Monday morsel: "stability is brave" (from Micha Boyett)

 

I've just finished reading Micha Boyett's memoir Found:  A Story of Questions, Grace, and Everyday Prayer.  

I started reading Micha's former blog, Mama:Monk, a few years ago and loved how her writing blended life as a mom of two small boys with reflections on prayer and spiritual disciplines.  Found explores how Micha struggled with whether she was doing enough for God as a mother, and how she slowly came to terms with her calling and learned to experience joy -- hers, and God's -- in her ordinary here-and-now life.  In this section, Micha reflects on the Benedictine vow of stability:

The Benedictines take three vows when they offer themselves to the monastic life:  obedience (to the rule and to the abbot, or leader, of their monastery), conversatio moralis, sometimes understood as "conversion of life," and stability.  Every instruction in Benedict's Rule flows out of these three commitments.

That vow to stability is the thing that sets Benedictines apart from every other monastic order, something I didn't know when I first began to study Benedict's Rule.  It's a concept that feels countercultural.  After all, I am from a generation that values change above all else:  technology and careers should always be evolving.  We transform in order to remain necessary.  If we don't change, we're left behind.

When a monk makes a vow to stability, he is not committing to a general spiritual concept; he is vowing to remain in a single place, with a single group of people, for an entire lifetime.  The monastery is his lifelong home, the monks and nuns his family.  For better or worse.

Maybe St. Benedict chose stability in response to his own choices.  After all, his story starts with a teenage boy leaving everything to follow Jesus.  Changing his home and his lifestyle and his future for the sake of his God.  Did those three years in the cave at Subiaco teach him to grow weary of the human desire to find something more interesting, more challenging, or more demanding?

Leaving often masquerades as the more courageous choice.  But in reality it's often easier to leave a relationship than to pursue it despite the difficulty.  Stability demands forgiveness, discomfort and, often, a sacrifice of the more interesting, more exciting possibility.  Stability is brave.

"Big Box, Store" -- on asking for help

A few weeks ago was Richard's 50th birthday.  After wracking my brain for a long time about what to get him ("A book again?"  "Running gear again?"), I decided to go looking for a special Dad-type patio chair.  I found the perfect one on sale at Canadian Tire:  it had a canopy and a sliding pillow and everything.

However, the box was bigger than I expected, and unwieldy.  I knew I couldn't carry it to the checkout, so I went and got a cart.  Then I managed to lift the box and maneuver it sorta-kinda into the cart; then I made my way to the checkout with one hand on the cart handle and one hand steadying the box.

The cashier asked, "Do you need any help taking that out?"

"Oh, no, I'll be fine," I said.

I wheeled the cart out to the car, opened the trunk, put the back seats down flat, and moved my groceries (which I'd already bought before going to Canadian Tire) out of the way.

As I was doing this, I saw a guy sitting in a truck not far away.  He was watching me, and I was pretty sure that he was wondering if I needed any help and was ready to offer it if I did.

But I didn't.  I got the box out of the cart and into the car without much difficulty. 

So ... let me recap.  I wanted a patio chair.  I found the perfect chair on sale.  I thought I might not be able to get it out to the car or into the car myself, but I did.  Richard really likes it. 

As plots go, even I have to admit this story is boring.

But afterward I got thinking about why I didn't ask for help at any stage along the way.  It was a really awkward box.  Why didn't I go and look for someone to help me right away when I found the chair I wanted?  Why didn't I accept the cashier's offer of assistance to get the box to the car?  Why was I so determined not to look like an inept damsel-in-distress in front of what was probably a very nice man who would have been happy to help me out?

Possible answers?
- Self-sufficiency:  "I don't need anyone; I can do it."
- Pride:  "Look at me!  I did it all by myself."
- Determination:  "I will get this box into the car if it's the last thing I do."
- Desire to avoid being a bother (a.k.a. false humility):  "Other people might need help more than I do at this moment; I'll just struggle away on my own, don't worry about me."

I'm not exactly sure which motive was in play at that moment -- but the reality is that if the box had been five pounds heavier and six inches thicker, I would have asked for help without feeling any of those things.  So really it was a judgment call, and I was fortunate enough to judge correctly:  I thought I could probably do it without help, and it worked out fine this time.  In other circumstances I might judge differently.

I guess the problem is when we assume we don't need help when it is painfully obvious to others around us that we do.  Then failing to ask for help, or refusing it when it's offered, can be a really bad sign.

We used to sing this song at church called "The Servant Song," whose first verse goes like this:

Won't you let me be your servant?

Let me be as Christ to you.

Pray that I might have the grace

To let you be my servant, too.

What an interesting idea:  that accepting help and service from others is an act of grace.  I should remember that -- not necessarily the next time I purchase a piece of patio furniture, but the next time I find myself struggling with something, either a practical need or a personal issue.  Instead of assuming I can handle it, maybe I should consider asking someone for help, thus showing grace to myself and to them.

Monday morsel: patience

I read this quotation on writer Michelle Van Loon's Twitter feed last week, and I've been pondering it ever since:

Patience with others is Love, 

Patience with self is Hope, 

Patience with God is Faith. 

– Adel Bestavros

Monday morsel: "in the end"

"Everything will be all right in the end.

If it's not all right ... then it's not yet the end."

 - from the movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Twitterature: "May" I tell you what I've been reading?

Once again I'm linking up with Modern Mrs. Darcy's monthly "Twitterature" post, in which we give short reviews of what we've been reading.  (Yes, I know, they're "supposed" to be Twitteresque/ish in length but I can never keep to that!)  Here are the books I've read since last time:

Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner.  (I first heard about this novel on Modern Mrs. Darcy's blog, as she rated it one of the best books she'd read last year.)  It traces the friendship of two couples from the 1930's to the 1970's.  I was bothered by one oddity:  while both couples have children, they live as if they have none (they could have been childless and the plot would remain essentially unchanged).  But otherwise it's a beautifully written book about relationships that relies on small scenes and conversations -- the things most lives are made of -- rather than big dramatic events.

Why We Write:  20 Acclaimed Authors On Why They Do What They Do by Meredith Maran (ed.).  This interesting and inspiring book contains interviews with 20 writers (including Jodi Picoult, Ann Patchett, James Frey, and Mary Karr) about their writing goals, techniques, successes, and failures. 

A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer.  This book explores why so many of us live divided lives, hiding our true selves and souls from others.  Palmer suggests that one solution involves creating "circles of trust": intentional communities that provide opportunity for the soul to find freedom and for participants to access and listen to their own inner truth.

The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion.  Don Tillman, an oddball genetics professor (who probably has Asperger Syndrome), has trouble with relationships, so he takes on the Wife Project to help him find a partner.  While conducting his research he meets Rosie, a grad student, who is on her own quest and upsets his structured and systematic life.  This is a wonderful novel whose strongest point is its unusual, lovable main character.  I like quirky novels, but they really only work for me if they feature a compelling character who makes me care (Jessica Grant's Come, Thou Tortoise did; Maria Semple's Where'd You Go, Bernadette didn't, so I found it funny but forgettable).  With The Rosie Project, I quickly came to like Don and appreciate his earnest desire to do what's right and fit into a world which, in many ways, makes no sense to him.  Here's one quote, to whet your appetite (Don's friend Claudia is trying to set him up with a woman named Elizabeth):

"Claudia had introduced me to one of her many friends.  Elizabeth was a highly intelligent computer scientist, with a vision problem that had been corrected with glasses.  I mention the glasses because Claudia showed me a photograph, and asked me if I was okay with them.  An incredible question!  From a psychologist!  In evaluating Elizabeth's suitability as a potential partner--someone to provide intellectual stimulation, to share activities with, perhaps even to breed with--Claudia's first concern was my reaction to her choice of glasses frames, which was probably not even her own but the result of advice from an optometrist.  This is the world I have to live in."

I know you'll love this book -- even if, as Don would say, that opinion is not "evidence-based"....

What have you been reading lately?