Catholic Hermit Considers Desert Time and Dishonesty

There is a term the folk living in this desert have that is a misnomer, I suppose, of sorts.  They are quite proud of it and what it means to them in lived actuality.  They call it something akin to "desert time."

What it means is that they do not stick to any time frame, such as if they say they will be at work or pick up something being sold used, they do not show up on time or often enough, at all.  The lay and secular people find it to be stylish, and someone once tried to explain it to me--how wonderful it was to be so free--as I had put off doing some tasks so that I'd be free when someone had said he'd come to do an odd job for which he wanted a-plenty per hour.

I waited and waited and waited.  I called and called.  No show, no response.  A person who happened to be in my hermitage to help with some lifting (and had shown up, obviously, but delighted in explaining how "awesome" is "desert time" and that I must get with it!) explained that people in these parts just go with the flow and practically intentionally don't stick to the time frame they have chosen or said.  And, furthermore, everyone knows that and goes along with it--desert time!

This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit asked, "Isn't that sort of unkind to the person who is waiting and wondering for hours and sometimes for a day, or maybe forever in some cases?"

"Oh, no, it is actually very kind--the way desert time works.  Since the other people know that the person is on desert time and might show up a couple hours later or the next day, it gives them even more time to do whatever they might be doing."

I call it desert rude and desert irresponsible (but only in the silence of solitude, sharing my take on desert time with God).

Today a woman was to come between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. to pick up some dirt-cheap windows I had listed for sale.  They would cost $140 or more, new, and these were excellent condition--just too small for the hermitage renovation, so had removed and replaced.

I hauled the windows from the pole barn around 10:30 a.m. and had them by the front gate, and waited.  I waited, and waited, and then needed a pain break and rest.  Around 2:30 p.m. I called to ask if she still wanted them.  "Definitely" she said, and would be over soon.

I waited, and waited, and waited, doing little tasks but not able to get started in anything of duration like painting a ceiling.  A man called, inquiring if I still had the windows as he really wanted them. I said someone else was supposedly coming but had not yet, and I'd call her, and give her an hour.  He was already wanting to come immediately and purchase--good deal that they were.

So I called the lady a third time and asked her if she was still coming, and that someone else wants them, and I told him to give her an hour.  If she still did not come, he could buy them.  The lady was put out a bit and mentioned she'd have to set aside what she was into, doing, and would come.  She made it barely within the hour.  I had started spreading more mulch out by the fence, keeping an eye out for her.

I then called the man back and said the woman did indeed come; the windows were sold.  I am not what anyone could diagnose as obsessive compulsive nor am I the saint of charity by a long shot. However, I do not want to ever catch this disease akin to desert time.

Then there is a point about dishonesty I'd like to make.  Granted, last week was rather chaotic with oddities occurring in just trying to get the proper scan scheduled in a place where there was a working phone number, and then also counting on the neighbor boy to come to work on the times agreed upon.  

Friday morning I had the scan at the hospital imaging center.  The lad called me, and I said I'd be back at the hermitage around 2:15 (but I do not call it that to others since I am hermit, hidden in that regard from the eyes of men, women, and children!).  If he could come over at 2:30, we'd get to work!  He agreed.  I said I'd call again to let him know for sure that I was back.  Seems a kind thing to do, in case something would happen--save him walking the distance to my little place.

I called.  No answer.  I left a message.  A couple hours later I called again.  No answer.  I left a message that since it is difficult to get in touch, or perhaps something had happened to them, I would leave it that I am here, now no need to be going anywhere into the distant future.  He can come whenever he wants to work, or he also can call and let me know his schedule.

The next day, the lad came over, apologized for not showing up the day before, said he'd forgotten.  He then said he could not work the next week because his grandparents were coming to visit.  How long?  He was not sure--maybe a week.  So I said to enjoy his grandparents, and let me know if he wants to work after they leave.

This afternoon when out mulching by the road, I happened to see the lad out riding his bike with another boy, backpacks, heading off.  Ironically, the neighbor lad turned around as he must have sensed me down the way, and I smiled and waved.  So much for having to be on hand for the grandparents.

Now, there may be excellent reasons for the dishonesty.  For one thing, it may seem odd to have an older person in much solitude, renovating a fixer-upper, tending gardens, being a goat on top of the pole barn painting the roof and slip-sliding along.  Also, with the recent health issue and my needing to go to a hospital emergency room, and then the subsequent PET Scan, they may not want to "be involved."  It was not as if they were, but they had decided that I was not an emergency and exclaimed that even the EMS would never take me.

Why?  I was able to stand and to verbalize.  Of course, a little over a day later amid more agony, the EMS was insistent I needed to ride in their vehicle.  And well I did need to go, as it turned out.  I would have called them sooner had I known it was free of charge due to the distance into civilization.  Tax dollars at work.

However, regarding my neighbor lad, it would have been as well and of course much better, had he just said he did not want to work, after all.  I would understand. He is young, and even though the pay on the high side (because young people in this area of the desert do not like to work, and this boy seemed an anomaly), they are a family quite well off. 

Still, dishonesty does not settle well with me, even when a kid or his mother are trying to seem kind or such.  Did they think simply saying, "I don't want to work this summer, after all"" would be unkind?

I'm praising God for the little touch of grace this afternoon, of the lad turning around while pedaling off, seeing me smile and wave.  Caught in the lie, he was, and I know he is a sensitive enough soul that he will realize a bit of sting.  And I, the hermit next door of whom they would never guess am a consecrated religious solitary nor know that I am Catholic, even, has been praying for this family.

And I am praying for this thing called something like "desert time" and the people who live by it.  One might think that it is akin to living in the Order of the Present Moment. But no, it is far from it.  For desert time, or whatever one wants to term it, involves rudeness and irresponsibility.  At root it is selfish, unfocused, uncharitable, and silly. 

As for this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit, once again I see that the Lord is asking of me to do the work here solus Deus, God alone, and to allow Him to help me in ways He chooses.  And for now that is quite at a snail's pace, and with increased bodily pain to which to adapt.  Call upon the Lord, and He will answer!  God is with us, always.

The Order of the Present Moment flows freely, yes.  But in the Order of the Present Moment, the Gospel Rule and the greatest of the command to love God above all else and others as Jesus loves us, is the operational condition.  And in the Order of the Present Moment, all is on God's time yet in respectful truth and goodness.

God Bless His Real Presence in us, little children!  We are all in this life together; let us consider love of one another as Christ loves us.  Ah, but that can be the rub:  we may not know of or grasp or think of or feel Christ's love, so we may not know how to love others as we are loved.  Always much to pray about, all the more!

Catholic Hermit: Praying, Working, Suffering, Acedia

Haven't written much lately but continue on in prayer, work, and pain.

This past week have been mostly on the mattress, trying to pray, to keep up the spirits and a positive attitude on all the work yet to be done in conjunction to flailing finances.  Have been also keeping up some with the world scene and, ironically, the world of politics.  Donald Trump has taught this hermit much.  (Will write on that topic later.)

About all the hermit has accomplished physically is to keep up some watering.  Picked some vegetables and fruits, had a visit from a young neighbor lad who was home alone one day when power was out, and have tried to pray even though nothing very disciplined.

Seems as if this consecrated Catholic hermit has come into a phase of spiritual acedia.  The financial advisor--great Catholic man and wisely practical (admire this as seems to be lacking in the hermit!)--sent a brochure of the prayers ascribed as Jesus' asking them of St. Bridget.  While the "promises" included if a person prays these prayers for a good length of time, daily, are not condoned by the Church and were added at some point in history distant from St. Bridget's time on earth, the prayers are rote, mental, yet very good in covering aspects of Jesus' life mission.

It has been awhile since the nothing Catholic hermit has prayed verbal/mental prayers.  This hermit is not a disciplined type in temperament, as far as remaining in one phase or aspect of spiritual growth.  However, in the spiritual life, we know that there is never, on earth, a time in which we will not ever sin, not ever be in perfect contemplation.  Rather, we wax and wane; there is a movement innate in us as in the ocean of the high tide and ebb tide.  We roll with the Order of the Present Moment.

But we can lapse in our process of seeking God and loving Him with all our bodies, minds, hearts and souls.  We can drift far out yet not as in a productive or generative casting out into the deep.  More it is as if we are drifting out in a sewage drain system, where the farther we drift, the worse the stench and the thicker the sludge and excrement.

This weary, pained, consecrated Catholic hermit recently has been out in the sewage of the world too much.  Even if trying (and praying) to refocus on His Real Presence, to read the spiritual writings so good for the soul, to still its soul in listening to the Holy Spirit--the eyes have taken in far too much of the world in news and thoughts despite always trying to relate everything in existence to a spiritual lesson, a spiritual truth, a linkage through, with, and in His Real Presence.

Now, that was one long sentence expressing a simple but huge thought.

This hermit has been stricken with spiritual acedia, and what to do about it?  Friends are praying that the hermit get back into work mode which helps provide the groundwork for silent prayer leading to contemplation while in the process of work progress.  It is an art form, is manual labor, and it is a symphony of silence, solitude, slowness, suffering, selflessness (mind leaves self), stillness, simplicity, stability, serenity.

But the hermit has wandered the laptop, for the spiritual reading of Macarius and finishing Dionysius can be heavy--as in the books themselves are hard to lift and hold when needing to be flat on the back with knees propped under pillow to allow for low back to be relieved somewhat.  And in pain, the mind has difficulty focusing on other-than-pain.  And time flows by with concern arising: how will the hermit be able to financially and physically finish this temporal abode before dire straits arrive?

The other evening the hermit came across the musical artist Eric Clapton.  Second greatest guitarist in the world, it is said.  The hermit read about and listened to documentaries on the musician and man.  Observing those who are successful in their life missions, work, and genius teaches much that can be applied to how a consecrated Catholic hermit (or any soul!) can be successful in our unique, God-ordained life missions and temporal-spiritual life purpose.

There are certain commonalities woven through the lives of people who succeed in life, whether their missions are more in "the world" or not in "that world" but destined to be of it, all of us, physically.  Not to go into the points in this post, but the song "Holy Mother" written and performed by Eric Clapton (and in some instances along with the great Luciano Pavaroti), hit this hermit's body, mind, heart, and soul last evening.  Thus, the two postings from YouTube.

Awoke this morning with the melody and words of "Holy Mother" flowing in the mind, heralding a day in which the nothing consecrated Catholic hermit has great hope and faith that the formal definition of spiritual acedia is already passing away and waning, and the deep and profound love of God and delight and desire in all things of God, rules the being and soul.

On another note, have read not too long ago that some blogs are successful due to the sheer honesty and personal vulnerability of the blogger.  Those who admit to their humanness and open to the reality that they are not perfect and are striving regardless (no matter their topic), tend to garner the touchstone aspect with the vast bulk of likewise-striving humanity.

This hermit, this soul, certainly hopes it is touching other touchstones and is being touched, as well.  The recent feelings of spiritual backsliding, of this phase of spiritual acedia, of the reality that the world can be alluring to even those of whom God has personally called out of the world and has spoken in His Voice to that effect, assure this hermit (and hopefully others) that  it is no different than all who remain quite aware that we are in temporal and spiritual procession.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another as God loves us first.

A Catholic Hermit's Gratitude

This sharing leans to the personal, always.  I have come to discern it best to remain honest, sincere, genuine, realistic to truth no matter how painful or raw, and am humbled by and with the results.

My prayer is that what I share in some ways helps others, presents reality of charity as well as sinfulness, and ultimately that it somehow glorifies God.  I suppose this latter comes from His grace and my desire to seek Him, always in truth and love, and in loyalty to His Real Presence and His Church, the Body, of which we are members.

Since I'm to be in the Order of the Present Moment, as my religious "order", directed by Jesus to this nearly 19 years ago, what I share are slices of life from the perspective of a Catholic hermit, victim soul, human being and thus a sinner on the stairway to heaven, hopefully, prayerfully, soulfully.  

That my life has been quite challenging with much suffering and hardships--and the greatest from within Holy Mother Church--there have also been many spiritual consolations.  Chronicling as if documenting a case study, seems best.

For awhile I've been reflecting on what criticizing and judging does to a person compared and contrasted to what encouragement and love does.  However, I have presented myself openly, knowing that it will either cause others to judge and condemn, and perhaps a handful not doing so.  


I'm at a point in my life and journey that it seems best to lay the cards on the table upfront, and let whatever  the result to be as it is.   It seems as if Jesus did that.  Each of the apostles did that.  John the Baptist did it, all the prophets.  They did not screen or filter in order to better be accepted or to fit in.   Why try to fool others or, more importantly, oneself?  We never fool His Real Presence, that is for sure!

Today I thank anyone out there who prayed for my right shoulder.  Although it is not healed physically, it is much better.  I also prayed the prayer for Jesus' shoulder wound even though my mind was tired and did not focus heavily on content.  

My intention and need was strong, though.  Faith has it that His Real Presence understands and knows I thought about His shoulder wound while drywall mudding, and I thought about others--internet strangers--praying for me.  My spirits lifted; my shoulder seemed not as painful.  I was able to proceed with the task literally at hand.

Thank you, Jesus!  Thank You, Father!  Thank you, Holy Spirit!  Thank you fellow pilgrims on the spiritual journey, on the stairway to heaven!  God bless His Real Presence in us!