Catholic Hermit: Psalm Hits the Spot

Mercy.  The severe physical pain surge continues as result of last evening's trial-run drive of 1.5 miles and back to grocery.  But it is a start of trying to get back into more functionality in this long, post-operative recovery.  As in our temporal and very much our spiritual lives, we must pick ourselves up and simply keep going.

The Psalm from today's Mass truly hits the spot!

"But I am afflicted and in pain;
let your saving help, O God, protect me.
I will praise the name of God in song,
and I will glorify Him with thanksgiving.

"See, you lowly ones, and be glad;
you who seek God, may your hearts revive!
For the LORD hears the poor,
and His own who are in bonds he spurns not."

I consider the various types of poverty as well as the many forms of bonds of which we find ourselves.  Physical bonds are probably the least of what can bind us; mental, emotional bonds are worse.  But a soul bound to other than God, seems the ultimate in suffering.

This morning I've been thinking about Mary of Egypt (344-421) a desert mother (amma) of an early century.  I read a book about her, and while I don't recall certain details, I know and appreciate her life's story..  She went out into the desert as a penitent.  She had repented of her life of sexual licentiousness, turning to God, and lived as a hermit, freeing herself from bondage of body, mind, heart and soul.  

After many years, a priest came upon her, not knowing if she was male or female for her visage had grown wizened and hair had grown, covering her like a garment.  He realized he was in the presence of a holy one from brief conversation and her spiritual transcendence.  He gave her Communion, a consecrated Host, of which she'd not had for nearly four decades, or so it seems I recall from reading.  She had not seen a human in years.  The priest said he would return again with communion and to check on her; a year later he returned and located her, deceased.

St. Mary of Egypt is remembered as one whose conversion is profound, and her renunciation of sin and path of penance and prayer remarkable.  Her transcendence of soul is yet another example of the humbling aspects of the spiritual journey can bring in seeking God as penitents, praying and praising a while renouncing whatever and all that binds us in any way.  She is also the patron saint of penitents (and we can include her a mentor for hermits, too!).

Spiritual life and all that goes with it, is a process.  Spiritual-temporal progression takes temporal time, spiritually focused diligence, a living out our lives following Christ's way for each of us, and striving in seeking and accepting God's will.  Rare are the immediate infusion of transcending grace--a transfiguration of mind, heart, and soul.

I'm calling upon Mary of Egypt to befriend me today as I again start out anew, journeying farther into the desert, the physical aspects, yes, but also the desert within, so subtle yet richly full of  Christ's all.

But I tell you, also, this morning I thought happily of the man who shared his story of miraculously having a gift of being able to transcend his physical pain, to pick up and be cured of all the physical pains of spine that had reduced him to bed-ridden status.  I assume today as he heads pain free to work, he still is viewing all with gratitude.  

As for me, I am praising God even if a bit set-back with physical pain upon pain.  He hears and knows; He spurns not one of us who even if bound in whatever way, call upon His Name.  We all will be able to fully transcend, in Christ, whatever pain at some point; and for most of us that will be at the marvelous moment of our earthly death.  

But in the meantime, we can be freed from the various ties that bind us in so many ways, through faith in and love of God, acceptance of His love, mercy, and His will.  And in praise and prayer, we simply keep going! 

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit Unfoldings

Well, it has been about three weeks since I wrote much of what is going on in my more personal, inner life.

One thing I've not shared on this blog is that I was given an assignment nearly 17 months ago.  Not one to be involved much in news and not in politics previously, I was given an assignment of prayer diligence within the political temporal realm.  It was time consuming with prayer and watching.  Three or four weeks ago, the last Mass I physically participated in, deep in mystical ecstasy throughout, I felt urged to make an offering.

The following week I had horrible demonic assaults.  One thing after another went wrong in the temporal aspects of my efforts with the hermitage renovation as well as with much suffering of body and mind and heart.  One aspect that the devil knows will get to me is: rejection.  Plus, the extreme of construction and project failures and difficulties did not help, nor did storm fronts which send my damaged spine into insanity-pain.

For a ten-day period, I made five phone calls, leaving messages for the parish priest to please call me, that I was having demonic assaults, severe suffering, and truly needed to get the house blessed right away!  The first call was emotional, and it was horrible in another way as the parish has no means of leaving any personal message, so my pleas and needs were heard by whoever and how many happened to wander into the parish office to listen to their open voicemail.

I also left four messages in that ten-day time period with the parish administrator at home.

No responses. Silence. Deadening nothing. I had even left a message on the emergency number, of which there was no human voice so was not sure with whom I was leaving a message.  By that time I think I stated to the effect that I did not think it was going to work out for me to be there, as I was in spiritual crisis, my spiritual father who amidst a surgery, called me from afar, and said I MUST get the parish priest to come bless the house right away, that I was under demonic assault.  However, still nothing.

I even emailed the vicar of clergy in the diocese, and three words, no name, no nothing were the response:  praying for you!  So, that at least was something and positive if not so isolated and impersonal--not that prayers are ever under-valued here!  Yes, that was good, and I suppose in reflection, it assures me that God allowed and willed all of this unfolding.

So I called a priest, a monk, of the Eastern Church, and I mentioned demonic assault, battling temptations of despair, and needing the house blessed as bad things were occurring in temporal ways.  He immediately responded, "This is not good!"  He had people coming for confession right then, but said he'd come; and I said as long as I know you are coming, I will be all right.

After the ten days of no responses to my messages with the Catholic parish and priest, waiting 12 hours would be a breeze.  So he came the next day after their liturgy, a Sunday.  We spoke quite awhile, and he once again reminded me that no way will I ever be accepted into a parish, nor would my spiritual life be anything a priest, even, would typically grasp.  We ended up having some laughs after his reminding me that keeping to spiritual reading, such as my breviary, is always stabilizing.

He then thoroughly blessed this hermitage and also me, the hermit in it.  We discussed possibility of my coming to their liturgy, but he felt it best not, as there are few who attend from the area; and they might be concerned if I'd have the ecstasy.  

(I have no idea if I'd have the ecstasy in an Eastern Church liturgy or if it is only the Western Church mass. It has never occurred in a Protestant or Evangelical worship service, but that makes sense to me considering the differences I sense having been brought up a Protestant--and have no hesitancy in being supportive of the good of Protestants and Evangelicals, in their love of Jesus Christ, God, the Holy Spirit, and the Living Word, and acts of charity.)

Regardless, if I want to participate in the monks' vespers, I can call in advance to make sure they are there.  It is a small monastery but devoted to their pursuit of Christ and the spiritual life in the Eastern Church tradition.  I will say, that the priest did not seem to balk or bat an eye regarding anything I happened to share from my purview which is not necessarily how others perceive, from what I've been told over the years.  Still is very hard for me to accept this.

Well, I then, after 10 or 11 days got a call from the parish administrator.  She and the priest could come the following Wednesday at 1 p.m. to bless the house and bring communion.  I explained that the monastery priest had come and blessed the house, but that I'd love to have communion.  I  also explained that under the circumstances, that were rather unusual in my calls for help and seemingly the door closed, and that I felt the priest maybe is not equipped to cope with the issues that at least this time, occurred, and that the parishioners remain awkward if not cold and shunning other than one lone usher.  Yes, it seemed best that I remain in solitude and not be the occasion of sin that I am for the parishioners as well as the priest.

Another situation--was the previous Friday.  I finally reached a human on the phone in the parish office. I was yet trying to get any response at all.  This morning I was having a horrific pain siege and knew it had the earmarks of being supernatural, as I'd made the offering for the national situation, coming nigh soon.  

The pain was excruciating, and I was still hoping to hear from the priest and to get the house blessed, at that point, and perhaps anointing and communion for me if someone coming this direction.  I even asked if there was anyone in the parish who lived in this vicinity, who could be a contact person, since I have no one to call upon, and that morning thus far was not even able to get up off the mattress, the pain so severe.

But no, there seemed to be no sense of that kind of contact, as I'd asked even if someone who could stop by on the rare times I have that severe of pain, to microwave something or get me a drink?  No, nothing.  When in that kind of pain, I weep; and of course, I was weeping and not even sure of what I explained, but I know I mentioned the depth of the pain and that I have no contacts for such times of need.  No, nothing; and there was no call back later:  Are you all right?  There was no offer to check in.  Nothing.

Well, dear readers, we must learn to discern the facts and the events, no matter how bizarre they might be.  For Catholics to not bring a suffering parishioner communion--that is bizarre, even if not for the two weeks since I finally got a phone call from the parish administrator. While I am not being an in-person occasion of sin for them (and granted, I could then sin thinking about the situation, in return!), I am still a parish member.  No communion.  Nothing.

It has been difficult, as such matters rip open scars from the past, of similar odd situations of priests and parishioners who defied the odds of Christianity in a negative mode.  Yet, I am reminded of the vision of over eight years ago, in which I was shown a heavy net filled with parishioners and priests, tangled and struggling to get out, all just beneath the surface of waters. I tread water, desperately trying to open up the nets to free the struggling people!  But a voice from above me, from the heavens above, told me firmly:  Let them be; I will take care of them.  You are to swim out into the deep.

And so, in the dream vision, I did.  I faced the open waters, seeing nothing far out ahead, and started swimming, knowing I could not touch bottom and likely never would.  I kept swimming and swimming until the vision ceased.

Mercy, it is so hard to keep faith in such dream visions, for the realities of this latest grievous disappointment and shut down, and doors closed, and facing the bottom line--it is more painful than I can express. I am so stubborn, so proud, wanting matters to go my way, what I want.  I wanted still to be simply accepted in a parish, to be able to come and go from Mass, and to on the rare occasion of a spiritual crisis, to have a priest who would even return the call for help. 

But no, nothing.  And instead it was a priest of a different lung of the Church, which is fine.  My spiritual father had told me that in emergencies, to call upon those priests.  And I would be a part of that lung if the Lord had led me, but that door is not opening for active entering, as it also was a couple years ago when I was told, simply, by the Lord, "Not for you."  

I'm sure there are those who will judge even what I write, and make assumptions, and jump to detract and to dictate what bad fruit there is from a mystical ecstasy at Mass.  Yes, I've had that kind of detraction and judging.  The Lord had told me four years ago to ignore those who would criticize and misjudge.  How could I honestly write of my spiritual journey if I let the criticism and misjudging, the detraction of others, hinder my open sharing?

I will not. I will share.  As for bad fruit, I have considered that it has been a lot of bad fruit, my being in parishes all along, and of sharing my inner spiritual life, even the more superficial aspects, with priests who have asked me to tell them, to hold back nothing.  They become envious, or doubtful, or fearful that I might see into them.  (They do not grasp that I am only shown what the Lord chooses, and that personally I have come to want to stay clear and block as I don't want to see, quite frankly, their foibles!)

But it is true that I have been given assignments, and I try my best to follow through.  It can be very painful, all of it.  I have had to express to the Lord and did so in my confession with the priest of the Eastern Church, that I cannot handle much rejection or the ripping open of old scars of past abuse.  The Lord knows it all!

And so the monastery priest and I discussed some of the women, of which he was well aware of Mary of Egypt and had heard of Mary of Olonets, and I mentioned Santa Rosalia and Bl. Anne Catherine Emmerich, and of the former three having gone into total seclusion--and why?  Why would they do that?  Increasingly I have the sense that they were not acceptable in their parishes, and not being priests nor able to be in religious orders for whatever reasons, they lived their lives in solitude of a type in which they were never in parishes, never received the sacraments.

Other than, we have Mary of Egypt who did receive a consecrated host from a priest after 39 or so years, as he'd heard there was a hermit woman living out in the desert and went seeking.  He promised to return in a year to give her communion, and he found her body a year later, already mummifying in the dry, desert heat.

Maria of Olonets did return to civilization after years of  being in the forests of northern Russia.  Santa Rosalia died in her cave, having lived in there for 25 years, as far as anyone can determine.  Her bones were not found for three hundred years after, and that due to her appearing to a man in a dream, telling him where to locate her relics and to process with them in the city of Palermo.  If this was done, the terrible plague would abate.  He found her cave, found her bones; the people processed with her bones, and the plague ended immediately.

Bl. Anne Catherine Emmerich did have a priest who took pity on her, befriended, trusted, and brought communion to her when he could.  Her bishop was against her. Her family was cold to her; they sent a younger sister to help tend her, and that sister was cruel in mistreatment.  Eventually the Lord sent a man who would write out what Anne Catherine dictated of her visions.  Other than that, she was basically outside the temporal Catholic Church, as were the others I've mentioned, in liturgy and sacraments and acceptance.

And I have to accept that I am not accepted in parishes nor by priests, other than my dear spiritual father who is recovering from a heart procedure.  Even Fr. V. in Nigeria is not available for much if any email communication.  He is grieving, worn out, and went through a collapse not long ago. That is all I know from a brief message.  There is nothing he can advise or do from afar, at this point. Internet service is not consistent.  He is laden with responsibilities in his religious community.

Anyway, I am in a period of adaptation.  My daughter called and said she thought I'd already accepted that I am not accepted in my church.  Well, no.  I so wanted to believe this priest that he appreciates my being there.  But as my spiritual father says, it is so bizarre, the recent events, that it is "funny."  (I don't sense Jesus laughing.  Perhaps my spiritual father meant "funny" as in "odd" and "uncanny."  Regardless, I am trying to find  humor in it, albeit not easy to do so.

The hermitage is blessed. I do have my breviary here by me on the mattress although I'm in the worst bout of acedie (spiritual ennui) than ever experienced or thought possible. I have some anger to contend with, and I am dealing with total work burn out on this hermitage renovation efforts.  The weather shifts have my body up and down in pain issues.  But, my assignment of prayer and suffering with the political situation is concluded.

And there was a miracle last early evening, but too much to write about at this point. Possibly not necessary to share, although it was an immediate answer for a sign that Jesus is here with me and that I am on the right path, the right train of thought, that I am to not try again, to speak to a priest nor to enter a parish.  Think Mary of Egypt, Maria of Olonets, Santa Rosalia, and to some extent, Ven. Emmerich.  

Male counterparts have had their non-acceptances, such as St. Joseph Benedict LeBre and even John of the Cross and Padre Pio, but the latter two were priests and thus did not have to exist without the temporal sacraments and Joseph LeBre was able to go to varous parishes even if spat upon.  None of them that I know of though, had a phenomenon occur during Mass of which they were but a peon parishioner.  Padre Pio's situation was high-scale phenomenon and the power of his priesthood to assist, despite his being battered a'plenty--for shame!

So I am in a period of finality, of final adaptation and acceptance of not being accepted. I am accepting that I will never enter a Catholic parish again nor will I ever talk with a Catholic priest again, other than the infrequent phone call I might receive from my spiritual father in whatever time either of us have left on earth.

The miracle sign last early evening gives me stamina!  It increases my faith; it assures me with courage in this path, with resolve, difficult and painful as it still is.

Even the monastery priest of the Eastern Church told me I must stop being the beagle, going back and back, wagging my tail, when I repeated get my snout kicked.  No, even if my heart is that of a beagle going forth wanting to love and accept and to be loved and accepted, I must remain on my dog bed.

So these are some of this consecrated Catholic hermit's unfoldings.  I am praying about my blog.  A tiny slip of paper wafted out from some recipes that fell from between a knife rack that was on the floor in this chaotic construction zone. It was a small slip upon which I'd written the two suggested book titles from Dr. H., given me over the phone over four years ago.  That was before this desert place of exile was even a thought on the horizon.  

And exile it is, more than I could ever have fathomed, including exile as a type of hermit that is of the outer reaches requiring extreme adaptation and exhaustive hardship.

How Hermits Contend with Medical, Health Concerns

Dealing with health and medical concerns are probably, for Catholic hermits, dealt with much as any person in our times deals with health issues.  However there are some unique considerations for a hermit.  But first, let us consider how hermits of yore handled their medical and health problems.

In general, hermits of all centuries past either lived in total solitude or near or with others such as those in lara's (grouping of hermitage cells in closer geographic configuration to one another).  Some in what we can loosely term as hermit orders or those hermits who had followers choosing to live nearby or in adjoining cells or dwellings, lived in a type of community.  Those who lived in more isolated locales often did not have anyone nearby to check on them often nor to tend them if ill or injured.

We can pretty much get the idea of what life would be like for hermits of varying living situations.  Those in greater solitude would have to turn to God to see them through--either through the illness or injury or through to heaven!  If someone would happen along and discover them ailing, then the hermit would be taken to receive help or be tended, or word would go out to others such as a family member or other contact out in the world.  A family member or other contact, or church member then might come and tend to the hermit or take in the hermit until healed.

When the hermit lived out from a monastery, for example, when the injured or ill hermit was discovered by one or other who checked on the hermit on occasion or when the hermit did not return to what was often a given time period to see the superior at the monastery, the hermit would then be called out of solitude so that he or she could be cared for.

St. Seraphim the Sarov was discovered badly beaten in his hermitage and was brought back to the monastery to be tended and spend the rest of his life (much to his displeasure!).  When Godric of Finchale became ill, the nearby monastery assigned a priest to go tend him until he improved.  Eventually, the monks took him in although he was not a religious but was a traditional, privately professed, consecrated hermit.

St. Paul of Thebes and St. Mary of Egypt were found dead in their cave cells.  St. Rosalia of Palermo was not discovered until four centuries had passed.  She appeared to a man in his dream and told where to find her relics in a cave; the purpose included a message that if the townspeople processed with her relics a terrible plague would end.  (And it did.)

It seems obvious (at least to me and hopefully to you, dear reader) the way of medical treatment in previous centuries.  Herbs, blood-letting, prayer, crude surgeries--these treatments summed up their options.  We can assume those who lived in solitude without much contact with outer world resorted to some desperate measures and then gave the results to God alone.

Recently, this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit has had some health issues more than the usual intractable spinal pain that radiates to various parts of the body.  There has been no capability to have health insurance for years due to loss of career and insurance and then being deemed uninsurable.  Since Medicare privilege was not far off, the past two years a fine was paid rather than sign for a government insurance program that was extremely costly with very high deductible.  Far less costly t pay the fine and pay one's own costs.

Hermits today do need to have their own source of financial sustenance.  We do not have the luxury of that blissful simplicity of what seems an envious stricter separation from the world.  We have to pay our taxes, pay our medical costs, pay for our bills required of anyone living in our times.  There is no place on earth we could just go and set up our hermitage such as in a cave--someone owns the land, even if government; laws and regulations constrain such freedom.

For me, my hermit life style has been formed all the more, year by year, by His Real Presence.  He provides the circumstances and situations of present moments.  As mentioned in previous post, an unexpected thumb wound did not respond to hermitage-remedies.  Computer technology helped secure diagnosis through a distant friend's daughter, an ER nurse.  I quickly became quite ill and had incorrect advice from an urgent care physician assistant; but the internet contact with the friend relaying to her daughter the symptoms, brought the warning to get to a hospital emergency room immediately.

Thankfully, I was yet able to drive there despite disorientation setting in.  It is quite a distance into civilization.  Immediate care was provided as the doctor knew what to do with IV, x-ray, blood tests, lancing the wound.  He did not think the splinter would come out and hospitalization would be necessary; but I thought to ask my angel, Beth, to assist the doctor.  Victory!  More antibiotics, dressings, splint, instructions to return immediately if any signs of worsening; return for recheck in 48 hours.

Then there was the matter of hospital personnel coming into the ER bay, asking for contact information.  I had none.  Surely you know someone in the area?  Well, I know the first names of the new neighbors, but they maintain strong boundaries; and the wife was going to be gone, and I'd not asked their permission.  We finally settled on someone hundreds of miles away.  It only provided the detail the employee needed to fill in the blank.

A few weeks ago this hermit had to go into a clinic to get medication refill scripts.  While there, I mentioned how very fatigued--and also the nausea that now occurs fairly regularly.  Was it from the consistent increase in pain that has persisted now since before Christmas?  Or was there something else going on with the body?  The doctor ordered blood tests.

Now, prior to receiving Medicare just prior to appointment, I would not have done the blood test due to costs.  But it seemed best to try to discern what is causing the fatigue and nausea...in case it was not radiating pain.  (I actually hoped it was something other so that either my time was drawing to a close on this earth and with this pained body, or I could do something such as some dietary change or take some medication--and, much better!)  

The results came.  All is normal.  It is the pain on the increase as I age.  What to do about that?  Meds were slightly increased, and the nausea is something this hermit now prays to embrace and adapt into the daily routine.  Thus far, the body has not been well enough to consistently be up daily.  Some days, yes, and I am trying to increase physical stamina.

Diet is the usual way I maintain health:  consume that which is simple, fresh, healthy.  Take whatever supplements are known to help, even if slightly, a body with constant pain.  Each morning the first food is a drink of dark greens, flax, coconut oil, fruit, cucumbers and water.  (I call it Green Glory.)  Drinking plenty of water is critical.  This past winter when in way too much pain, the body was on the mattress for extended periods of time; not enough water led to some dehydration.  So made myself drink more and keep better track, plus added some coconut water to the regimen.

It is rather amazing how living in such circumstances, that I've not needed more costly medical treatments--and then this sepsis poisoning came along.  Thanks be to God it all is working out, and for whatever reason, the Lord has me slowed down for now, unable to do much manual labor.  He handled the situation with timing perfection and the distant friend just happened to be visiting her daughter over the weekend.  I had just enough ability to drive self to hospital; by evening untreated, septic shock would have set in.  And, marvelous that after all this time, this happened soon after Medicare came to save the financial strain!

(Prior, for two shoulder surgeries, I had to use the now long-gone inheritance from my late parents.  Even so, if I'd not had Medicare, one can negotiate payments.  In fact, the hospital the other day gave me financial aid papers to fill out and mail in.  When the money is low, God provides.)

For other contemporary Catholic hermits (or hermits of any variety), their health and medical considerations depend upon where they live, what insurance they may have, their finances, their contacts, and the degree to which they have evolved in solitude and simplicity.

As to seeking medical treatment, I recognize that I have to tend and fix whatever can be tended and fixed.  Broken bone, blood poisoning (sepsis), pain issues, eye glasses, dental work (no more infections wanted!)--probably would forego hearing aids...!  I must keep functioning, doing the praying, the writing, the spiritual consulting, the listening and loving and encouraging of family, friends, strangers--and keep at the manual labor as long as the body is able.  We have that responsibility to keep our bodies operational as long as God desires and wills.

In my situation of such severe pain, since my family is reared and into adulthood, when and if I do contract a terminal illness, there will be no treatment other than whatever medication available to handle pain until death.  I have no idea where I would be--probably remain here the next year. (Am running out of money to sustain self and need more energy to finish the hermitage renovation.)  There is no money for long term health care.  A family member has offered that I could live with them, but that may not be best for them, depending upon stage of their lives.  A couple of long-time friends have offered a bedroom in their homes.  Of course, some accident such as falling off the pole barn roof might be a quick conclusion.

Yes, I have considered that while here, it could be a week or more before anyone would realize something had occurred.  One family member sends messages or calls within a week, and a childhood friend living a thousand miles away or more sends messages via her phone to my laptop.  After a few days she would be concerned, as would no doubt the daughter.

A young woman who has recently made contact had a dream that I died and was in here without anyone knowing.  She emailed her dream and thoughts, which of course were upsetting to her. But for me, I had recognized that real possibility a couple years ago when there was not the contact with family member or childhood friend--not often.  So I am used to that scenario, and it would be quite acceptable to me in this phase of my hermit vocation.  Solus Deus!

Yes, I felt quite secure the other day, as I felt His Real Presence was calmly guiding the aspects of the unexpected medical emergency.  I sensed my angel helping drive the truck and assisting the doctor with the little miracle of that piece of wood coming out unexpectedly, from the thumb joint.  Victory is the Lord's!

Part of the serenity of such health and medical matters is found in a recent grace--following the death of my will now four weeks ago this morning.

Last rites--or more accurately viaticum (Holy Communion prior to death)?  Some hermits in great solitude would unlikely receive them from a priest unless in a final illness that is known to others, or if the hermit is being tended by someone who would summon a priest near the end.  Having lived in more heightened solitude now, and grasping how the Lord is very present, making His abode in me more manifest (at least I sense and appreciate it more now), having viaticum and last rites is not really a concern. 

I know His Real Presence will provide in all things--especially in the passage of my soul from this body.  What a glorious experience and moment that will be!

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love God above all things (including the things that cause worry) and love one another as God loves us!

Zossima of Palestine, Hermit, and a Significant Rule

Have come upon another hermit.  St. Zossima--this particular Zossima--lived in the 6th century.  He lived many years in a monastery since being sent as a young child.  At a later point in his life, he felt he was not learning and growing spiritually.  

There was no other at the monastery to act as mentor as he had climbed there as far as he could, on the spiritual ladder.  It was not a matter of Zossima being conceited or deceived by his spiritual status.  He simply realized he had come to a plateau, or perhaps a ledge beyond the other monks.  At the time he realized this, he had a vision with locution telling him to go out farther into the desert where he would find another monastery.  There he would find spiritual guidance.

Zossima did indeed find the monastery with many elder monks, wise and proven in their holiness and closeness to God.  He noted their rule of life as significant.  The monks kept praise of God and prayer a constant factor, and they kept their hands busy.  But the key element of their rule was their not knowing anything about how their fellow monks were living their vocations.  

While the hermit monks would come into the monastery on Sunday to celebrate the sacred mysteries and join together in singing the Psalms, during the weekdays they would be out in the desert, praising, praying and working in solitude.  They were to remain solitary and not to notice nor consider nor inquire as to what their fellow monks were thinking or doing.

One day Zossima, having gone deeper into the desert and not having encountered another living being for some time, noticed what he thought a vision of someone in the distance.  As he drew closer, he realized it was not a vision but a woman, whose back was turned to him--but weathered and blackened from years in the desert sun.  There is much more to this segment of Zossima's life, but in short, she was Mary of Egypt from whom he learned much in spiritual friendship.

However, the point in this particular sharing Zossima's first segment of life in the monastery, is that of his coming to a spiritual plateau and recognizing that fact.  Not often do we read of holy persons who outright admit that they have evolved beyond what others in their immediate circle of influence and direction, can teach them.  Perhaps it seems prideful to speak it.  

Yet, obviously many have and do come to that point in their spiritual lives, for we know of saint after saint whose lives took a turn and in which a change was necessary for them to continue to grow and learn, to climb farther the stairway to heaven.  Most do not explain why, not as Zossima humbly admits in his straightforward way--an honesty which some then and today might misconstrue as being prideful. Who does he think he is--thinking he had learned beyond the others in the first monastery and had no one more advanced than him to guide and teach?  In truth, it was the reality and fact.

Perhaps the reality of Zossima's self-assessment and resultant leaving to go deeper into the desert, to find others who were beyond him in the spiritual life, and then later to go out yet farther where he encountered Mary of Egypt, is what each of us ought consider for ourselves at key points in our lives.

Perhaps that is why certain aspects no longer challenge us. Perhaps we are being led further, to seek more, and to find means by which His Real Presence is teaching us when previous conveyors of spiritual instruction are no longer as effective.  It does make sense, all this.  Would God (or man) have us remain in sixth-grade for years and years?  Would we be held in place while running a race, or held part-way through?  Would we train for something, never to attempt again to exceed or desire to excel?

Zossima's simple self-awareness and honest admission that he had learned all he could at the first monastery, brought the needed guidance from God.  Zossima was to cast out into the deep, to move on to where he would find those who were advanced in holiness beyond his current companions and way of life.  He learned from the next monks and plumbed yet more depths of the spiritual life.  Then he was led farther and to the discovery of one (Mary of Egypt) who challenged and taught and showed him even more of God.

Nothing Catholic hermit very much senses that His Real Presence leads it in this way.  The coinciding of learning about Zossima and how he recognized and admitted he had come to a spiritual growth plateau and this hermit's sensing similar, brings assurance to venture further, deeper.

The examples of this sensing, if written here, would be criticized as rude, prideful, and disrespectful of conventional ways and means.  Rather, it is simply this hermit's recognition, yet in a faithful sense, that His Real Presence moves the soul ever onward.  Still in one aspect of the spiritual life, is helpful in knowing why certain aspects in this nothing hermit's life no longer challenge or produce the growth it knows possible, and beckons it to cast out into the deep--yet deeper and deeper--not knowing quite where.  But not to go back and to not fear nor grieve the severing.  Does not Jesus teach us the good of pruning?

This hermit also takes it to heart what a significant aspect of a rule of life, to not be concerned with what others are doing and if and how much and when they are progressing in their ascent to God.  Would someone rappelling a sheer face of rock be looking over or down or up to see how and what other people are doing?

Another aspect that impacts this hermit, is noting how St. Zossima did not waiver in nor doubt the vision and locution telling him to leave where he was stagnating and go on to where he would find those more advanced who could teach him.  He was not told to humble himself and remain unchallenged.  Sometimes it takes more humility to let go of what no longer is helpful for any number of reasons, and in faith, cease the current status:  Cast out into the deep.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another for God wills us to love!