living with depression

I have not written on this subject for a little while. In fact, life is okay. I think I am learning to “live with it” rather than fight it. But today I found an image that I think describes what it feels like to me.

I am not much of a “gym-type person”. In fact … let’s not go there! So I was thinking that living with depression, for me, is like living on a “balance-ball”. Depression is not always about being sad – it is not always about feelings. The smallest thing, when the core strength is not there, can upset you and make you fall off. Sometimes life can seem pretty normal. But something insignificant comes along – a comment, a letter, a look – and life is out of balance and I am chasing myself.

Sometimes I am working so hard trying to stay on the ball that I cannot do anything else. I need all my energy simply to stand upright. Sometimes the ball is pretty flat and it is easier to stand – sometimes it is very full and it is hard to get any balance.

It is nice when I have people standing with me who help. It is nice to have people get me back on the ball when I fall off. But in the end, this is my life – even with medication and great counselling. Hopefully I can get some core strength!!!

relationship and affections

I think this is the principal reason why the invisible God willed to be seen in the flesh and to converse with people as a person. He wanted to recapture the affections of carnal humanity who were unable to love in any other way, by first drawing them to the salutary love of his own humanity, and then gradually to raise them to a spiritual love.

St Bernard of Clairvaux

In Michael Casey’s book on Lectio Divina, Sacred Reading, he makes the point that relationships and bonds between persons are emotional in nature. I have never really thought about that but I suspect it is very true. (Yes, very true!) In a modern context, maybe we are tempted to intellectualize relationships into common aims and common beliefs. But what bonds me to you is my feelings for you.

The above from St Bernard reminds me of Kierkegaard’s story of the king who falls in love with his servant. Love should be freely given and not forced. The Incarnation is an invitation to love on “my level”. Jesus does not force love but offers it.

gift of tears

I have not written for some time. I guess one day in lockdown looks very much like the next. That is not bad – just the reality of life.

So I have been thinking about the gift of tears. Yes, a somewhat weird thought. I have cried more in the last six months than the whole of my life combined. Not always spiritual, but sometimes spiritual related.

Here is a quote by Ignatius of Loyola:

As for the third point, that is, inflicting hurt upon the body for our Lord’s sake, I would completely stop any practices that could draw even a drop of blood. And if his Divine Majesty has bestowed grace upon you for this and the rest that I have mentioned (as I am convinced in his divine goodness that he has), I think that for the future (without giving reasons or arguments for it) it would be much better to give all this up and instead of seeking to draw any blood, to seek the Lord of all in a more immediate way; that is to say, his most holy gifts—for example, an infusion or drops of tears, whether (1) at our own or other people’s sins, (2) at the mysteries of Christ our Lord in this life or the next, or (3) at the consideration and love of the divine Persons. These tears have greater value and worth in proportion as the thoughts and considerations prompting them are higher.

Ignatius on Prayer (1548)

Tears are signs of intense emotions. Often uncontrollable. But every tear speaks! And should we not have “intense emotions” towards Jesus? I cry during silly movies, why not during the gospel reading on Sunday? (Ok, I have cried a couple of times during sermons but that was out of frustration.)

So, final question: would you pray for the gift of tears?

Common Worship

This arrived today:

I have been thinking of switching to Common Worship for Morning and Evening Prayer. Also of introducing Prayer During the Day and Prayer at Night (Compline) to my daily cycle of prayer. I have only had a very brief look but I think this book will offer me a fuller office within the modern Anglican tradition. And I can use a weekly, fortnightly, or monthly psalter.

Anyway …

anglican anchorite?!

Sometimes I stumble upon things, without even trying, which makes me think God is at work.

Yesterday I stumbled across Martha Reeves who goes by the “pen-name” of Maggie Ross. Reeves is described as “a vowed Anglican solitary (or anchorite)”. She has written a number of books, not least of which is a two-volume set titled, Silence: A User’s Guide.

But it gets better! She has a blog, Voice in the Wilderness. Yes, an anchorite within the Anglican tradition who is active online. There are a number of YouTube videos of conferences she has given and an article about her life.

And here is a quote to end this post:

The Desert Fathers and Mothers tell us that we are never less alone than when we are in solitude.

anchorites in England

I have been reading Hermits and anchorites in England, 1200-1550 by E.A. Jones. It is a collection of documents with an excellent introduction to each section. I have not read the part on hermits yet but the sections on the anchorite life are filled with amazing insights. I know there are books on continental anchorites, yet there is a part of me that thinks of it as the most English of religious lives.

So I have been thinking about the anchorite rite of enclosure. After some elements inside the church, the anchorite gets to watch their own funeral from their new home. Often their grave was part of their devotional space and they would watch the services inside the church from inside their grave. Death is a reality for the anchorite, as it was, presumably, for everyone in the middle ages.

Not a particularly happy thought for a Sunday afternoon. But the connection between the eucharist, the death of Jesus, and my own death are worth considering. Kierkegaard writes that at the altar (when we receive Communion) we are truly alone. At that moment life and death become one moment. To live for Jesus is to live in that tension between death and life.

Anyway …

vocation?

What I really need is to get clear about what I must do, not what I must know, except insofar as knowledge must precede every act. What matters is to find a purpose, to see what it really is that God wills that I shall do; the crucial thing is to find a truth which is truth for me, to find the idea for which I am willing to live and die.

1 August 1835

I have been thinking a lot about vocation. Do I have one? And if so, what is it? Is it from me or from God? What if I tell people and they laugh?

This morning I thought about one of the earliest pieces that people normally read when they start with Kierkegaard – the journal entry for 1 August 1835. And, in particular, it is the end, “and die”. Is the vocation something I am willing to die for? Or, to put it another way, am I willing to live it for the rest of my life? No matter what the cost. If so, whether the church says it is a vocation, or other people, because less relevant. Yes, God speaks through others! But am I dedicated enough to stick it out to the very end even under opposition.

And then I thought about a quote from a book I have been reading (which I think I have shared before):

And it is in this sense that it has been rightly said that monasticism is a kind of substitute for mar­tyrdom.

I am not sure what a “substitute” means in this context. And I know that various forms of monasticism have sometimes been called “white martyrdom”. So putting it all together I am still as clueless as always!!!

ultimate wager

Life in Religion is the ultimate wager on the existence of God. The Church should always be engaged in doing things that make no sense if God does not exist. This is the reason why I hold the Religious life in the highest esteem. Through the commonality of goods, the life of obedience and above all the commitment to shape life around the Opus Dei (that is, prayer), the monastic life models for all Christians what it means to live fully and abundantly, with and for Christ.”

The Most Rev’d Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury
Foreword to: Anglican Religious Life 2016-17

I have been thinking about the above quote a lot.