I was made aware of a fundamental error in my postings. I have been spelling my therapist/spiritual director’s name wrong. The proper spelling is Dr. Nichta. Improper spelling is Dr Nitcha. It makes sense once proper pronunciation is respected. The ‘ta ending receives emphasis: Nich-TA.
O God, who in this wonderful Sacrament have left us a memorial of your Passion, grant us, we pray, so to revere the sacred mysteries of your Body and Blood that we may always experience in ourselves the fruits of your redemption. Who live and reign with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
May the Lord bless us, protect us from all evil and bring us to everlasting life. Amen.
Three mysteries of the Rosary for the conversion of the world at five in the morning at Tilma is a refreshing way once a month to invigorate the spirit. A Mary statue recovered and renovated, recalling glory days as the Highway Mary of Cleveland, a devotional prayed to in post-WWII days before traveling the highways in automobiles, a nation hitting its strongest stride. Prayer groups allow the losing of one’s self amidst others of faith, the sharing of infusion. Dropping one’s defenses, desires, demands and delusions in the vulnerability of the moment before the most holiest of mothers is a sacred way, unification being embraced. Nothing more needs to be said. The quieting of the soul, allowing God to fill, can truly only be accomplished through prayer. A poem, fifteenth century Middle English lyrics, praising Mary and her Divine Son.
I Sing of a Maiden
I sing of a maiden
That is matchless,
King of all kings
For her son she chose.
He came as still
Where his mother was
As dew in April
That falls on the grass.
He came as still
To his mother’s bower
As dew in April
That falls on the flower
He came as still
Where his mother lay
As dew in April
That falls on the spray.
Mother and maiden
There was never, ever one but she;
Well may such a lady
God’s mother be.
An outright dedication, this post is for Lauren.
Waiting for a Superman
Lyrics By Iron and Wine
I asked you a question and I didn’t need you to reply
Is it getting heavy?
But then I realize, is it getting heavy
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be
Is it overwhelming to use a crane to crush a fly?
It’s a good time for Superman to lift the sun into the sky
‘Cause it’s getting heavy
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be
Tell everybody waiting for Superman
That they should try to hold on the best they can
He hasn’t dropped them, forgot them or anything
It’s just too heavy for a Superman to lift
Is it getting heavy?
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be
Tell everybody waiting for Superman
That they should try to hold on the best they can
He hasn’t dropped them, forgot them or anything
It’s just too heavy for a Superman to lift
Before trivializing the lyrics see them in the light of Friedrich Nietzsche’s philosophy on the Overman or Superman. We live in a world of aspiring, faltering, Supermen and Superwomen. Individuals that believe they can do everything for themselves; taking themselves, their passions, pleasures, identities, and thoughts with the upmost seriousness. Those of faith trying to take everything upon themselves, or thinking another can relieve the onus of life. A contemplative living a life lacking prayer, forcing everything through sheer determined self-will. The gentle soft touch of Iron and Wine, Sam Beam, imploring that really Superman hasn’t failed, it’s just too damn heavy to lift is really quite profound, beautiful when so finely sung. My son just text me informing me he thinks someone else wrote the song. LOL, a reminder sometimes being wrong is more spiritually advantageous than being right. The video is expressive in its dismal take on an existential Christmas season, a complete emptiness of hope for those waiting on a superman.
Zarathustra
“Behold, I teach you the overman (Superman). The overman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: the overman shall be the meaning of the earth! I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth, and do not believe those who speak to you of otherworldly hopes! Poison-mixers are they, whether they know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying and poisoned themselves, of whom the earth is weary: so let them go.
“Once the sin against God was the greatest sin; but God died, and these sinners died with him. To sin against the earth is now the most dreadful thing, and to esteem the entrails of the unknowable higher than the meaning of the earth.
….
“I love those who do not first seek behind the stars for a reason to go under and be a sacrifice, but who sacrifice themselves for the earth, that the earth may someday become the overman’s (superman’s).
From Book 1, Zarathustra’s Prologue, 4
The context in which the Overman or Superman is to be judged to be such is implied by Neitzsche’s previous works. He maintained that all human behavior is motivated by the will to power. In its positive sense, the will to power is not simply power over others, but the power over oneself that is necessary for creativity. Supermen are those who have overcome man – i.e. the individual self – and subliminated the will to power into a momentous creativity.
Supermen are creators of a “master morality” that reflects the strength and independence of one who is liberated from all values, except those that he deems valid. Such power is manifested in independence, creativity, and originality.
Nietzsche saw the Superman as the answer to the nihilistic rejection of all religious and moral principles that would be consequent on a widespread acceptance that God is dead. The Superman being the exemplar of true humanity.
Nietzsche’s philosophical concepts were often concerned with areas that came within the interest of the emerging school of Existentialism and came to the particular notice of numerous thinkers, writers, and theologians who were themselves broadly interested in Existentialism. Amongst these are Karl Jaspers, Martin Heidegger, Martin Buber, Paul Tillich, Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre.
Here is hope transcending, waiting upon a vibrant faith, nurturing pure charity–the remnants of a proper sacrificial salvific parting.
Eucharist by Okamihi
Driving reflecting this morning, I felt the need to express a feeling regarding a pleasant Sunday dinner with roommates and accompanying guest. First politeness intent, I enjoyed and appreciated the event, immensely. Carter, a Presbyterian minister, paying all due respect to the Catholic Church, heaping praise upon certain aspects, identifying in detail, he finally came to his concluding weak points of Catholicism, the biggest being the complete lack of empowerment for women. Relishing the marvelous food and conversation, perceiving the good intent behind the words I dismissed, avoiding any, and all, hint of confrontation. He told me of his eldest sister’s experience with Catholicism. His sister converted as an adult, becoming extremely active in social justice issues and evangelizing through the Church, however eventually the fact the priest possessed all the power she felt frustrated and useless, opting for another church where her leadership skills could be better utilized. I quickly thought of CS Lewis’ ‘Screwtape Letters’, the uncle demon advising his demon nephew to encourage his human charge to explore all churches, guiding him to churches as a critic and explorer. With such a mindset, the human would naturally choose a church that empowered him as an authority, a religious expert. Once that happen then the demon nephew truly held power over the man’s soul. I feel the understanding of the issue of power clearly defines my contemplative approach. I do not come to the Church seeking power. In fact, no power whatsoever in overcoming my greatest detriment, alcoholism, sends me reeling low to the Church. I am powerless Divine Trinity and Holy Mother, so helpless and weak. I have been defeated. I cling to powerlessness. In truth, prayer is the only visible action I can supply at this time. Last eventide, I watched a wonderful movie ‘Far From the Madding Crowd’, the film presenting the power within powerlessness through the character Gabriel. I embrace ironies and mysteries. There is a charming theater, Cedar Lee, right down the street from my new home. Last night, I was able to indulge in its convenience, viewing a romantic Thomas Hardy story brought to the big screen. Gabriel I took inspiration in, finding attributes about his approach to life enlightening. Within the midst of misfortune, wrongful events, he remained committed to integrity, devoted to increasing love within the world, adhering to patience, perseverance, and proper pride—doing the right thing when everything had to be screaming within to fight and rebel. Gabriel was a strong, intelligent man willing to allow life to unfold within Divine Intent. The scene of Bathsheba’s wedding, the woman he loved, and the terrible storm unleashing a fury, his sole concern remained her welfare, the protecting of Bathsheba’s farm, conducting appropriate duty, putting into action what was right while his heart had to be shattered. Able to strike deeply into righteousness, he humbly did what was virtuous. His heartbreaking and quaking, he held firmly to kindness and gentleness. It is not how I am. It is not how Father David Mary is. It is not how Ann is. Good people can be hard in their pursuit of God. Gabriel absorbed all things, always holding to the conviction that he would multiply others ability to love. To increase other’s ability to love is delicate and hard. The majority of us are broken in regards to loving properly, sending and receiving improperly, lacking profound insight into the needs of others. I thank Dr Nitcha for establishing the premise in my consciousness that it is my Godly responsibility to figure out, to contribute, and magnify the ability to love within others. That is the contemplative’s active mission. Shunning cleverness, the need to be right, and the aptitude for articulating convincing argument, I focus upon love, increasing potentialities, amplifying realities. Do others desire to love greater, virtuously intensifying charity efforts after encountering me? Or do I leave them confused and somewhat slightly dazed?
Down in Adoration falling, ‘Far From the Madding Crowd’
A movie alone, solitary announcing, witnessing hidden amidst darkness, eyes wide open perceiving based upon experience,
Gabriel, not the archangel, a man of patience, perseverance, and proud,
A shepherd courting proper, romance and passion, a smooth hand seriously devout, lacking intimidation, kindness and gentleness abounds,
Thy will be done beyond fear and doubt, acting unrestrained in trusting,
Ahead of others, pushing past the pain, allowing the hurt of imperfections, penetrating the Hardy shores of England, aridity and barrenness, knowing no success, Gabriel calmly endures the assisting of Bathsheba,
Gradualism, appropriate building toward the profound, subtle in the tasting, victorious eternal only sighted by its breadth,
Desiring only goodness, I am an antithesis, emotional and loud to the best of abilities and upbringings, screaming, kicking unapologetic, demanding to be right while frantically infighting, pursuing innocence, imposing a transformative anarchy,
A storm centering upon correctness, the ways of advancement violent and harsh, unGodly ruling upon the appetite of suppression, obsession, many years too quiet, silent in stupefaction, a longing arising from the deepest abscess, screaming in silence away from the crowd, crying hidden, identifying alone,
Knowing the love of a heart strong in prayer, yet unknowing the confidence of negation, the higher consecration of subjugation, the discernment to appease only God, ascertaining only with discomfort, isolating unbridled shame,
Silent like an amused angel, stealthily moving about in the obscurity of your prayer cell, caring mass attending, God provides illustrations, patterns in the making, a finger descending from a cloud, a smile beneath a veil, bonding sister I aspire to make you proud, Poor Clare able to tame a wrathful temper, constructing strength I am weak, wounded, and ashamed, you perceive I am barely breathing, cowering within my growing tall, I listen to you during the intensity of sacred mysteries being celebrated, newer rites avail, I curl fetal within the silence, soul comforting the blindness,
Exist another holy striving, seeking I feel your prayers, needing your incense rising, inundating olfactory sensing: breathing in, cleansing release, calming vital to the nerves, in prayer allow the heart to settle, the mind to finish quaking, the being to be lowered to the essential secreted refrain, the tongue only good when quiet, allowing simply tasting, provide and keep me near,
All human effort ultimately insufficient, a man can do only what a man can do, joining with a sister a heart can be renewed, allowing proper introspection, pleading with the perpetually adoring, infusion awaiting, calling upon the merciful Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Ghost I am silent, devoted desiring, a new day dawns, moments to appear, needing rest I repose underneath the covers.
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