Moved into new home. All is good. It truly is a home, manly, a good change. Dinner with Carter, his future son-in-law and female acquaintance. Everyone contributes. A gourmet grocery store just a half block away allows me to supply fresh baked bread, potato salad, pickled beets, and manchego cheese. A slow cooked pork roast centers the meal. Pleasant adult conversation, comfortable at the onset. I like the neighborhood: hip urban, cultured, intellectual, and artsy, considering poetry and prose reading—not sure, a reduction of identity through an intensified prayer life demands that the contemplative life remains forefront. Everything points toward my religious life or abandonment is the case. Things pursued dictate detachment. I know I want to start painting, watercolors–capturing an image of Mary that lingers; whispering blue, shadowy, indistinct and melding, a hand extending—toying with colors and white backdrop. I feel it is important to distinguish the attribute regarding boarding with Carter that contentedly fits perfect. Complacent distance the knowledgeable identification. We share similar profound interests: Christianity, recovery, literature, coffee, and sports, yet we speak sparingly. The lack of words appropriate, mature. A prayer before dinner, a mentioning of catering Father Sam’s eighty-third birthday party tomorrow; nothing distinct, nor too much detail. Dinner conversation is light-hearted, friendly and unassuming. We eat on the porch, neighbors near enjoying the warm weather, sidewalk strollers sauntering by. Carter is a reserved man, obviously intelligent, handsome to a striking degree. I teased him when I saw a photo of him when he was in his twenties, poking at him how good looking he was. He chuckles, proud, not falsely humble, receiving a compliment, while simply humble—overall serious, trying to figure out my sense of humor. His future son-in-law is an energetic young man who seems excited about me sharing the home. A school teacher, he is knowledgeable regarding jazz music, all types of music. He genuinely possesses a zest for life. The female acquaintance, a respectful intimate of Carter’s, a registered nurse, fortifies the overall erudite ambiance. The environment suits splendidly. I cautiously reduce my AA interaction based upon a weariness with too much talking, too much sharing, and too many people willing to throw themselves, as master or salve, onto others. Socially, I know, for myself, AA is limited. Avoiding rebellion or the forcing of matters, AA can never be more than a means, within a greater whole, to sobriety. Nothing more, never a way of life. Accepting things through proper identification is important for healthy psychological growth, and therefore contemplative growth. Things are what they are, acceptance and working within order is the demand. Tomorrow a cookout with my basketball friends at one of the gentlemen’s ranch, horses and good company. That is proper socializing, again within a greater whole. I know the AA message. I embrace the message, grateful for its ability to assist. I move forward with confidence, able to properly discern, willing to become the man God envisions. The Holy Spirit has become such a central focus, an intimate furthering of my prayer life. Easter season moves forward. The Assumption of Christ into heaven, seated at the right hand of the Father, the Paraclete left behind–kindles. The Church guided by Mary: mothers, comforts, and shelters. The Trinity is good, loving, and providing. I am tired.
Virtues are formed by prayer. Prayer preserves temperance. Prayer suppresses anger. Prayer prevents emotions of pride and envy. Prayer draws into the soul the Holy Spirit, and raises man to Heaven. — St. Ephraim
Clipping T.S. Eliot’s ‘Four Quartets’, pondering images and thoughts reflecting the Holy Spirit.
The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre-
To be redeemed from fire by fire.
Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire
