, wardrobe, boyfriends, and a few other items of interest. We left behind a culture that offers dozens of ways of making us feel important. When this issue arose, the disciples asked Jesus, “What then shall we have?” Leaving aside for the moment the ultimate recompense of the Kingdom of God, we are offered the gift of simplicity.”

SIMPLICITY of form and space.



Our chapel is serenely plain, our monastic spaces are well-designed and free of clutter. We revel in an environment suited to an uncluttered life.

SIMPLICITY of heart.

We surrender affectation of manner and the need to impress.

SIMPLICITY of desire.



We seek to set our longings toward God in the face of his Christ. Simplicity can translate into listening, into attentiveness.We listen to the Word of God in liturgy, and in quiet prayer. We absorb the times and seasons of the days and years, letting ourselves be taught by the wisdom of the natural world. We hear the clamour in our own hearts, asking the primordial questions pressing for new and personal answers. We search for the needs of Christ in the needs of our sisters and those of the world."

Surprises

Do you ever have those moments when you see something and you wish you had a camera to capture the moment because you're fairly certain you'll never see that sight again? I had just such a moment this morning and I'm still kicking myself that I didn't have a digital camera on hand (note to self: it's time to invest in a digital camera!). The next best thing was to do an image search for icicles and sunlight. The picture on your right is as close a reproduction of the awesome sight I witnessed this morning, but you have to imagine an entire street as far as the eye could see on either side sparkling intensely like that.

It was one of those divine surprises through nature: a little burst of joy! When I left home earlier this morning, the day was grey, chilly, morose...I headed out with my head partially tucked into my scalf and my eyes on the ground watching for black ice patches. I'd just spent about five minutes fruitlessly scraping at my car. I realized, eventually, that there was no way I could get it road-ready and be able to make it to Mass on time. So, I'd set out on foot instead. I was going briskly and was pleased to find that, although the sidewalks looked a little messy, they weren't too slippery. That made my way easier. However, when one of the parishoners and his family stopped to give me a lift, I took it gladly. My bones haven't quite acclimatized to the cooler weather yet and I find myself diving into warm spaces without too much prompting. By February, I'll be walking around fearlessly like any natural-born Canadian, but this is only November, after all!

Anyway, the hint of a surprise on the offing started as I sat in the church and suddenly realized that there was an unexpected shaft of light coming in through one window. The occasional ping of melting ice outside the window was also promising. By the time I emerged forty-five minutes later, there was a great expanse of unlimited blue ceiling with a few stray whisps of white cloud trailing along. Behind me was an ominous grey mass of cloud trying to looking imposing, but utterly failing next to the sheer blue beauty whose proportions roughly rivalled that of a small ocean. And then, the sun came out!

Within instants, the bright blue sky became a prelude to glory. Every bit of ice on tree, ground, hedge and shingle became a prism. As if the earth had suddenly caught a glimpse of its own magnificence, it sighed, and all the trees started gently swaying in the breeze and the sound was as if a million party-goers had lifted their forks and started tapping on the rims of their crystal glasses. The breeze had also stirred up some of the snow, so there were particles of light dancing in the air and settling on my face. It was one of the most delightful experiences of the snow so far. Funny how I forget, every year, how wonderful the ice and snow is. I've been dreading it this year because I enjoyed being outdoors so much over the past few months, but after seeing what I saw today, I'm finally eager to see the landscape draped in white again. I won't go so far as to say I'm eager for the slick sidewalks, but it is good to be reminded that even ice---when suspended on a tree---is a thing of gratuitous beauty.

And speaking of surprises: I know I've already passed this on to most people on my mailing list, but in case you haven't seen it yet, you've got to watch how a food court full of unsuspecting shoppers at the Seaway Mall in Welland, Ontario, were transported out of their ordinary lives last week by a group of ingenious singers. (Thank you, Rebecca and Mrs. Walker for passing this along). It is definitely one of the coolest things I've seen in a while! Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE

Jaunting and Rambling

As I sit down to write my very first blog post, I can't help but wonder who else, but me, would care to read about my jauntings and ramblings? I'm completely new to the world of blogging. I've never really been the kind of person who cared what was going on in other peoples' lives---at least not to the extent that I would want to follow their musings each day via a social networking tool. I care about one-on-one exchanges, individual lives, that sort of thing....Here, on cyberspace, I am about to become exposed to the world....A world, frankly, which has so much else to do than care that Heather is currently very excited about starting up an online tutorial service, or that I've been asked to make a double baby-shower cake for next week, or that I'm finally making headway on C.S. Lewis' Space Trilogy, or that I just graduated from Teacher's College....

And yet, the need to write about it all---these little pieces which make up a, wholly, insignificant (or, I should say, simple) life---is irresistable. I have my former writing partner, Tamara, to thank for encouraging me to do this. Tamara said that every writer needs a blogspot. I was shocked, amused, horrified....What? Another thing I "have" to do! But I have all this time on my hands at the moment, so I wrote down "start a blog" on my Spring-Summer To-Do List and so here I am about to embark on detailing my jaunts and rambles. Will anyone else care to know? Probably not...At least not companies in droves. I suspect my family and a few friends may, out of kindness, take a peek---because those are the kinds of people God has seen fit to bless me with: the kind who care about what I'm doing (and Heaven knows, I've always got something up my sleeve!). I suspect I will enjoy reading back on these notes every now and then as a way to recollect where I have been, what I have come to, and what things fascinated me at any given time. Basically, this is a dream-blog, meaning that I wish to write here about all the things that make me insanely glad to be human and alive!

My friend, Cathy, and I were talking it over in the Gatineau Hills some weeks ago. We were musing about the need for good news, about the way we both felt we needed to familiarize ourselves with what's going on "out there" but at the same time feeling deflated in the attempt. Right now, if I were to turn the t.v. on or thumb through a newspaper, I would find something about the oil spills, about a suicide bomber, about some murder, about the rising tide of abortions and same sex-marriage legislation....But what about all the glorious stuff! You know! The fact that it's Springtime and rainy outside. The fact that nothing cures any ailment better than a cup of tea (preferably enjoyed by the pot-ful from little cups that require you to stick up your pinky to enjoy it). The fact that, last weekend, a deacon and his wife traversed our home and blessed it and that we crowned Jesus "King of our Home." The fact that I'm learning, for the first time, about the wonders of Classical Education (how on earth did I ever get to be 30 without exploring this approach to education?). The fact that out of my tiny brain is growing this amazing novel which, although it has far to go to be worth reading by anyone but me, is becoming something beautiful by diligent work. The fact that a woman I don't know took the time to write to me this morning (a very lengthy email) in response to my query about starting a tutorial service. The fact that my friends, Rebecca and Renata, joined me on Monday to inaugurate our encyclical study on Pope Benedict's letter, Deus Caritas Est. The fact that my brother---who is a paragon of health---is doing such an amazing job leading a bootcamp and I've had the pleasure of being part of it....Oh, the list goes ever on and on....

So, these are the things I'm going to write about, as much for my own sanity as for anyone else's. This is to be a sort of catalogue of wondrous things: the big and the small. Too often to do we go about completely unaware of the things which daily brush up against our lives, which enrich and enliven us. This year, for me, has been (and continues to be) all about clarification, clarity, illumination....light flooding in. Knowing. Seeing things as they are. Seeing with God's eyes. I suspect reflecting on the things which make my heart luminous will help shed a bit more light on my own path. Maybe on yours too?