Catholic Christian Mystic Hermit: A Man Chosen as Christ Would Choose: Gregory

 This man is for today, celebrated on January 4, as well, and from within the first five centuries.  I note how simple and cost-free was his being consecrated a bishop "for his virtues."  Must be after the first five centuries that matters became contrived, monetary, false, and not really blessed as what Christ taught and desired by His own life and ways of doing and being, a simple call to the apostles to go to all thew world and spread the good news, and a simple breaking of bread and drinking of wine prayerfully, in remembrance of Him.  

Christ taught love of God and love of others and gave many examples of this in his teachings and parable, in his examples.  He and His teaching and example to us is His Church, not all this other.  And those who adhere to His teaching and example are in Him.  Not the temporal church and what it has become.  

How refreshing to think of a widower with great virtues being asked to be a bishop by the people who knew him best, and due to his life example.  Not a priest first, not climbing his way up the church corporation ladder, no politicized or despotic aspects, no weak or sick or perverted young or old man.  Simply made a bishop due to his life of virtues, proven by years and chosen, asked, by those people around him where he lived who had known him.

SAINT GREGORY
Bishop
(† c. 541)

        St. Gregory was one of the principal senators of Autun and a widower after the death of his wife. At the age of fifty-seven, he was consecrated bishop of Langres for his virtues. He governed the See with admirable prudence and zeal for thirty-three years, sanctifying his pastoral labors with humility, prayer and mortification of the senses.

        An incredible number of idolaters and pagans were converted by him; and worldly or materialistic Christians rejected Satan by correcting their personal disorders.

        St. Gregory passed away after the feast of the Epiphany in 541. Out of devotion to St. Benignus, he was buried near that Saint's tomb at Dijon.

Christian Mystic Hermit Catholic: Difficulty Writing; Hand Surgery Soon

 My right hand is in need of surgery which will happen in a week unless moved up sooner.  The knee needs replacing but hoping to get it drained again and another injection of steroid as it seems best to address the more urgent of the two body parts. And then either before or after a knee replacement, the neck needs major surgery and thus nothing to jump into until pain down the arms and into hands and in neck is unbearable. For now, the hand is at the point of losing strength and function, thus the neurosurgeon said it is in the urgent category.

I might do some videos since writing is painful and difficult, exacerbating the hand pain.

This is the life of a victim soul of the Sacred Heart of Jesus--a suffering servant, and I'm reminding myself that pain of all types is to be met with perseverance in reliance upon His Real Presence, and at this point also accepting the various surgeries due to injuries of the past--drunk driver and employee who was not keeping a water hose unlooped and flat on a floor, out of the way where customers such as me could trip and fly and hit the concrete, thus causing permanent knee damage.

Always in the world is the element of injustice, such as the drunk teen who was not arrested, who hit me 37 years ago causing permanent back and neck problems, or the store employee who did not keep a watering hose flat nor away from me who did not see it and foot caught, body flew and hit concrete causing permanent knee damage.  And the legal system does not necessarily provide justice nor remuneration; it becomes quite ugly.  As James writes in his Epistle, keep oneself unstained by the world.

I remind myself in all these years of constant pain, that it could be so much worse.  That is true, and in circumstances including emotional and spiritual pain, yes, I've been through far worse in some instances than the surgeries I face--the neck surgery the most serious and painful of all.

All else is well--the mind, heart, and soul--as well as an imperfect human can be, but is well due to His Real Presence in His glory and love is within and I am within His Real Presence.  Praise and love to the Holy Trinity!

Love in His Love, and God bless His Real Presence in us!

Mystic's 2009 Post on Challenges of Fitting into Temporal

Follow naked the naked Christ.  Am stripping and being stripped.  Being taken through the mystic portal is realized in nakedness.  Am not there yet but en route. 

The only verbal portion of Mass I recall today is a temporal intrusion in the priest's comments about a boy he spoke with  who told him excitedly about basketball players--their stats in detail.  The priest said he remained quiet and listened.  But this morning he told about the boy and the conversation, and had plenty to critique.  He said instead of talking about the details of basketball players' lives and playing successes, did the boy care or know all about Christ, our Creator?  

We all get the point.  But here is an example for my spiritual director who wants to know what it is about me that brings situations of rejection by others.  I know one huge facet, and that is: Coals have been put to my lips.  I speak.  I write.  I observe, learn and act on what comes from within to without.  

I would not have just listened to the boy, later talk about it to a chapel full of people.  I would have listened to the boy, then thanked him for giving me an idea for my life, and that is to eagerly learn all the stats I can about Jesus and to be even more excited about God than about ball players or whatever is my earthly interest.  I might have later shared gained insights from the boy's excitement and knowledge of ball players, or maybe not.  As it stood, the boy did not benefit at all from what the priest could have shared with him.  A seed that could have been fruitfully planted was not.  

Sunday morning I listened to a man talk anxiously about Green Ash beetles  destroying his trees and another beetle that might destroy his other trees; and a woman spoke excitedly of a forum she is attending [that in some countries has been classified a cult and psychologically dangerous]. I then shared what was on my mind: The dream about being given Baby Jesus to tend and rear, and now praying about how to do that in daily life.

The woman attending the mind-control forum said  I should not have shared my dream or vision, whatever.  She also told me that when saints were mistreated (I had been injured during Mass by a man wrenching my shoulder for the third time in three weeks), they said such as, "I deserve that!"  

I told her directly that: 1. I do not want to be a Catholic saint; 2. We have more than enough saints already of all walks of life, centuries, cultures, countries and continents; and 3. Canonization is far too costly now, time consuming, and unnecessary since we have plenty of saints to emulate.  

In the process of being stripped, I am challenged to get to the naked truth of my naked self and soul.  It is not all that lovely.  But I have discovered that in trying to fit in to some mold of holiness or a holy personage, that there are so many molds--one cannot pick, choose, imitate and become this one or that.  

Be thyself.  This self feels coals on the lips, speaks searing words and writes raw realities.  My (bishop) spiritual director wants to discover how I can be utilized by the Church.  He repeats I have so many beautiful gifts and talents. Yes, it is frustrating, but frustration helps me see reality: The Church does not need "my" gifts and talents, and his view is stuck at how the gifts (and me with them) should be plugged into a temporal Catholic world utilization.

A block of chilled jello could more easily be sucked through a drinking straw than to fit someone like me into a temporal Catholic venue, wonderful as they are.  Ah, more raw truth in myself; pray to accept it.  I have been tempted with desire to be a part of that world, to have a temporally useful place in the Church or worthy project.  But even clearance to bake muffins for a coffee-donut event met with a week of gaining a nun's (who resents my one, mystic grace she's observed in Mass) and also rector's permissions: institutional obstacles. 

I am supposed to pray and ask God what it is about me that creates the scenarios of rejection, or whatever one may call it.  The answer lies within the spirit, the soul, the assignment of the soul in this life here on earth.  And consider the assignment of the soul for eternity, of which the soul is being trained while on this earth.

This soul is more a garden tag describing for anyone willing to take time to browse and ponder in the gardens, what one may discover in the immense variety of trees and plant life found plotted and potted in an otherwise smallish subdivision lot.  

I can tell you there are few to none who have come browsing my soul.  But there might be browsers some day, or maybe not.  I have ceased inviting, although some curious might want to come; curious in comes motive out.

Someone dear to me says I should have pursued canonical approval as a hermit.  I say it is more naked this way, with no one adding yet more scrutiny and expectation based upon temporal Catholic world perceptions of what a hermit is or is not.  Besides, I'm God's hermit; He chose it for me, wisely so.  The current church climate is more external of the past in hopes of reconstructing saints and symbols of yore.  The outer does not the inner make.

I must follow naked the naked Christ.  Look around.  See the totally impractical gardens.  I told my cousin (waiting for a new leg) that I recall five years ago a grumpy gazebo builder who would not agree to place the gazebo where I wanted it, so I was not going to go through with the project.  As I wrote a farewell check for building permits filed, he sneeringly said what I had in mind for landscaping was going to be "A LOT OF WORK." 

I smiled and said:  I LIKE WORK.  Now I wonder.  It is work to live in temporally one's mystic self made in God's image. But I must  live liking work; life is very much work.  All of it.  The gardens: No one in his or her right mind would develop gardens such as these in an ordinary subdivision and even less would buy this place that provides yet more pain for someone with a constantly painful body.  

The harp:  The pain of sitting makes practice all the more foolish, but is one of the main goals for entertaining Baby Jesus.  So why now be tempted to finish  a temporal counseling degree when I have finished degrees unused from the temporal world of degrees? 

Years ago the Lord spoke in a way that Dr. H. tape-recorded.  We were told I should stop viewing from above but rather perceive and understand from beneath.  And also that much will be shown me and more, for the espousal of others.  I later looked up that word: espousal.  Archaic meaning is to wed.  And that has significance.  But it more fully defined means: to make a cause one's own, to take it up, to take up the cause.

At another time, I was told that I must drink deeply of the chalice.  And that I would write; yes I would write much, and I would teach.  Teach?  Yes. I would teach men and women how to stabilize their emotions through spirituality.

I am not one to blindly follow nor do I like to be followed.  But Christ, yes, I follow, and now I am learning to tend the Baby Jesus.  Not all that well do I tend Him but am trying; it is a full time job.  And as I commented to my spiritual director when he asked me to pray about what it is I need to change and what is God's will and how to be utilized, I said I want to write something so that no one else will endure what I've fumbled painfully as a Catholic.  I want others to live the mystic life courageously, successfully.

Following naked the naked Christ means a transparency that stuns and makes others uncomfortable. It can be rather shocking for oneself, at first, and can also seem to break the expectation of how a holy person ought to appear, do, think.  To follow naked Christ's nakedness, one must learn to exist in love and truth being in the buff.

 

Catholic Mystic/Hermit/Victim Soul: Ideal Writing of St. Raphael Baron for Today

I've had to hire a man, hourly, who does a bit of everything, with windows and doors his specialties.  My back is "toast" other than I one-by-one carry out boards not needed and do basic clean up, remove trim, cut out bits of drywall to prepare for "Ryan" to then come to remove windows and doors for replacements.  I am up for short bits of time, then back on the bed for long stretches.

We need another outlet box as one-thing-leads-to-another when putting in a sliding door to patio.  A light switch for outdoor light will be of benefit there.  As gopher-worker, I will go to Home Depot for the electrical box when I head to the lab across the road from the store, for a spine x-ray.  Have a follow-up appointment with neurosurgeon tomorrow; I suppose he is making sure all is well in from the extensive surgery he did over a year ago. This is in preparation for another neurosurgeon in his group to surgically implant the Medtronic Intrathecal Pain Pump in nine days!  Oct. 22--seems a good day being that of the Feast of Pope St. John Paul II and several other fine holy men and women.

However, either the oral meds I've had to take for a few years, or being in bed too much due to severe pain or it is the Arachnoiditis starting to mess with my bladder (already has affected intestines), I've been having problems.  Test results still are not coming back normal, and day after tomorrow I have to see a urologist PA; my internal med doctor wanted me to see the specialist, but this particular medical group keeps returning me to the PA instead of the doctor. So I'll go this one time, but I had a major victory for which I thanked the Virgin Mary and Jesus, and got into a urologist with excellent reviews who is an independent doctor.  No opening before the surgery so will go to the PA if antibiotics needed, which they might be.  I cannot have the pump surgery (which now seems past-due given the troubles occurring with other organs) if I have infection going on within.

My spiritual life has been calm and peaceful since pulling the plug on parish and diocese involvements.  Due to my mystical ecstasies during Masses and the pain situation and the added issues that go with Arachnoiditis which are on-going and exhausting, watching Masses through my laptop window-to-the world and joining in with rosaries as desired.  Peaceful sometimes, just holding my rosary as holding the hand of Mary, and listening, the mind flowing along with the priest leading. I've found one with a most lovely voice....

The following writing by Raphael Arnaiz Baron--just hit the spot today, and sums up the current status here.  I might rewrite it rather than the cut-and-paste effect, but for now, here it is!

And, as usual, I pray: God bless His Real Presence in us! 

Saint Raphael Arnaiz Baron (1911-1938)

Spanish Trappist monk

Spiritual writings, 04/03/1938 (trans. Mairin Mitchell, 1964)

"Give alms, and behold, everything will be clean for you"

God is in the unfettered heart, in the silence of prayer, the willing sacrifice to suffering in the rejection of the world and its creatures. God is in the Cross, and as long as we do not love the Cross we shall not see him, we shall not feel him. Let those who are only concerned with making a noise, keep silent! Ah Lord, how happy I am in my retreat! How much I love you in my solitude! How much I would like to offer you what I haven't got, for I have already given you all! Ask me, Lord, but what have I to give you? My body – it is yours already; my soul – Lord, for whom shall it crave but you, longing for you to take it once and for all. My heart, it is at the feet of Mary, shedding tears of love, of love for you only. My will? Perhaps, Lord, I want what you don't wish? Tell me, tell me, Lord, what is your will and I will place mine at your side. I love everything that you send me and everything that you command of me, health as much as sickness, to be here as much as to be there, to be one thing as much as another; my life, take it, Lord, when you will. How could we not be happy like this? If the world and mankind only knew (…) But they won't know, they're much too occupied with their affairs, their hearts are full of things which are not God. The world lives very much for earthly ends; people give themselves up to the illusions of this life in which all is vanity, and so they can't find that real happiness which is the love of God. Perhaps they will come to understand, but to experience that happiness they must live it. And there are very few, even among Religious, who surrender themselves to take up his cross (Mt 16:24). Lord, the things that you permit! Your wisdom will know the reason for this; take me by the hand and suffer not my feet to slip, for if you don't do this, who will help me? And “if you don't build” (Ps 127[126]:1) (…) Ah Lord, how I love you! When will it be, Lord?

Catholic Mystic, Hermit, Victim Soul: I have died for the Lord!

"For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord's."  ~ Romans 14:8

The above truth, spoken by St. Paul, is the summation of my life at this point.  

Had a horrific spinal headache a week ago Thursday.  Also, I noticed an infection I'm blessed to now have had until this time.  It took until Sunday morning to get to urgent care, and a kindly, young nurse practitioner (NP) prescribed an antibiotic based on test result showed a type of infection.

By the next Thursday I was not better.  Called the doctor and was blessed to be allowed a virtual appointment--too sick to do that effort plus drive to pharmacy as I knew I'd need another antibiotic. Turns out the NP had it wrong--wrong antibiotic prescribed. Have been on the better antibiotic now into the fifth and last day.  Still have symptoms and feel "punk".  

Today I called the doctor's office, and while that doctor was off today,  But his nurse aide or such received back instructions to come in and be seen by those at the clinic or go to urgent care.  The latter is out of the question given this was the fourth time of not good experience there, and it is a dozen or more times of bad experience with NP's and PA's.  There is no comparison of a doctor's years of study and practicum in internship and residency years compared to someone with essentially a master's degree or less.  

Only an NP and a PA were available today.  I will see a doctor tomorrow at an opening with an MD.  Such is the on-going life of suffering here--and one must laugh, really, at the unfortunate situations to which I seem to be prone.  By now, the proper antibiotic is making me ill with side effects, but I have an arsenal of medications here, including anti-nausea prescription med and of course, pain meds.

I want to feel better, Lord, if and when you are ready for me to feel better.

I've considered why God allows this situation?  What will it take in antibiotics to improve?  A lot of these days and weeks are a blur anyway! What more? 

So I've considered that God wants deeper conversion of me. I feel guilt for distracting myself with online distractions of news and sometimes an Amazon Prime video.  Of the former, I have more than enough details of situations and persons for which to pray.  Of the latter, since I select videos that often take me far away to another country with beautiful scenery and lilting accents of the actors' voices, I praise God for being able to be far from my room, my bed, my added suffering with the infection on top of all the Adhesive Arachnoiditis pain.

Had to cancel the pain doctor appointment yet again.  I did not think I'd be up for getting to that appointment tomorrow early morn, driving through heavier traffic, plus to go to the Internal Medicine doctor and likely to the pharmacy for more antibiotics.

As to my deeper conversion, I'm participating in an online 54-day rosary being prayed by a priest somewhere.  I missed the first four days of it; God understands my pain status and fog.  Maybe He is laughing along with me because Saturday morning I tried to register to vote online.  It kept coming up as not showing my registration after; so I tried again, and then again, thinking I needed to include my middle initial or middle name.  Than scouring over what I could have possibly done wrong, I notice the small print:  May take up to 24 hours for the registration to be reflected.

This morning in addition to the doctors' (and NP's and PA's mostly) clinic, I called the state election office phone number.  The person found my three attempts and readily accepted my reason for the three.  I was not committing voter fraud, in other words.  No arrest and no $5,000 fine.  I told the person on the phone that I should not try to register online when in so much pain and suffering!  It will now take another three days, as my three attempts must be sent on to another office for someone to clean up the mess.

My deeper conversion is rooted in the recognition, more deeply, that I have died. Again, "For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord's (Rm 14:8).  I am bodily alive, and that body lives for God.  I have died for the Lord, and I am the Lord's.

The isolation becomes more so in any type of personal effect.  One person emails a short summation of a saint, or such as today, a paragraph or so about the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.  I respond and add in a little personal; I am still a person here on earth even if but marginally and hidden away all the more.  Another person emails every four days or so and gives short summary of that person's few days "doings."  A third person emails about once a week with a concise summary of a few of that person's activities.

I've had to accept that there is "too much water of the dam" for now, with one family member; another has been remote for a long time.  Another texts now and then, once a week or less, but it is at least a connection with someone known.  Otherwise, my connectivity is through this little laptop window to the world, of which some readers and one yesterday left comments suggesting that somehow my writing has some worth to their own experiences--in suffering or in mystical experiences and my example of the progression of mystical spiritual life as well as thoughts on how can evolve.  How it might evolve.

This morning and yesterday I was thinking of the parish priest.  I wanted to email just a couple lines, include the words above of St. Paul.  There is another Scripture the apostle wrote that so applies to what I know of myself on this side of the mystic portal--no longer in the temporal other than bodily.

"For through the law I died to the law, that I might live for God.  I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given Himself up for me"  ~ Galations 2:19-20.

These words, this thought, is so real and true and is my reality now, that a separate post will better describe what is this actual, living death.

Yes, I wanted to email the priest of the parish of which I was on their membership rolls until I made the stamp of acceptance to Jesus that I finally grasp that I needed to literally take all his message to me 8 years ago.  Even though it does seem to go against common sense and human laws--I see here that I have died to the law that I might live for God.  I have died to the 1752 canon laws that were created by well-intentioned people, and these laws provide structure for the Church and the Body of Christ.  

But they are not those of Christ the Head but rather are for the temporal Body.  What is occurring with me is natural and for everyone at some point in the infinity of our minds', hearts', and souls' existence. From the point of God imparting the spark of Himself as our soul implanted in us in our mother's wombs, we begin the process of infinite existence traversing through the temporal world and on into the mystical of all eternity.

Dying to this temporal world is not by our own choosing any more than we do not choose to be mystics,, choose to be victim souls, or choose to be hermits.  Despite my wanting to tell the priest that my emails were my frustrated agonies of the death throes, of wanting him to hear my voice.  I have watched and listened to his video chats to the parishioners in which he mentions talking on the phone with his friends--talking of cul-de-sac get togethers with neighborhood to social distance and talk with others as a social event so good for people's emotional health and support--to have some fun.  I have heard him mention other interactions with friends, including a podcast he and a parishioner friend are doing I think daily.

In that, I somehow thought he might want to read some of what I was sharing that was not all frustration but were thoughts, my voice in email of insights, even, that I hoped he might "hear."  But I realized he was not reading before his secretary let me know he does not read them. And this reality is why I likely will not even email either of the Scriptures above, short as they are.  

The point is, I have truly died to the law of parishes and dioceses; I have died by crucifixion with Christ and it is no longer I who live but Christ in me.  I no longer live, not I; I have died for the Lord and live as dead, but for the Lord.  And this truth is a temporal reality, an every day and every night reality now!  Living as dead, my life on earth is more dead than alive, more alive in God and for God.  Temporally dead to this world in more than contacts; it is dead in desire and wanting anything of the temporal.  My appetite for temporal life has died; my hunger for God has come all the more alive.

So I remain strong.  I wait.  I pay no attention to what parishioners and priests of this world represent--not depreciating the vast good they have done and do and will do in the world amidst the wondrous flocks and ordained religious shepherds.  I am to have nothing to do with them despite their good, active, and spiritually striving lives in the temporal realm; am to ignore them, and to, again, remain strong until Jesus returns to take me fully with Him.

I have died.  And I'm sifting through what is that "I" who died but without dwelling over much about that I who died.  I can do all things of mind, heart, and soul just as I was able to in the death experience or in the mystical ecstasies in Mass, His Real Presence in proximity to my body, mind, heart, and soul.  I wonder if there will come a time here in my room and on my bed, that God will take me into Himself in that type of phenomenon while watching Mass online?  Or is that not necessary now that I have passed through the mystic portal?

And who is the only one who really wants to hear my voice?  God alone!  His Real Presence in me:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit of whom I am in the Trinity.  God knows my voice. He knows the thoughts and insights for the Holy Spirit implants them.  Jesus hears his Beloved child, my every thought, feeling, emotion, desire, sorrow.  He knows the love I have thought is mine to give is His to give, for I have died and it is not me who lives but I in Christ.  It is God's love in Himself that is in me if I but accept and release, embrace and let it flow.

God bless His Real Presence in us, in all of us who are yet alive in the temporal and those of us who have died--died to the world even if at times visible, but remain mostly unseen and unheard to others who cannot hear the dead ones' voices.

I have died for the Lord!  I'm in the Lord!

Catholic Hermit, God's Hermit: Continue to Live the Life

Awaking to rain and pain.  The severe nerve pain is drizzling and dripping, with occasional stabbing.  It seems as if my days and nights have become perpetual crucifixion.  What more can I give my Beloved Lord and His Church?

Remain in His Love.

I had not realized just how much of the past trials with their rejections would be ripped open all over again in flashbacks brought vividly to the present.  Even the thought of a third party, non cleric, to meet and discern and advise--it loomed in my pain as an ordeal that would surely result in scrutiny, judging, and rejection.

As I try to absorb by re-reading what my bishop has written to me, his words seem kindly, wise, sensible, accurate, and merciful.  He asks of me to continue to live the life I am obviously called to live.  He writes that the canon law is an "official" recognition; it does not speak to the validity of one's calling.  I do not need a particular title to live a life called by God to which I am living.

So the bishop is not asking me to relinquish my hermit vocation, profession, or vows.  He states I am to continue living the life to which I'm obviously called.  Yes, I am living it as best this imperfect mortal with an immortal soul can live it, for now.  But I have not lived it as well as I could have.  Always room for improvement here or on into the other side until I come to fullness of and in Christ's Light: Divine Union fully, perfectly, eternally.

I realize how much this painful, on-going crucifixion is interfering with the ability to process in the mind exactly what my bishop means other than by the help of the Holy Spirit by the peacefulness of the words written.  I'm thankful.  I will continue to live the life to which I am obviously called.

It is a life of much suffering, of being united to Christ in suffering with Him, in Him, one in Him on the cross.  And being one in and with Him, that is solus Deus, only God, God alone.  A hermit.  A Catholic hermit victim soul of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  A mystic of Christ and His Church who knows not from one moment to the next yet told by God my order is the Order of the Present Moment, my habit what I happen to be wearing at the present moment.

I'm wearing and have been, the pajamas that had been my late earthly dad's.  Might seem odd, but after his passing nearly 19 years ago, my mother was trying to distract by busying in going through some of his clothing and a few other items in their downscaled assisted living apartment in a lovely Arizona facility where they had retired years prior.  There was a fairly new pair of pajamas that were his; she commented she'd just hemmed them to adjust with his height-decreasing with age.  That and his hammer that had been his father's before him--somehow each item seemed meaningful to me.

Yes, odd, perhaps, but the hammer gave me strength and assurance when I found myself a few years ago having to gut an old farmhouse and renovate in order to be able to sell and move from that arduous existence. The pajamas had remained packed with most all else.  The other day I found them amidst summer-weight night-clothing.  The elastic of waist has weakened given the age; but I donned these pajamas and prayed, "Dad, I need some of your sensibility and strength."

I suppose the prayer surely answered.  Late yesterday made myself get out of bed and remove a light fixture from upstairs' bathroom so as to be able to remove the remaining drywall and get it into the trash container for this morning's collection and pick-up.  Practical to fill the large bin on wheels provided by the refuse department.  I thought of my dad and smiled at my connecting a tangible item with probably some DNA remaining in the fibers of the cotton; and despite the pain and weakness of my body, God granted me the fortitude to do what otherwise would be a minor task for one without the pain and weakness.  God provides.

Will I be able to be out of bed today?  I have no idea.  Thus far the pain level over two hours after taking the tedious-to-me pain meds (for which I thank God, of course) is still very high.  Been a nerve-burning, aching, and occasionally stabbing type pain that depletes and fatigues even after a night of blessed sleep.  I will try to be more out of bed today, perhaps get dressed in a tee shirt and jeans.

Whether or not that occurs--getting up from bed and dressing in clothing that might lead to some small amount of manual labor--I will simply keep going, and to continue to live the life to which I am obviously called.  It is that of Christ's life, of remaining in His love always, of doing and being in the Order of the Present Moment with any number of identifying titles including Catholic hermit, victim soul, mystic-- and knowing that only God validates such titles.

Here's another odd thing.  Just now came two excerpts--one from John (de Yepes) of the Cross' Dark Night of the Soul and the other from Faustina Kowalska's Diary.  I've not heard from the hermit-priest in awhile.  The two selections are absolutely perfection in content as to the degree of suffering I am living out in this present moment, and the focusing the hermit-priest provides through these two excerpts are from God Himself.  I know it.  Praise God for the hermit-priest sending these quotes, these words with Holy Spirit touches-of-grace, encouragement, and power.

I know Jesus is affirming me in that I chose what God wills.  It is what the Bishop was affirming in the email yesterday.  It is what the Holy Spirit had the hermit-priest send me just now from St. John of the Cross and St. Faustina.  God is using this hermit-priest in unexpected way, breaking through on this particular painful morning.  Thank you, Jesus! I remain in Your love and trust in You!

My calling:  Focus on Jesus!  Not at all an official recognition of canon law, my calling.  I don't need that.

Surely Jesus' body--even His feet--hurt like these feet on the ends of pained legs hurt, here, now.  If I focus on the pain of this body, will it be the same as meditating on Jesus' suffering, crucified body?  Yes, I am convinced this is so.  It's all connected:  my body and His Body, my love and His Love, my life and His Life.

"The reason the soul not only travels securely when in obscurity, but also makes greater progress, is this:  in general the soul makes greater progress in the spiritual life when it least things so, yes, when it rather imagines it is losing everything....  There is another reason why the soul has traveled safely in this obscurity, it has suffered:  for the way of suffering is safer, and also more profitable, than that of rejoicing and of action.  In suffering God gives strength, but in action and in joy the soul does but show its own weakness and imperfections.  And in suffering the soul practices and acquires virtue, and becomes pure, wiser, and more cautious."  ~ John of the Cross

"There are few souls who contemplate My Passion with true feeling; I give great graces to souls who meditate devoutly on My Passion."  ~ Jesus to Faustina

I wonder if participating in His Passion--if done willingly--and simply remaining in His Love, is a form of contemplating Jesus' Passion?  Also, it is best for my soul to travel in obscurity; no recognition by a canon law that can give validity.  Jesus validates.  The suffering itself is validation of Christ in us, of Christ's love for us.

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit: Cocoon Phase of Metamorphosis

It's been a rough time of it lately.  The phone appointment came and went, and I felt a bit at peace for a few minutes following; but the overriding effect was the reality that there is a misconnect of someone such as myself with a parish priest who is incredibly gifted and talented--a dream of leadership abilities and style so effective that I've not witnessed the like thus far in known-to-me parishes.  However, it is not efficient for parish priests, even gifted ones, to spend time trying to guide a Catholic mystic, for one thing; the hermit part is probably the easier portion.

But I see the point of the situation I'm in being one of a win-win, in the priest's way of viewing it--which did not deal with the mystical reality and aspects so was a pie-wedge portion.  The process is typical; that is agreed upon.  The underlayment of the situation was not much addressed other than I know for myself and relayed it, that it is as it is, and that's the way forward.  Something never intended to be regulated is regulated; so be it.   Amen.  One goes along to get along, and the win-win part is that either way it goes, I must find positives.

I tend to always find positives in whatever situations (adventures, escapades, ordeals...).  The higher-level, on-going pain plus whatever this period of coming toward the end of another metamorphosis process spiritually, has been arduous and fatiguing.  I'm nearing conclusion of being in the cocoon phase; it's becoming tight, painful, squished, and wanting to break out, break free and be done with cocoons.

Then the butterfly phase will come; it always does.  It will seem fresh and new, some morning or afternoon or night when the "aha" moment erupts and all is clear and the Lord is revealed in glory and wonder--and I wonder why I was so pent up and feeling so suffocatingly trapped.  The cocoon is forgotten!  The wings unfurl, dry off, and begin to flutter, and off I fly freely with joy and great expectation of the fresh winging of delight in sense of strength in ability to conquer all in Christ's love and power!

Then there will be the fatigue and slowing, the darkness approaching, the pain and added suffering, the dying, the death.  I will wonder how I could have forgotten this part of the process?  The darkness spreads and extends and surrounds; after awhile I get used to it some--adapt.  I'm in the cocoon.  The cocoon becomes comfortable enough.  I don't mind now being enclosed and limited...until it starts to get old and cramped, and the mind casts about for escape and ends up going into the past, the memories, the sufferings, the questioning, the finding of circumspect reality.

That's the cycle, over and over and over.  Toward the end of the cocoon phase, the pressure builds, and one has no sense of outcome other than wanting it over with.  There is temptation to hasten the breaking free from the cocoon, of sabotaging the outcome just to finish it off, to be done with it, not be a butterfly pinned to a specimen board when caught, but to just keep flying in delight and joy of freedom to be what butterflies seem meant to be for their time of butterflying before the wings weaken, droop, and flutter no more, and then death.

So I read over, way back, writings of years ago.  I'd forgotten the pain of various situations as well as many of the visions and locutions.  In retrospect, reading past into old-present, into not as far past but still past, into more old-present, I could see God's ordaining all of what were torturous metamorphoses, one after another.  It was as if I was reading someone else's both painful ordeals and glorious adventures.

In correspondence for the past few days, I'd vent the anguish of what is toward the end of this cocoon experience, for this cycle, this metamorphosis.  I'm receiving prayers for the plight.  I received an accurate reminder and assessment, of which today I'd come around, also, to accepting all over again.  The crux of the matter really has to do with being a mystic; the hermit part is not the issue as much as is the mystic reality.

Mystics simply do not do well at all in parishes, nor will there be likely a parish priest who has the background, or if some interest or general knowledge, is not geared nor called to deal with mystics.  The parish priest is trained and called to deal with the temporal and active and normal, non-mystic-type Catholics. 

And hermits really ought not be involved in parishes other than to pass unnoticed to and from Mass, provided the hermit is able to be at Mass and get to a parish for Mass, or if a monastery near enough, even better to go and come to a monastery Mass. A parish priest ought not have to deal with a hermit much, either.  A hermit is consecrated to Christ and a gift to the Church, actually the universal Church, not limited, not specific; the hermit's life is devoted to praise of God and prayers for the salvation of the world.  That is broad and deep:  vast, beyond specification and temporal locale.  

A parish priest is called to shepherd a fullsome flock of all types, and if a hermit is one of the sheep, it is the least of them, the hidden one, not needing to be seen nor heard; for a hermit is to be a silent preaching of Christ, not a noticed bleating, old sheep--and also not a lamb.  Hermits have been sheep for a long time by the time they are hermits.  And if the hermit is also a victim soul, a suffering servant, that facet, also, by virtue of being an older sheep and versed by then in suffering and in being hidden and silently praising and praying and preaching Christ without bleating, the parish priest ought be efficiently utilizing time and talent with the fullsome flock of lambs, ewes, rams of all ages, needs--all breeds and types, bleating and all else of typical sheep.

I've already provided answers to various questions which was made simple enough by cutting-and-pasting what I've written years ago. Some aspects do not change in the wording--only in the living out over years upon years.  I was asked of things not in the rather simple law itself; but they are aspects I've written of years ago, so sent all that pertains.  The exercise was positive enough for it was a review and thus caused me to consider again, and to gain perspective on the interplay of all that was not included nor asked nor needs to be--the interweaving of a soul mystic, suffering, hermit, and Catholic.

A Catholic who has been through so much it is indescribable as to why.  At least the more sensory demonic assaults are years past now; onto the more insidious demonic attacks as well as ones from the outer world--pests and hassles human and otherwise.  A Catholic who at one point 15 years ago during a horrific pain siege and having to deal with a reprehensible assignment involving a troubled priest and much persecution to try to discourage me from obedience to the assignment the Lord had given me, cried out to another priest who'd brought me a consecrated Host, "Catholicism is my last and only hope!"

It goes on and on, does life, do the cycles and trials of phases of metamorphosis...over and over and over.  I wonder if after purgatory, when a soul with mind and heart but thankfully no temporal body gets to heaven if there will only be butterflying for all eternity.  Please, no more repetitive cycles of metamorphoses one after another.

The parish priest mentioned what is there to lose, just see what happens.  Well, there is a lot to lose such as what I already consider is lost of what was precious and unhindered, free to evolve like an ever emerging butterfly out of its cocoon, able to fly without notice, and die, and then the cocoon for hiding but never becoming cramped.  Only emergence without emerging, flying without butterfly wings being touched or grabbed, not being pinned to a specimen board.   All silence, solitude, slowness, stillness, simplicity, stability, serenity, selflessness, and yes, suffering some but all for God, omnia pro Deo, and solus Deus, God alone.

One must not assume that all this could still be possible.  Just let it unfold.  The Lord will decide, after all; this is His world, His creation, His Church.  I'm His hermit, His nothing mystic, His victim soul, His Catholic, His espoused and betrothed.  

While the priest mentioned in the win-win, that regardless of outcome, it is simply a matter of altering the position of a couple of words.  Yes, that is easy enough to do.  But I'm unlikely to play word games.  I will simply be the other that Jesus has of me and eliminate the one.  The life itself lived, will not alter at this point but will simply keep going, simply keep going, one cycle after another, one metamorphosis after another.   That is truly simple, is it not?

Here I am Lord, I have come to do Thy will.  Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me, a sinner...and a nothing cabbage butterfly.

The Living Word of God is so helpful!  From yesterday's first Mass reading, 1 Peter 5:5b-14, Feast of St. Mark:

"Beloved:  Clothe yourselves with humility in your dealings with one another, for:  god opposes the proud but bestows favor on the humble.  So humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time. 

"Cast all your worries upon Him because He cares for you.  Be sober and vigilant.  Your opponent the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion looking for (someone) to devour. Resist him, steadfast in faith, knowing that your fellow believers throughout the world undergo the same sufferings.  

"The God of all grace who called you to His eternal glory through Christ Jesus will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little.  To Him be dominion forever.  Amen....Peace to all of you who are in Christ."

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit: Why Accept Pain?

One of the final words the new spiritual father, the hermit-priest, said to me as we parted Monday afternoon after meeting and discussing, and praying for God to bless the encounter and whatever next, were to "come to a peace" or something close to that.  Was of seeking and encountering peace, and I found this so of the Holy Spirit, for peace is the very gift of the Holy Spirit and the bequeathing of Christ that so often I myself recognized is wanting, especially when the suffering becomes quite rough.

I did hear back in a text from Dr. H. last night, following my most lengthy texts written to him regarding the proposal to form our own group based upon the book The Power of Eight, and to try the formulaic procedure (what to me seems gimmicky in certain ways, and "new age," for those who are opposed to Christianity in their lives and personal relationship, faith in Christ Jesus).  Dr. H. said he was working 12-hour days so could not read all I wrote, but hoped to on the weekend and to be in touch via phone then.

I texted back to not bother to read all I wrote, but that I knew for me, was not my path--not a power of  eight group, nor power of seven, nor even of two--but that I know all my thoughts and texting, my research on the author and her writings and experiments, was good for me as the Lord needs me to more fully accept the power of pain, and to trust what I've been shown and told over the years mystically and spiritually, and in circumstances.  Also, that I must stop complaining of my pain.  

But that, yes, we can touch base on the weekend.  Perhaps on the phone I can try to explain once more, why it is that I know the Lord is not choosing for me a great release from physical pain, and why I've come to learn that pain is not the enemy; suffering is not the enemy.  Of course, we want for ourselves and others less suffering and all goodness of the temporal world; on this day of praying for the protection and legal rights of humans in the womb and those elderly at risk of euthanasia, we want a relief of suffering and pain, of murder of innocents.

Whether we pray or we focus "intent" for the good of mankind and of souls, there is a good in people banding together in goodness and concern for one another.  But when we read in Scripture the words of Jesus, saying "Where two are three are gathered,"  Jesus very much includes "gathered in My Name," and in other wording, "in the Name of the Father" or "calling upon the Holy Spirit" regarding prayers of the faithful, of us human souls who know Jesus Christ personally, who have faith in God, who experience the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

But all my lengthy text messages, delving deeply into various facets of this situation that arose--ironically in juxtaposition of a most unexpected and spiritually rich encounter with my new spiritual director, the hermit-priest--came this proposal that is more for people who have no faith in Christ, or if they do, may not trust the power of a single prayer, or even have come to accept suffering if it be God's will, or in all of life, to desire only God's will, to be in the Divine Will, and to have surrendered ourselves fully to Divine Providence.

This situation regarding the Power of Eight experiments seems now more something the Lord wanted me to dissect, to consider, to write out from my inner mind and heart, to try yet again to explain to the kindly and caring Dr. H., but more so for myself, why it is that when offered an experiment of this type, I balk; and instead I choose to accept the pain of over 35 years.  

Yet, also, why do I accept the pain medication which tones down the pain somewhat--not much but enough to help my body temporally cope--or that I am fine with the pain doctor beginning the process of an intrathecal pain pump which will require some suffering of its own in a 3-4 hour surgery, even if my body responds well to an external trial, and the reality of needing a replacement in 5-7 years should I yet be alive?

Why, years ago did I offer myself and all my sufferings to God to use as He wills?  Why was my mind and heart and soul inflamed and inspired to write out a vow of consecration of suffering 20 years ago this February 13, of which various priests have witnessed in my verbal renewal of this vow, over the years?

Why is it that even though Dr. H. witnessed and also asked questions regarding my suffering and pain, of God Himself in a rare and unusual mystical occurrence in June, 1988, and received answers from God and other holy ones on the other side, from heaven, which Dr. H. tape recorded and suggested I transcribe, which I did--that Dr. H. was not affected by those answers, and doesn't even remember specifics?  Why does it seem my added mystical experiences, the locutions and events of which I've shared with him over the phone, seem not to have impact in him, so that he continues to think in terms of finding some method or technique that would cause the pain my body suffers, to go away or be alleviated?

Why is it that we humans are looking for what we think is new, or a formulaic experiment or process that will bring about results from the use of our focused minds, or scientific hypotheses and modalities, despite supernal and mystical encounters with God and His saints, angels, and our own loved ones on the other side, in heaven or in progression toward heaven?

Why are so many people opposed to the word "prayer" or to Jesus, or God, or the Holy Spirit, or anything to do with what they call "organized religion"?  

Again, why would I accept pain over trying a seemingly simple, formulaic experiment of 8 people focusing their minds in loving intent for my pain to go away while looking at a photo or image of myself, for ten minutes at the same time each day, for fourteen days--that a writer has devised and tried out in experiments regardless their adherence to strict norms of research but with some varied yet some positive results, and called The Power of Eight?

The Lord has helped me sort through the thoughts and questions.  For one thing, I have deep faith and believe in Jesus Christ, and over the years I have come to trust in God's will regardless what I or others may think would have been a much more productive life, what would have been better at least on the external aspects for my now-adult children, and as some have said over the years--thinking of what all I could have done had I not been disabled by pain.

I also recognize yet again, that I can write of and verbally share with others the locutions, visions, mystical encounters, ecstasies during Mass, and various encounters with God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, angels and saints, holy souls passed on, and my death experience--but repeatedly and over 35 years and even before then, it is as if the persons reading or listening may seem as if understanding and taking it in, they really cannot absorb or fathom, nor even remember.  

This reality helps me understand why so many people do not read the Scriptures with the same absorption or faith, or do not participate in Mass with grasping and experiencing the supernatural realities of the living God, Christ, and Holy Spirit.  It is why so many Catholics and others in the various Christian denominations and worship groupings, do not have a real and internalized relationship with the Holy Mother of God, the Virgin Mary.

It is as it is.  But for those of us who have been touched deeply, who have been born mystics or who in life have experienced even one numinous, mystical event that alters our way of perceiving the temporal and the spiritual worlds, or for those with the gift of faith and to the degree of even blind faith in God, in Christ, in the Holy Spirit--we grasp, we fathom, we have capacity to understand some and even more that God may reveal to us.  We pray with increasing love of God in Himself and God's love for others as well as ourselves.  

We can read the lives of the Christian mystics and the words and experiences and teachings of prophets, saints, of Jesus Christ, Son of God, and of the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Trinity--and we have no difficulty trusting and understanding that of course, this is truth.  We don't need to have science prove an existence of Noah's ark, or have metaphysical or mythological thinkers come up with alternative explanations of Jonah three days in the belly of a large fish or whale, or that Job not a real, historical person.

Yet, we are not bothered if such explanations and discussions are posited.  Our inner sight, our inner grasp, our inner understanding and acceptance does not require logical explanations or proofs.  We have been touched by not only the finger of God, but by the Living Word, the numinous of the Holy Spirit, the reality of Jesus Christ, Son of God and the God-Man.  The virgin birth by the power of the Holy Spirit, the reason for Jesus' life among us, the sacrificial death on the cross for reparation of our sins and for the salvation of all mankind, the resurrection and ascension of Christ, the conversion of St. Paul, the visions and locutions of St. John on the island of Patmos, written in what now is the Book of Revelation--and so much more, reaching back into the Old Testament--does not phase us nor need scholarly proofs or debate.

The reality of the real presence of Christ's Body and Blood in the Eucharist, transformed from bread and wine in the Consecration of the Mass, the supernatural reality of the Mass itself, from beginning to end, of the Living Word of God proclaimed, of all the sacraments present and inherent in the Mass, the sending forth of our bodies, minds, hearts, and souls out into the world to witness to the power and love of God--all these realities need no shrouding of terms and words to be more palatable or believable to those who have not yet been touched spiritually, or who have not that blind faith of many who may live their entire lives without a numinous, mystical experience.

Essentially, to simplify, for these and lesser reasons, I can accept pain in this life.  At this time in my later years, perhaps my last decade, I do not have a burning desire to participate in prayer intention focusing which is not called prayer, or has certain set rubrics in order to "work".  I am more interested in conversions and deeper conversions, of being in the Divine Will, of seeking and participating in Divine Union, of awaiting the consummation of my mystical marriage with Christ--the glorious wedding and reception having mystically but oh-so-real, occurred one night in September, 2012.

I may attempt, if Dr. H. calls this weekend, to yet again explain the reality not only supernaturally but as it reaches into the temporal, of the years of mystical experiences, and why it is that somehow, I go more with them than I do with temporal attempts to remove pain that over time I have come to understand as having merit and of being productive, of being reparative, and of even as a title could be called The Power of Pain.  (This title, written in this blog, constitutes a trademarked name!  Ha ha! But it qualifies the four words as a temporal groundwork of trademark--oh, my.  As if God cares of the banality of that, and as if people would desire a book of that title!)

A marvel, it is, that somehow I was inspired within to include in my vow of consecration of suffering (equally not a best-seller of idea or written vow that people would clamor to repeat to God for themselves), that if I have options presented to me, I would choose the path of greater suffering.  Well, choosing to accept pain over participating in a power of eight group experiment, and to choose a surgically installed pain pump which will be another physical ordeal, does seem to be choosing a path of greater suffering.  

And I don't even know from whence or why that offering came to me to be included in various other aspects of a vow of suffering--or why even a vow of consecration to suffer at all?  Yet, I recall the intensity within, and the praying over it for quite awhile, and the discerning of the offering with my late spiritual father, who lived over 99 years and was a priest going on  73 years of that long life.

So be it.  I accept this pain and the various other forms of pain and suffering of which humans experience in this temporal life.  I accept them on behalf of Christ and His Church, and I offer them to Christ and His Church, for all the reasons and purposes temporal and spiritual which are written out in probably ad nauseam detail.  It's all from my mind, heart, and soul, even if my body, thoughts, and emotions yet struggle with suffering, sometimes a lot, and complain--in this temporal life God has given me for however more earth time He wills.

God bless His Real Presence in us!

[An angel of God did tell me in an early morning approaching while I yet slept, reminding me of how hurtful it could be that I used the author's name and seemingly was rather harsh regarding the quasi-research and experimentation, the claims made, the developing of and marketing for monetary gain of what the writer calls the power of eight.  So I did remove the name, and I hope in God that I did emphasize the good of what the person intends, the genuine zeal and passion of the person.  But of course, my path is the narrow path, and is of Christ, prayer, praise of God, and love of God in Himself and love of all souls as God loves each of us.  I reminded myself that I do love the writer whom I do not personally know, but that my path is not of that other.]

Catholic Mystic Hermit's Interesting Consideration

A couple weeks ago, this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit received an email from a reporter of a major newspaper, well-known in another country as well as internationally.  The reporter requested speaking with me via phone; she wished to interview for a story on this hermit and on hermit life.

So the following morning, the call came through.  We spoke at length, and I answered questions that she had concerning the overview I had the night before written, per her request.

Personally, I had decided that true to my hermit life and vocation, as well as true to how the Lord chose this vocation for me and not my choosing it--I pointed out the differences between various hermit lifestyles yet today and historically.  I also mentioned that I am as well a mystic, and that lends a slightly different slant to my vocation but does not alter the basics set forth by the Catholic Church as well as by the Orthodox--the East and the West.

I am sure there are certain eremite basics in other major religions besides Christian hermits. (However, there is not much variation in the basics of mystics; the main divergences in mystics would be the outflow and purpose of their love and desire.  For Christians the Beloved is Jesus Christ, of course.  And that in itself may be quite a distinct divergence in purpose and focus, but not so much in mystic existence, per se.)


I also mentioned that I keep my name, gender, and locale as anonymous as possible.  While those with nothing better to do may spend time trying to figure out the externals, most all do not bother.  It is my hope and prayer that what I write as a kind of case study is the interest and in wildest dreams perhaps an occasional inspiration-- from that of one unfolding of one hermit's life, and now including more the reality of being a mystic.

In discussing various aspects of hermit life and including the interjection of how my being a Christian mystic, as well, impacts in some ways my particular vocation, I later wrote that the mystic aspects for her purposes would not really keep to her purpose, of course.  Thus, just the hermit life and how it is lived out, is what readers of a secular newspaper story most likely would find of interest.

To me, the more superficial externals have become "old hat."  Yet, the bugaboo the reporter seemed to have was that her publication would want to use my name and have photos included.  And, she realized that I maintain my hiddenness in the simple aspects of name, location, and gender anonymity.  I proposed we use my pen name which lends to either gender.  

And I could provide photos without risking my hiddenness, as it in a way then becomes a fictionalized version of just anyone, for no one I know would be reading the article for they have no interest to do so.  (Protestants recognize the prophets of old, but they do not necessarily grasp that most of them if not all were religious solitaries, or hermits for a short time period or lifetime.  And they do not recognize hermit vocations within their beliefs and church constructs.)

Since then, I never heard back and assume she located someone no opposed to giving actual name and location (and perhaps one who is not a mystic, also, as that may have triggered a red flag in her mind.  I am finding that it certainly does with priests, usually, and also with parishioners.)  Protestants, on that one, are not so bothered, for they do not have the knowledge base of those in Catholic heritage who were mystics.  While Catholic mystics were often brutalized in one way or another when alive, they later were heralded in some form. I think this has in part to do with collective Catholic guilt at how horribly they treated the mystics when they were living, later to realize the person was not strange or a heretic in God's view, at least.

Well, the other consideration of which I am rather amused, is that I explained that I am not a canonically approved hermit, and sent the information on the differences between the recent addition of the canon law and what are set forth as guidelines for the eremitic vocation within the Consecrated Life of the Church.  I emphasized that those publicly professed are approved by and overseen by their diocese bishops.  The rest of us are privately professed and overseen by usually a priest or could be a bishop or abbot or even the Holy Spirit directly.  (One would hope so for any human, that we are overseen by the Holy Spirit!  Surely, we are if we desire and heed the inspirations, if we cooperate, as well.)

Am rather thankful and pleased that I've heard nothing more, as to me it was just more of the same old emphasis on externals of what some find to fulfill in curiosity, of why and how a person would live alone, how they might dress oddly or in a habit.  Or, as I was asked by the reporter, how often do I see others, do I have a television, what do I eat, what is my hermitage like?  There seem to be, already, plenty of articles online and in usually diocese newspapers about that kind of hermit stuff.  

All this brought to mind a priest who had contacted me a couple or three years ago.  He had retired and was entering into the hermit life.  He had seen something online by me and found it helpful, and thus wanted to keep in touch.  The next thing I knew, he was offering his advice and opinions (not able to let go his priestly counseling mode, perhaps), telling me if I did go to a parish, I should not speak nor be involved but just come and go and not let anyone know anything of my vocation.

So I wrote back that I have this mystical state during Mass, a textbook type ecstasy (even though there aren't many texts going into great detail other than one that the Lord let me know about, a very old book that described my condition in all aspects and over period of time--really, to a "t").  So it was not so easy to not pass unnoticed, however I did my best.

Well, with that bit of information, the priest hermit never responded again.  This past summer I did a bit of research to find out what was his status more currently.  Lo and behold, he has gone public with his hermit life, using his name, location, and whatever else of his identification in writing online and on other social media.

So much for his advice to me, I realized.  I have become more hidden, remained anonymous other than the one or handful whose curiosity or whatever else it might be, got the best of them in order to try to satisfy their mental and emotional needs in that regard.  The hermit priest has rather capitalized in a way, on his hermit aspirations and recent shift in vocation.  

And that is fine, for him.  It is not, for me.  Yet, I am at the point of not sneaking around when it comes to being myself.  To that, I recently mentioned to my adult daughter that what was not a problem at all to the typical parishioners and priests is the hermit vocation or designation. (Not that I brought it up to anyone as only a couple folks spoke to me, although I did tell the priest my vocation as why I would not be participating in some parish social activities--impacted also by my pain circumstances and finances).  

No, it is not a hermit vocation that bothers Catholics.  It is being a mystic that stirs and twists their thoughts and sensibilities.  It is their reactions and negative actions that have in turn caused me to tend not to trust their words, actions, thoughts, and feelings.  And that is not so good, not for me to react to their reactions.

And the more I consider it, the more I realize that if one's own church cannot cope with what and who one is in the inmost being that affects one's outer life as well, then there is something not quite right in that setting, group, and in our time period, for sure.  Have we not learned from the likes of those burned at stakes or imprisoned, or tormented, or shut off, spurned, ridiculed, or shunned?

I consider that gays and lesbians are able to be "out", to be themselves; and no one dare do anything untoward nor speak against them.  Same with Muslims--no turning on them nor committing what amounts to hate crimes of varying degrees and measures.

Well, to be unkind or to shun or persecute anyone would be unthinkable for Christian's!  Certainly!  We must laugh, however; for I actually have had signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the ill-treatment at the hands of Catholic priests and parishioners, even in the shunning tactics of which we people can so easily tell ourselves that we are not doing anything wrong in that nonverbal negation of other human beings.

So, I am not going to sneak around as if I am bad or immoral or committing a wrong by being myself.  I am a mystic, and I happen to be in the hermit vocation, privately professed in the Consecrated Life of the Catholic Church.   I am above all a Christian, a Christian mystic, and if the Lord chooses to have something occur which is seen, I cannot help it.  If as a result I am all the more orthodox in my hermit life, so be it, even if all the more needing to listen to the Lord and have my vocation unfold in His way and timing.

Regardless, the emails and phone call from the reporter brought a turning point resolve as well as evoked the reality of my stance of truth in disclosure of that which is not shameful.  It is for others to determine their capabilities in the virtues or vices, particularly those vices of judging others, envy, more fear than faith,  gossip, disparagement, and so forth. It is for me to do likewise but avoid situations in which others cannot cope with one who is different.  

There is a reason why gays and lesbians tend to live in areas of like kind.  There aren't enough extant mystics to do likewise; nor would a mystic desire that, especially not a mystic with a hermit vocation.  Prefer to blend in, and I can--just not with Catholics in Mass and not that well in more than superficial, passing converse.

It is not as if I need to say what I am within or without, any more than gays and lesbians need to--right?  However, there are conditions and circumstances in which who we are within pokes to the without, and thus we ought take courage and simply be and express our being without fear of recrimination or persecution.  And if so, then one has really no options, anyway.  We are what we are.  Praise God for that, and...
  
God bless His Real Presence in us!