Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth,
vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
What profit has man from all the labor
which he toils at under the sun?
One generation passes and another comes,
but the world forever stays.
The sun rises and the sun goes down;
then it presses on to the place where it rises.
Blowing now toward the south, then toward the north,
the wind turns again and again, resuming its rounds.
All rivers go to the sea,
yet never does the sea become full.
To the place where they go,
the rivers keep on going.
All speech is labored;
there is nothing one can say.
The eye is not satisfied with seeing
nor is the ear satisfied with hearing.

What has been, that will be;
what has been done, that will be done.
Nothing is new under the sun.
Even the thing of which we say, “See, this is new!”
has already existed in the ages that preceded us.
There is no remembrance of the men of old;
nor of those to come will there be any remembrance
among those who come after them.

Ecclesiastes 1

For myself, some of the most profound words of Scripture, penetrating while subduing. Father Roger has returned from Tanzania. His voice soothed pleasantly and soulfully today during Mass at St Paul Shrine. I had to pursue him after Mass, shaking hands, exchanging minimal words, while letting him know I missed him without directly expressing the fact. In his homily, he touched upon the words of Ecclesiastes by expressing the fact that accepting the fact there is nothing new under the sun can lead one to despondency, if one is not centered upon Christ. The New Testament fulfills the Old, truly bringing something new to the world. As sinners boredom is a factor in life, time alone, time in solitude, can be strenuous. Our imperfect natures are driven toward delusion and excitement, the pursuit of things we perceive as new. If we are not obsessed with the idea of discovering things appearing new and enlightening, boredom can slothfully overtake our troublesome natures. If we are not centered upon self-advancement, the elevating of the worldly man, where are we to go? Father Roger spoke of the matter with the idea of becoming tired. He made a statement that impressed. “We must not become tired (overwhelmed by life), yet we must become tired for Christ”. The idea synchronized with the message of recovery that we cannot overcome addictions and imperfections without surrendering. It is the first step. The Old Testament reading, per the course, allowed words from the Tao Te Ching, an essential book from my early wandering, to arise relevant.

Give up learning, and put an end to your troubles.

Is there a difference between yes and no?
Is there a difference between good and evil?
Must I fear what others fear? What nonsence!
Other people are contented, enjoying the sacrificial feast of the ox.
In spring some go to the park, and climb the terrace,
But I alone am drifting not knowing where I am.
Like a new-born babe before it learns to smile,
I am alone, without a place to go.

Others have more than they need, but I alone have nothing.
I am a fool. Oh, yes! I am confused.
Other men are clear and bright,
But I alone am dim and weak.
Other men are sharp and clever,
But I alone am dull and stupid.
Oh, I drift like the waves of the sea.
Without direction, like the restless wind.

Everyone else is busy,
But I alone am aimless and depressed.
I am different.
I am nourished by the great mother.

Simple words from myself, seeming relevant during Adoration

The tolling of the bell,
Tintinnabulum being rung,
Timekeeper dispensing, humbly,
The Cathedral bell swinging,
Amidst a tower, set apart,
Pointing heavenward, a lofty abode,
Angelus noon, intoning,
Tocsin yet hopeful,
Reverberating, an echo returning,
Advancing while diminishing,
Vibrating, wave after wave,
The sound going forth, repeating,
All are welcome, a sacrifice waning,
Dissipating, settling still,
Quiet now, bronze becalmed,
Pacified, silently waiting…

Beloved:
Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist,
there is disorder and every foul practice.
But the wisdom from above is first of all pure,
then peaceable, gentle, compliant,
full of mercy and good fruits,
without inconstancy or insincerity.
And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace
for those who cultivate peace.

Where do the wars
and where do the conflicts among you come from?
Is it not from your passions
that make war within your members?
You covet but do not possess.
You kill and envy but you cannot obtain;
you fight and wage war.
You do not possess because you do not ask.
You ask but do not receive,
because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.

Epistle of James

Calex meeting today, the second reading fitting nicely within the tenents of recovery. Jealousy and selfish ambition are identified as root causes of disorder. The monthly meeting, including the social world surrounding, aligns nicely with the whole of my wellbeing. I am carving my own niche, allowing the Holy Spirit to guide. Recovery is a dangerous process in which one must surrender, becoming vulnerable, while protecting one’s self from those, many of good intent, unable to recognize borders and proper roles. I have been through this enough. The wherewithal allowing maturity to guide has become a reality. All glory to God. I have established a home group, a men’s meeting concentrating upon the study of the Big Book. It meets on Saturday morning. I find myself in a peaceful state of mind at that time. My schedule allows that I have been off work since Thursday morning, while looking forward to a Saturday daily Mass at St Paul Shrine, plus a weekly prayer group afterwards. It is a highlight of the week. This week the post-Mass communal prayer was followed by a lengthy discussion with the Man of Prayer. When he is dialed in, there are few more accurate in their spiritual insight, especially regarding the prayer life. Saturday mornings and afternoons are proving to be prosperous times. Peace reigns, allowing a clear mind and proper disposition. The sponsor situation did not work out. The gentleman does not have the time, yet a friendship has emerged, a circle of fellowship grows. There is a gentleman from my home group I will approach regarding sponsorship. I am pleased with the providence of many facets coming together to form a cohesive body of sustainability. Nothing dominates, nor does a black and white drama of rejections, promises, and/or dependency emerge. I answer to God, allowing Him to speak through others, listening and going beyond myself, while not allowing the imperfections of others to dominate, dissuade, or influence. I need people, yet to socialize is something I am not good at. Left to my own devices, words from the Big Book: ‘the queer mental condition surrounding that first drink prevents normal functioning of the will power‘—proves true. I lack the power to say NO if not conducting an offensive. My powerlessness is a mind and body matter. Faith is NOT enough. I am convinced my darkest hours come from too much time alone. In Huysmans’ novel, he accurately defines Durtal struggling mightily after receiving his first confession. Subject to an adult life of debauchery, he is ordered to confess to a priest. The confession itself, which created immense anxiety, proved simple and revealing, exact details and a wretched dramatic pouring forth of self-accusations and incriminations unnecessary. The monk priest conducting the confession wisely and purely elicited an authentic cleansing of past sins. The priest’s declaration that Durtal must pray the Rosary and receive communion immediately ignited an intense internal battle when he was left alone, a spiritual confrontation with the evil one confusing. Durtal’s sloth and struggle with his thoughts reminded me of my own strife when enduring too much isolated time. My thoughts can over-complicate, producing fear, doubt, restlessness, irritability, and instability. Durtal reasons himself into a wrenching quandary as he wrestles with the priest’s demand regarding the Rosary. Everything is wrong. The monk priest told him he must recite ten every day for a month. Durtal cannot determine whether the priest meant ten beads or ten complete Rosaries. The lack of clarity turns him upon himself. Durtal’s angst only increases when he is informed his communion will not be administered by a monk priest. A visiting parish priest will conduct the sacrament. Left alone, Durtal’s thoughts assault him. He imagined one of the monk priests offering him communion after his salvific confession. He found fault with the parish priest due to his pension to constantly crack jokes, a lack of seriousness annoying Durtal. Reasoning alone, he swings from various determinations, convincing himself to refuse communion, then to accept—tying himself in knots regarding the matter. He abandons himself to the conclusion he must not receive communion from the parish priest. Huysmans powerfully demonstrates the impossibility of an individual being able to advance their spiritual life based upon their own doing. Within the receiving of grace, properly experiencing, an individual is suspect to personal imperfections and the wiles of evil. The father of lies is an expert in influencing self-destroying thoughts. Durtal is rescued from his self-imposed plight through another encounter with his confessor. The priest assures him he only meant ten beads of the Rosary, expertly providing spiritual direction, alleviating stress. The monk priest followed with the accusation that Durtal had rambled his way into rejecting the receiving of communion. Durtal confirmed the fact. The priest monk warns of the power of evil to influence our thoughts when attempting to advance in the spiritual life. He understood, identified with, while explaining Durtal’s struggles. The fellowship of the recovery world proves a necessity within the greater whole of advancing toward unity with my Lord and Savior.