I know I should not find humor in certain situations, but I do. Humor is a gift from God, but humor of human foibles, I'm not so sure. Yet I am having quite a chuckle over a situation in which the seeming reality defies the odds; and in fact, the seeming reality is not fact, not reality. Rather the situation is simply bizarre, and in that fact of bizarre, the humor is in seeing through the human foibles. Notably, I suspect the foibles are fueled by narcissism and pride that belies a hidden or deep insecurity.
My confessor asked me to try to figure out what it is that exacerbates a situation--a bizarre situation, at that: bizarre agreed upon by many. I think it has to do with narcissism and pride, and that I have been a stimulus to causing another or others to feel a type of threat to their status and threat to their sense of importance. But what I'm fascinated by, is that I bother with it. Praying is the best resolve.
Yet, is absolutely and humorously amazing--but foolish waste of my giving it time of day--that what I happen to write, the other always seems to have "supposed" people writing in, asking questions of this other person. The questions are so detailed and specially worded as if coached on what to ask in order to for the one being asked (as if a temporal Church authority) to expound upon--again, amazingly--in lengthy dissections (always refuting) of what I've written.
Yes, it is rather miraculous; and I and others who've bothered to read what the person writes, tend to see right through it. And that makes me chuckle, until then I feel rather sad. Maybe I feel even guilty, although it is certainly not my intention of causing the person/s to get embroiled in what might be considered their weakness for argumentation. Nonetheless, it does seem that most of what I've written over the years has in some point or other, caused the person (and also amazingly--maybe one or two of the person's friends or such if at all--to feel threatened by what I write; or perhaps its been something about me otherwise, that threatens the person's or others' status and sensibilities.
So while some of their tactics are humorous to myself and others who are aware of this, the situation itself is rather sad from a soulful and Christian perspective. I'm not sure what is the solution, other than to pray. Also, I must look to myself to not get sucked into the vortex of what it is that underlies another's psyche and causes obsessive behavior, and takes focus off a consecrated Catholic hermit's purpose and point: imitation of Christ to a deeper degree that befits our being in the consecrated state of life of the Church. Live out what the Church states in §920, §921 of The Catechism. Reflect on and of my hermit vocation, what the popes and the holy hermits, saints, and mystics of the Church have written!
Perhaps if I write of what my mind, heart, and soul most desire--and of what sets me afire with love of God in Himself and love of others as God loves, I will be a far better impetus for others who read what I write. Perhaps, but unlikely, I could also help change the course (for the better) for the one or two or three who read my writing for the purpose of trying to find any tiny tidbit that can be twisted or refuted or a springboard for obsessing further on the temporal aspects, which then fuel more of less spiritual and more into-the-weeds mindsets. But all this is up to others' bishops or designated spiritual fathers to determine and guide.
As for myself, my human foible needs to hunker down into the humus, into the soil of my consecrated hermit vocation. Progress made, for at some point in not-too-distant future, I will have concrete answers from my diocese superior, my Bishop, as to the more temporal-type questions I've posed (but temporal always interrelates with and is affected by the spiritual-mystical Church).
Onward, though, for this as-for-now-yet-still consecrated Catholic hermit: I must keep pointing the way to God's law, not man's law: God's Law of Love! What the Lord desires me to write is of other than getting into the weeds of what matters not other than what one's Bishop determines, anyway, relative to hermit designation, who is or is not in the consecrated life of the Church, and what the bishop desires for hermits within the diocese of which He is Shepherd. Not for some other diocese's hermit to fret over; but I hope in God to share what I find out, since my writing is of my ongoing spiritual journey in temporal life, a consecrated, privately professed, Catholic hermit (might add "traditional" to the hermit descriptor). Or, perhaps it won't be necessary to share, if nothing needs changing. I realize the only person ( with perhaps a couple of that person's friends) have any interest or axe to grind.
Worth a try. I ought to be writing about what my heart desires, regardless. At some point, I will receive definitive answers from Church hierarchy, for the answer to but one point that I personally am interested in, that also might be of interest to other consecrated Catholic hermits living our vocations along the paths of the traditional, historical, solitary, first hermits of the Church.
Yesterday as I read a meditation of Bl. Charles de Foucauld, and was reminded of his Prayer of Abandonment, my mind took a stroll down memory lane. My heart began to sing within, and my soul uplifted with added joy, remembering the deep stirrings that truly blessed, spiritual, and love-inflamed souls of the hermit life as well as any of the saints and mystics--how they uplift, teach, guide, inspire in us consecrated Catholic hermits today!
The Lord in the night took me through a type of sample "life review" of my final judgment, and I was allowed to feel deeply how my long-ago and forgotten mistakes and weaknesses with someone most dear to me, felt and perhaps still carries some feelings of great hurt. I literally felt what this person felt, and the person in the strange spiritual experience in the night faced me and told me, with much emotion, how I hurt the person in person's youth. At one point, I wanted to defend myself, explain from my perspective, as I was much older than the person with the yet-hurt memories. But rather, something held me back; and I accepted what was being said so emotively and even somewhat angrily from the pain of the hurt they felt I caused.
And indeed, I did cause that hurt! At some level, it is true, for how others perceive is very real to them. Just as, to us, how we perceive is very real to us. The Lord allowed me to simply take what I was being told, and to feel the person's hurt from memories of the past, who were still very real from that person's injured and wounded perspective and reality. And I could feel them with all the pain and horror, and I sobbed in a way of deep remorse and sorrow at how this beloved person recalled and felt from early on. And somewhere inside me, I knew that it was true, that this person's perspective was real and had hurt, and that I would never be able to have a do-over.
I suspect this is part of our review of life format, when we die, and it was fair and even loving, and it was quite merciful. This morning I have prayed that what I experienced in the night, and the remorse such as I could not feel so deeply in the temporal realm, would be in part effective for the other person, now years later, and that today somehow that person is feeling lighter in spirit, and that the pain is relieved or at least lessened, and the person more freed from past hurts that became wounds unhealed. I pray that my--really was not of this world, so deep, so visceral into my very soul--remorse is in some way a remittance of my even a small portion of my sins.
The whole spiritual-mystical aspect of the night experience, seems as if the Lord allowed me, truly, a portion in this life, of what will be numerous such reviews when I enter into my final judgment with Jesus, going through no doubt many such life situations and my part and role in them. Some, and many no doubt, will be ones that at the time I did not even realize how I was affecting others, causing them hurt and distress. Some, and quite a few at that, will be ones I will recognize immediately, but I pray that confession in this life, and sacramental absolution, and penance plus trying to make amends, or the suffering of living with consequences, will mitigate many of these known-to-me sins and woundings of others.
But as for humor in situations, and humor at our human foibles--humor is a gift from God. We do need humor, and to not take ourselves or others so seriously. Humor allows us to step back, to see through situations for what they are in a light-hearted way, and to ask the Lord what it is He wants of us for and in His Divine Will.
All the more we can laugh at ourselves and at situations that the devil so cleverly (yet laughably) tries to get us sucked into, and down the rabbit hole we go in ridiculous situations and encounters that ultimately we realize are frivolous. It is like playing ping-pong but finding ourselves not even hitting the ball on the table, but rather having moved off-course and hitting the ball back and forth in thin air. When we realize how silly, we stop playing the game and have a good laugh. I absolutely delight in when the laugh is on me; for so often the Lord will show me my foibles! Praise Him! Love Him!
Life goes on. And now I must see if the body will want to continue in some manual labor after praying the Divine Office. I may be able to sit on the tall, wood chair at counter-height table, to pray the Prayers of the Church (Divine Office, on this Feast of St. Agatha), or if the body needs to remain in bed. I did a bit much manual labor yesterday, so a very slow morning, physically, is not unexpected. And I rejoice that I'm not complaining of pain! Rather, I'm praising God for the gift of humor!
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