Here's my first attempt at blogging.... it's only available to you girls. I'm not interested in getting hundreds of followers, or being searchable via Google, just in sharing my thoughts (and occasionally other folks') with you. Eventually the (hopefully not-too-long-and-sad) saga of house remodeling will go here, but for now, and for practice, I'm sending you something I found on Facebook that made a lot of sense to me, and maybe will to you too. It was linked on Fr. James Martin's FB page and I've copied the original in toto:
https://www.facebook.com/FrJamesMartinMonday, 26 August 2013
Back into the Fold
by Edmund Lo, S.J.
As I have mentioned in a previous article, [sorry, I can't find it, but here's the site where he often writes: http://www.ibosj.ca/search/label/Edmund%20Lo] prayerfully examining what brings us closer to or farther away from God through the examination of consciousness (or the Examen prayer) can reveal many things about our lives. While it makes lots of sense on a theoretical level, it makes even more sense when one practices it regularly. I can attest to that.
Like many others, I prefer to have some down time to relax a bit before going to bed. A few months ago, I noticed an emerging pattern as I was doing the Examen prayer one evening. I realized that my down time activities had made me feel numb, and I was not edified by them afterwards. These were rather harmless activities: just watching funny videos. They were entertaining, but why would I have feelings of numbness and emptiness afterwards?
This was similar to St. Ignatius' own experience as he was recovering from his broken leg: he would initially found much delight in worldly thoughts such as doing knightly deeds for a noble lady, but these thoughts made him dry and unhappy afterwards. These thoughts were perfectly harmless and innocent, but they were not life-giving to him. When Ignatius reflected upon heroic deeds performed by saints, these thoughts not only delighted him, but they gave him lasting happiness and joy. This was how he began to understand the concept of spiritual desolation and consolation: desolation as whatever draws you away from God, and consolation as whatever draws you closer to God.
In other words, that much was clear: I needed to engage in some activities or practices that bring me consolation rather than desolation. This was easier said than done, and I had to experiment with different things until I found the right one. It was making origami, the art of creating things out of paper-folding. It worked, and continues to work for me because of several reasons:
Peace: I find that making origami calms me down, allowing me to enter into a steady and prayerful rhythm. This is not the over-stimulation of my senses, but rather a re-focusing thereof.
Tangibility: I am using my hands to physically create something, and it brings me a kind of quiet delight. The finished product certainly gives me joy, to see that a piece of paper can turn into an origami narwhal after some manipulation. The process is also plays a large role in this, as I can see my origami creation “develop” fold by fold.
Creation as gift: When I make origami, I tend not to make them for myself. I prefer to make something as a gift for someone. This can range from animals for children, flowers for gracious host and hostess, or things with symbolic meanings such as giraffes– a creature that sees far and has a big heart. I suppose it is a poor-man's version of making incarnate one's love.
Some have told me that they simply do not have the patience to sit there and labour through difficult origami designs. I can empathize with that: I once threw a half-done origami giraffe half way across my office in utter frustration, as I had spent over ten minutes on a particularly difficult step without getting anywhere. That being said, patience and perseverance can be developed.
In all fairness, I am not trying to begin a “Origami for Everyone” movement; what works for me may not work for you. My invitation to you is this: to reflect on your lives to identify what activities bring you consolation or desolation. If it weighs you down and draws you away from God in a sneaky manner, change up your habits. Look for edifying ones that give you life and bring you closer to God. Sometimes it can be pious practices such as praying the Liturgy of the Hours; other times, it can be folding a piece of paper. The important thing is to find something that works for you.
Labels: Edmund Lo, Examen, giraffe, Origami Posted at 13:15:00
The entire 2nd paragraph and this phrase really struck me: "I needed to engage in some activities or practices that bring me consolation rather than desolation." The Ignatian concept of consolation/desolation is often misunderstood as joy/sadness or hope/despair or success/failure. But it isn't really that simple. A moment of intense grief or worry can bring you closer to God...that makes it a consolation.
I'm reminded of an incident at a September Kairos retreat (last year? 2-3 years ago? how soon the mind melts one year into another!) One of the most powerful moments, in my opinion, involves the student-parent relationship. Both my sons experienced Kairos while at SI, and this part has always impacted me emotionally, as it does many of the students--usually in a positive way: a realization of the love and support of their parents, and they are emotional and speak from the heart. But one poor girl was shaking in her anger and sorrow...desolation if I ever saw it. Needless to say, the reaction time was swiftly brought to an end, with prayer, so the directors could help her deal with her emotions. Later that night, as the student group leaders met to debrief the day (it's always a question like "Where did you see the Holy Spirit acting today?") nearly all the leaders--they themselves are just seniors who have already made the retreat and now are giving the talks and leading the group discussions-- were fixated on that one girl's reaction; they all spoke of it as a desolation. Their pain was visceral. They looked like poor sad deflated balloons. Going last, with tears in my eyes (as usual) I offered my opinion that anger and grief and worry can bring one closer to God. As if God was all that girl had left to turn to... God and His love and our love for her. I suggested that the Holy Spirit was powerfully present to us tonight in allowing that girl to speak truthfully and in opening us up to loving and supporting her--and being grateful for the experiences of love in our own lives. Against all their expectations, I called that night a "Consolation". (I'm tearing up even now, remembering, and cn't see the keybord)
Well, gals, Fr. Lo's words, and the recollection it produced, and the fact that it's September again brings it all full circle. For the first time in many, many years, I will not be facilitating this month's Kairos, although I will be writing my "cookies" (that's what we call our prayer notes) to my former students, and to the teachers taking my place. I will miss that part of my career: the opportunity, no, even invitation, to be open to the needs of kids, some of whom have very great needs indeed. I won't miss the hectic pre-retreat prep of classes, nor the mountains of work to check or grade following my 4-day absence from school. What I WILL do is take those days (Sept. 24-27) to make my own examen, to discover what brings me closer to God, and what keeps me holding God at a distance.
So, Fr. Lo invites us: "to reflect on your lives to identify what activities bring you consolation or desolation.
If it weighs you down and draws you away from God in a sneaky manner, change up your habits. Look for edifying ones that give you life and bring you closer to God."
I invite you to do the same ( God invites, never commands) and especially to remember my students in prayer during those days, as I will remember them, and you.
