A fireplace burning, Super Bowl viewing, my Sunday offs are becoming special.  We are working fifty-five to sixty hours a week so a day of rest proves essential.  The home has become a bit of a focus.  I have committed to staying, vowing an increased responsibility regarding maintenance.  The home possesses potential.  Where I use to feel no concern, due to the home owners lack of direction, I now see the home perfect for my goal of accumulating money.  Rent is close to nothing, and with the home owner taking residence in Virginia, he is rewarding when I take action.  It really is a decent situation, ripe with possibilities.  Today, I spent four hours cleaning, disinfecting, and organizing the basement.  I am confident I have eliminated all rodents.  Friday, I met with a new personal physician.  The visit went well, a game plan put into action.  She is approaching matters that we need a complete overview of my health.  Due to my post-fifty age, she wants a battery of test done.  Tomorrow morning, I will have blood work done, an emphasis placed upon thyroid testing.  In the coming weeks, we will schedule a colonoscopy, a prostrate screening, and an EKG.  She is a quiet, matter of fact, soft-spoken doctor, yet I think I was guided in a good direction.  She wants me to provide her with information on all the vitamins and supplements I am taking and an overview of my diet and exercise.  I have never had a doctor take this approach.  I have been taking enzymes at night with a glass of water, a practice holding over from my days of fasting.  My digestion is improved and there is a noticeable decrease in bloating and gas.  I am interested to experience this new relationship with a personal physician.  She asked me about my history with alcoholism and what happen over Christmas.  I appreciated her silent manner of listening; fully present, observing while not commenting.  When I assured her I was confident difficult days were behind me, she responded with a question: “Will you be honest and tell me if you are drinking?”  Her eye contact held me.  I responded, “I am an honest man.  Not to tell you would be dishonest.”  I also need to get to the optometrist, a new testing of my vision and prescription glasses.  I lost my last pair and it has been over a year since my last eye exam.  Securing my home and body, I move into a greater wrestling with peace as a solitary man.  Within the short work of St Albert the Great, the teacher of St Thomas Aquinas, I read words that cut to the bone, an idea others have touched upon in different ways.  St Francis de Sales stresses patience, another I cannot pinpoint emphases the inner and outer man—the inner man remaining detached from the actions of the outer man, others accentuating the need to accept imperfection—that to be overwhelmed by one’s tendency toward and conducting of sin is a grievous sign of pride.  Here are St Albert the Great’s written words: “So if the will is good and is obedient and united to God with pure understanding, he is not hurt even if the flesh and the senses and the outer man is moved to evil, and is slow to good,”  I think it is first necessary to understand my interpretation of the idea of good will and obedience to God with pure understanding mandates the establishment of interior presence, a prayer life devoutly exercised to the quieting of one’s self, listening in silence before the Eucharist, participating daily in the celebration of Mass.  It is not an intellectual achievement, rather a humbling and perseverance in prayer and partaking of the sacraments: communion and confession.  Once the inner man is fortified and fed, nothing else matters, nothing else can compare, as the Song of Songs poetically states:

With great delight
I sat in his shadow,
And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
He brought me to the banqueting house,
And his banner over me was love.

Sustain me with raisins,
Refresh me with apples;
For I am sick with love

St John of the Cross elaborates in a poem on into my embracing of St Albert the Great’s idea:

For when once the will
Is touched by God himself
It cannot find contentment
Except in the Divinity
But since his Beauty is open
To faith alone, the will
Tastes him in I-don’t-know-what
Which is so gladly found

Once the inner man has taken root into a deeper path, truth dominates his heart.  Even his own weakness will not usurp the grace.  Exterior activities and worldly matters will become wearisome.  The inner man will comprehend his calling is to cultivate within his prayer life.  With the support of grace, the outer man will not be able to thwart the command.  All efforts, even thorns and failures, lead to God.  Time and life demand moments away from Mass and prayer, the fortifying of the body and the establishment of a home necessary, the passing of idle time constructively—enjoying and contributing to life.  I have considered reigniting my bedside vigils with the Hospice, however proper discernment tells me no.  I am working too many hours.  My time away from work will be dedicated to my faith life, and for the winter a concentration upon my physical health—establishing a relationship with my personal physician, proper diet, and exercise.  My time is thoroughly filled.  Socially, I seek the space of being alone.  Companionship during Mass is enough for meaningful encounters.  Next Sunday, I was invited to a downtown luncheon with a group from St Paul’s Shrine.  The organizing woman lost her husband the Christmas season of 2015.  She puts together a mature pleasant crowd.  There is an elderly man who serves during Mass that seems to be gravitating toward me as I gravitate toward him.  He and his wife attended the last luncheon.  We were seated across from one another.  I am confident to say amidst what turned out to be a men’s gathering, five men situated together at one end of the table while the women gathered at the other end, we enjoyed splendid conversation in a wide-ranging exchange.  The strong man’s serious demeanor, while rarely speaking, plus ever present faith comforts, provides proper companionship.  The luncheon, appearing as providence, provides enough socializing to satisfy my need for the week.  St Dominic’s early morning Saturday Mass and Holy Hour has also become an anticipated endeavor, a highlight to my week.  The powerful Holy Hour is quite small, under five people participating.  The woman who organizes the readings, conducting most of them, is a beautiful authentic woman radiating holiness, quiet and receding from others, while open and friendly, obviously psychologically sound.  Her presence endears, yet there is no call to seek friendship or familiarity—a hello and smile is comforting enough.  The Eucharist, meditations before the Presence, Rosary beads, a crucifix in hand, and silence is enough.