Monthly Archives: July 2021

Forgiving Reality

A friend recently shared with me the following story.

He was, some months ago, on a road trip with Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM.  

(Moment of delightful appreciation for what it must be like to make a road trip with the good Friar.)

In a glorious non-sequitur, Fr. Rohr shared one definition of sanctity.  He said: “You know, a saint is someone who has forgiven reality.”

Since hearing this definition, I’ve thought about what this might mean… to “forgive reality.”  

Surely, understanding this definition could take a lifetime, but for me, now, “forgiving reality” means relinquishing my emotional reactivity (anger, judgment, pride, etc) as I confront any reality that appears, in this moment, imperfect or threatening.  (It is my hunch, also, that I am able to do this to the extent that I experience forgiveness myself and trust in the loving kindness of God.)

As I am able to forgive reality, I am able to see more clearly, live more artfully, and respond to reality with love.

Ways to Limit Our Intelligence

If we want to limit our intelligence, the following list is a good place to start:

1) Love being right.

2) Be addicted to the moral high ground. 

3) Restrict your sources of knowledge.

4) Relate only with people who are like you.

5) Relate only with people who agree with you.

Let’s acknowledge that intelligence can be a communal virtue, and work diligently to cultivate it.

Rest and Haircuts

I love getting a haircut, and I think it is mainly because, for those fifteen minutes, it is my job to do nothing. There is zero pressure to accomplish anything. There is no real way to use my smartphone. I can just breathe and enjoy the experience.

And, really, releasing my mind from all tasks for a chunk of time may be the best thing I do all day for my imagination, and so my productivity.

Put another way: Imagination without rest is not possible, and skill without imagination is barren.

Saaka and Dandora

The novitiate for the Congregation of Holy Cross in East Africa is located at Lake Saaka, a crater lake hidden by the rolling hills of rural Western Uganda.  It is impossibly temperate and beautiful.  Here, the men in formation will work, pray, and study for a year before taking first vows.

And, for many years, their next stop in formation was Dandora, a slum of Nairobi, Kenya.  In Dandora, one hundred thousand people struggle to survive on four bleak square kilometers that border Nairobi’s largest dump.  Depending on which way the wind is blowing, the air smells either strongly or faintly of burning garbage.  Save for the sunrise and sunset, there is no natural beauty.  Here, the religious who took vows at Lake Saaka, would continue their formation with pastoral work and theology studies.  

Both Saaka and Dandora are places of sincere intensity.  At Saaka, it is the intensity of witnessing the growth of one’s own inner life in a wildly abundant experience of God’s creation. In Dandora, it is the intensity of witnessing the visceral resilience, strength, and prayer of God’s people.

I have thought about these extremes for some time.  They certainly defy clean interpretation.  What remains clear to me, though, is that I have known religious of the Holy Cross who, because they have lived in both intensities, carry a profound capacity to witness to the unrelenting and merciful love of God.

Kennen Lernen

In German, the way to say “to meet” (as in, “good to meet you”) is actually a composite of two verbs: kennen lernen.  Kennen means “to know” and lernen means “to learn.”

Fascinating, right?  Truly meeting someone does, in fact, demand attentive receptivity so that we can learn how to know the person.

I do not know if this interpretation is implied by its etymology, but it is still a worthy reminder.

We have the opportunity to learn to know those around us every day, even those that we met, for the first time, long ago.

Enough

Managing a family’s financial future is a lifelong balance with a great many variables.

One central variable, that affects many others, is the variable of “enough.” At any given point in our lives, can I say if we have “enough?” Enough money. Enough living space. Enough stuff.

It is tricky to solve for “enough,” but it is worth the mental energy because when our answer for “enough” becomes clearer, so does our capacity to be generous.

Memento Senectus

Memento mori, latin for “remember your death,” is a powerful spiritual practice.  When we recall that we are finite, we are freed to live with singular purpose and focus on the most important things.

Relatedly, I wonder what happens when we consider memento senectus, “remember your old age?”

God willing, we will reach old age and, during that time, our bodies and minds will probably work less well and the context of our days will have changed considerably.  

When we consider this reality, what effect does it have on how we want to live today?

What Confers Status?

Here is a question that gets right to the heart of a community’s culture: Within this community, what confers status?  

Put another way: You see those people at the top of the heap?  Why do we have a collective understanding that those people are at the top?  

I’ve been part of communities that have conferred status based on the following:

-Seniority

-Generosity and consistency

-Conspicuous performance of ideological purity

-Looking like other people regarded as high status

-Level of contribution

-Articulate confidence

-Athleticism

-Professional excellence

Getting clear on what confers status in a community helps us understand how it runs.  That is a huge step toward understanding the culture and, therefore, gaining perspective on how you can help it to grow.

Sonder

Have you heard of the word sonder, meaning the experience of realizing that all other people have an interior life as rich and complex as one’s own?

Fascinatingly, it was coined in the past ten years, in an effort to name emotional experiences that currently lack a proper word in English.

Both the experience of sonder, as well as the effort to name complex emotions that lack easy articulation, functions to build our capacity for humility and insight, resulting in more compassionate communities.