This is day four of a six day series expressing my time, day by day, spent in silent retreat at Abbey of Gesthemani, December 10-17.
A critical step on our journey, and one we’ll take over and over, is to let ourselves experience spiritual hunger long enough and deep enough to follow it to its source.
Elizabeth Lesser
One year ago today-the today that I am standing here taking this photo in retreat at his abbey, this man died. 
I know it’s nothing, everyone dies some day, but I’m counting it a bit disquieting to discover that just among this one section of buried monks here at Gesthemani, three have death anniversaries during the week I am here.
I have visited them each, each day, and paid tribute I guess you could call it, on their death day. Is there cake for death day? Is there a celebration we have not taken up for this equally esteem-able day as that of birthday?
I think there should be. I would insist on devil’s food.
I like it best mind you, but the irony occurs to me only as I type that now.
I’ve had the devil on my mind-well actually-on my window sill, the past few days. He hangs out like an imp-a full grown annoying man-imp-that is, and badgers me. He’s not scary; at first I told myself I should be frightened and all, but then I thought ‘who says….?’ I mean, he wasn’t scary looking, and didn’t breath fire or anything, and quite frankly was decent company.
He just got rather annoying. And prodded in just that particular way that threw tumult around why I was trying to be here and not prod (myself).
He was doing his job well, in other words….
Somewhere in the conversation with self as devil sat there-I need to give him a name; devil is so derogatory and specific after all; his title, but not his character.
I call him Rat. That’s a nickname of course, but appropriate. He kind of has a rat-like sense about him, and certainly likes to poke in and chew where he’s not welcome.
So Rat sat there while I was having a lovely conversation with myself, and I concluded that the lack of fear was not simply due to his un-fear-y look, but due to his nature. He was not like any devil I’ve been told to watch out for. It dawned on me like a ray of sunshine (like that imagery around the devil?!) that in truth Rat was a hard working-if not a bit challenging-employee of the force ;).
I have visited them each, each day, and paid tribute I guess you could call it, on their death day. Is there cake for death day? Is there a celebration we have not taken up for this equally esteem-able day as that of birthday?
I think there should be. I would insist on devil’s food.
I like it best mind you, but the irony occurs to me only as I type that now.
I’ve had the devil on my mind-well actually-on my window sill, the past few days. He hangs out like an imp-a full grown annoying man-imp-that is, and badgers me. He’s not scary; at first I told myself I should be frightened and all, but then I thought ‘who says….?’ I mean, he wasn’t scary looking, and didn’t breath fire or anything, and quite frankly was decent company.
He just got rather annoying. And prodded in just that particular way that threw tumult around why I was trying to be here and not prod (myself).
He was doing his job well, in other words….
Somewhere in the conversation with self as devil sat there-I need to give him a name; devil is so derogatory and specific after all; his title, but not his character.
I call him Rat. That’s a nickname of course, but appropriate. He kind of has a rat-like sense about him, and certainly likes to poke in and chew where he’s not welcome.
So Rat sat there while I was having a lovely conversation with myself, and I concluded that the lack of fear was not simply due to his un-fear-y look, but due to his nature. He was not like any devil I’ve been told to watch out for. It dawned on me like a ray of sunshine (like that imagery around the devil?!) that in truth Rat was a hard working-if not a bit challenging-employee of the force ;).
He was in service to the Higher Good.
He was here to annoy me, on assignment.
So much for fearing fire and brim stone; we need to be suspect of hard working annoying-nesses that keep prodding….
Rat’s prodding was challenging me to grow some horns and bully the work put before me. In this case, sit still and listen; be quiet for a week. As I struggled with this day and what it was I was doing in it, and questioning if maybe I should cut this week short and call it good, Rat-with his smirking grin and languid air-showed up on the sill there: He came to annoy me on purpose.
So much for fearing fire and brim stone; we need to be suspect of hard working annoying-nesses that keep prodding….
Rat’s prodding was challenging me to grow some horns and bully the work put before me. In this case, sit still and listen; be quiet for a week. As I struggled with this day and what it was I was doing in it, and questioning if maybe I should cut this week short and call it good, Rat-with his smirking grin and languid air-showed up on the sill there: He came to annoy me on purpose.
To challenge me back to my best intention.
To anger me enough to make my stubborn self stand up and stay put.
He did his job well. I got so annoyed that I told him off.
As he smiled a satisfied smile, and whisked his way out the window, it occurred to me he’d just won, and yet there was no loser. He had galled me, which caused me to get fierce, which made me declare my driving intention, and ground in my heels.
He set me back on course.
How annoying is that…
So much for compassionate ways here at Gesthemani. They send in the top guns~
I think I’ve been visited by the most counter-churched, best way to get closer to God.
He did his job well. I got so annoyed that I told him off.
As he smiled a satisfied smile, and whisked his way out the window, it occurred to me he’d just won, and yet there was no loser. He had galled me, which caused me to get fierce, which made me declare my driving intention, and ground in my heels.
He set me back on course.
How annoying is that…
So much for compassionate ways here at Gesthemani. They send in the top guns~
I think I’ve been visited by the most counter-churched, best way to get closer to God.
And I don’t mind it a bit. In fact I am quite thankful. I’ll take this Rat anytime.
in love
trish