Recent Lapse in Creativity

               The past few weeks have not been conducive to blog-related creativity for various reasons. For the sake of time and simplicity, I will discuss the main two reasons. The first reason for not updating my blog is because I am considering quitting the text-based blogosphere.

               I am now seriously considering beginning a video blog. There are many and various reasons for undertaking such a venture. Of course, there are plenty of reasons not to, and my first vlog would probably be dedicated to discussing those reasons.

               A video blog has struck my creativity because every article that I consider publishing has the potential for being a 3 minute video blog. I am on the fence as to whether to publish my articles or to make them into videos. As of now, I have done neither.

               The second reason for my lapse of posts is a recent intensification of my depression. I find this reason quite ironic because, although it is not something typically discussed, my blog is a perfect medium to relate to other souls who silently struggle with such sadness. Although, blogging is a good medium for expression, I am undecided if I will actually address depression in the near future.

               Any input from my audience will be quite welcome and appreciated.

Rain

               `I love rain. People say that love is a strong word and is unsuited to objects like rain, but I REALLY LOVE rain. As a kid I remember gathering outside with the neighbors and doing rain dances on the verge of an approaching storm. I still go outside when it rains –perhaps this is a sign that I don’t have sense enough to come out of the rain-. There is something soul satisfying about the rumbling thunder which words are not apt to describe. I figured since I was off of work due to rain, and it had been kind enough to remain roaring throughout the night, the day would be well spent writing out my appreciation to the floodgates of the heavens.

               I live in a place where rain is rare. We measure rain in 100ths of an inch. –I’m not kidding-. The annual precipitation average is around 20 inches. As rare as the rain is, being rare does not automatically make a thing valuable.

A drought  map from this year. Yeah, I live in that dark red  circle out west

Unfortunately, rain is a requirement for life. Farming is a prominent business around here, and the weather must cooperate in order for success. Rain means that the economy will pick up. It means that friends will be able to pay their mortgage. That sense of relief and joy is infectious, and even if you do not benefit directly, that joy wiggles its way into your soul. A smile is, after all, contagious.

               One can outline a whole host of spiritual analogies using water. Water is cleansing, water is a necessity, and Christ even described himself as ‘living water’. Instead of talking about any one of these, I would just like to note how much we take things for granted.

               We take water for granted… even out here. One thing that struck me odd while I was at school in Missouri was how depressed people got when it rained. The mood was exactly opposite of what I was used to. A few desert dwellers also would go for walks in the rain, but hardly anyone realized just what a gift it was. Not only were people not appreciative of this gift, but they despised it. We do this not only with rain, but many other blessings in life. Just think: the very things that irritate you may be the greatest blessings you have!

               I haven’t decided yet if that is a wonderfully joyous thought or an incredibly depressing one. Either way, it is a cool thought. 

A Bad Article on What is Best

               I think it was one of Donald Miller’s friends who said “I am drowning in a sea of good”. At first I thought this was a very stupid thing to say. People strive to surround themselves with good things. It stands to reason that if you are in a sea of good, you can’t really get much better.

               I failed to realize that good is less than better which is in turn less than the best. I think that Orthodox Christianity believes that people were made for the best and not just the good. I really really really like that idea, and, frankly, I think the rest of the world should adopt it. In the book of Genesis, after God creates each thing, he sees that it is good. I am incredibly excited to live in a world full of good.

               As a thought experiment, attempt to equate ‘doing what is best’ with ‘doing what is moral’. Within our own society there are widely different beliefs for what is moral. I think this rift is due to the acknowledgment of what is good without thinking about what is best.

               For example, It is good for an orphan to have a family. It is good for two people to devote themselves to each other for life. A stable loving home is a good thing. Everybody acknowledges these goods. So why is it that when it comes to gay marriage, Catholics remains stubbornly unaccepting? I think you can understand this seeming jump in logic by understanding that Catholics don’t believe that homosexual relations are the best.

               Another excellent example is Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood is pro-sex. Sex is good. My God invented it –yeah he is THAT cool-. Yet, Catholicism insists that sex is only good between a man and a woman, within the bounds of a certain institution, with an openness to conceive….. blah... blah… blah… All of these ‘requirements’ are due to the belief that sex gets better with each requirement, and it is this belief that needs to be debated.

               Sex, money, McDonalds… These are all good things, and it is easy to see how each of these can lead to a depraved life. In the book of Genesis, after God creates each thing, he sees that it is good, and I for one, am incredibly excited to live in a world full of good.

               For clarity’s sake, I am not trying to give reasons why certain actions are immoral. Nor am I saying that Christianity’s idealism leads to the best outcome in real-life. My real point, -which I didn’t make very well- is that arguments about morality are not all that dangerous to the faith. People try to choose what is good, but fail to choose what is best. It seems at some point, the church started wishing bad upon these people with ‘lesser moral standards’. People all around us –myself included- are drowning in a sea of good and are desperately in need of the best. It is not the Churches job to beat them with the scepter of morality, but to live the best, and in so doing, show them that there is something better. 

Crisis of Faith

               I am irritated when people are not direct. When a person beats around the bush, when they give all the details without describing the actual reality, I get quite disappointed.  I feel that this happens in religion far too often.  I may be very wrong, but I get the impression that a great deal of preaching is simply missing the point.

               The minute I point an accusing finger, I have to reflect that critique back on myself. In my blog especially, I tend to share random odds and ends without nailing down the crux of my spirituality. I follow this bad tendency because being honest is hard, and I’m not very good at difficult things. Because if there is one thing that characterizes my spirituality it would be my time in the seminary, and if there is one thing that characterizes my time at the seminary it would be depression.

               Going into the seminary, my psychological evaluation revealed that I was prone to a chronic low-grade depression called dysthymia. This was in no way a surprise to me. I tend to stray away from a sun-shiny optimism and focus on the hard facts of reality. –I think you are pessimistic if you call that pessimism-.  The Church had become a refuge for me and I felt drawn into the very heart of it.

               Ironically, I did not find God in the seminary. I found philosophy. I found a lot of talk about ‘all the things’, but apart from talk, I experienced none of ‘those things’.  I found myself irritated by my faith because it stopped being something real and present and began to be a concept floating out in the vast abyss of academia.

               My first year at school was characterized by solid attendance and strict adherence to the rules. I tried to be the best seminarian I could be. During my second year, I came down with a bad case of mononucleosis and ended up dropping a semester’s worth of classes. During my third year, I plain stopped caring. I realized that the sky did not fall down if I stayed in bed instead of going to prayer. I had never much cared for the Liturgy of the Hours anyway.

               I think the depression really kicked in when I realized that the main source of comfort in my life had become a burden to me. I found myself ‘keeping up’ with my faith only because I had to. I still frequented the sacraments, but not as frequently. I still attended, but not as regularly. I still laughed, but not nearly as hard.  I had faith that some realization would break through the clouds, and in a little while things would be better. But nothing happened.

               I made the decision that if nothing changed, I would not go on after I had finished my undergraduate degree. I had about 25 credit hours to complete, and I would have a summer break in-between them. I have learned to do things despite how I feel about them. Getting through school was no different. I did not make the decision to leave because I had learned that the seminary was not the priesthood. You can hate one and love the other. Maybe my ministry would have been magnificent.

               Somewhere along the hierarchy, the decision was made that I should not return for the 2012 spring semester. I was informed of this decision the day I was driving back to school. At first I was shocked. Before I had left, there had not been a mention of such a decision. After the initial surprise, I was a little irked at the short notice, but any anger was washed out by a torrent of relief.  It was a relief not to have to drive another 7 hours, to not have to fix schedules, order books, clean rooms, pray, study and so on and so forth.

               It was a good decision for me not to go back. The seminary did not hurt my faith in God or the Church, but it wounded me emotionally. By doing so, it wounded me spiritually. In Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz –which I would recommend to anyone- he opens his chapter on ‘belief’ with a paragraph that has stuck with me for a long time:

        “MY MOST RECENT FAITH STRUGGLE IS NOT ONE of intellect. I don’t really do that anymore… I don’t believe I will ever walk away from God for intellectual reasons. Who knows anything anyway? If I walk away from Him, and please pray that I never do, I will walk away for social reasons, identity reasons, deep emotional reasons, the same reasons that any of us do anything.”

               And that about sums it up.



               For now…

               

Musings on Potentiality

               I have not posted in a while. Since a couple of my friends have threatened me with physical violence, I figure that I should post something. I have plenty of ideas, none of which are formulated very well. My ideas are vague and ephemeral –much like the public’s views on spirituality-. The possibilities are near endless. I want to express how much I love rain, how much I fear fire, how much of a not-good Catholic I am, how Christianity isn’t mindless… The list goes on and on.

               My philosophical training tells me that a thing in actuality is better than a thing in potentiality, and so I conclude that I better start writing. Potentiality is a funny thing. People say that I have a lot of potential. Nobody pays anything for potential. I often wonder if I am wasting my potential. I think that I should develop more of my talents. I should invest more in my relationships. I should study like there is no tomorrow. –this is ironic because if there was no tomorrow, studying is the last thing I would be doing-

               Somebody insignificant once said something very similar to the following: “the most common substance in the universe is wasted human potential.”  I am ignorant as to whether or not this insignificant person was quoting someone more significant. –please note that I do not believe people have greater and lesser significance.  Humans are like buckets.  These buckets are rarely full, but are incredibly wonderful when they fill up.

               I love my faith because, contrary to popular belief, it is not mindless or stifling, but my faith is a wonderful, living thing that challenges me to become a better person. I am excited at the paradox of Christianity which makes a person strive to become more, and yet, at the same time, completely affirms who you are right now. Is that not exciting? Or do I just delight in random thoughts?

Friends

               People say that you lose your high school friends, but college friends are ones you keep for life. The seminary is an odd situation for making and keeping friends. The seminary is a place where it is easy to make friends, but the permanence of those friends is always in question. People discern out of the priestly vocation on a monthly basis. An extremely small percentage of seminarians are 100% sure that they will become priests. The rest of us fall out of formation at often unexpected times.

               I am in a strange although common position for a seminarian. I have ceased formation and, as a result, am removed from the vast majority of my closest friends. A few of my classmates will return to Oklahoma for their ministry, but most will be spread out across the United States. The chance for extended interaction with all of my friends is quite slim, and as a result, causes a rift in any relationships that I did have at the seminary. While I was at school, I often wondered what it was like for the people who left. Now I have first-hand experience, but I don’t know how to describe it.

               Friendships are incredibly powerful and complicated things. I tend to attempt to retain my old friendships despite geographic distance. I want all my friendships to be lifelong and deep, but I am not so sure this should be the case.

               Circumstance dictates friendships. I have not tried to keep up with any of my fellow seminarians because of the distance between us. I personally need to be sure not to neglect present relationships. One needs to be present to the community he or she is with. The shortest, the simplest, and the most basic human interactions are equally important as the most intimate friendship. Sharing a smile and offering thanks for a cup of coffee can be as important as keeping in touch with an old friend.

                

              

Unimportant Words about Words

               Words are funny things. Having studied philosophy, I have a deep appreciation for words. It is truly an amazing thing to be able to communicate with another person. One must marvel at why speaking is humanity’s primary mode of communication. It is interesting to think that, if things had been a little different, we might have communicated more through sight, electrical impulses, or even through some specific frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum.

               It is easy to forget that words have specific meanings. There usually is a right word for what is meant. In high school I was taught to vary my vocabulary. After all, one should not repeat the same word over and over again. Philosophy taught me that you should pick a word and stick with it. Substituting in synonyms is detrimental to the real meaning because synonyms, no matter how similar, mean different things.

                I am amazed at how a person can make a statement and the audience infers a meaning which the statement does not contain. Not only do people have the uncanny ability to understand what is meant, they also have a great capacity for misinterpreting what is said. Since society does not consistently uphold language standards, anything you say can be construed as meaning something entirely different.

               Words have layers of meaning. Not only does a word have a defined meaning, but it also carries with it an emotional charge. These connotations allow the reader to relate to an author on an emotional plane as well as a mental one.

               I both enjoy and despise how language rules do not apply unequivocally. For example, why is a breadstick not called a stick bread? After all, in the English language, descriptors precede a noun. If this is the case, a bread stick should denote a stick that resembles bread whereas stick bread would denote bread that resembles a stick.  Of course there is probably some rule that grants exceptions to breadsticks because breadstick is one word and delicious.  

               Similarly, I find it ironic that sawdust is categorized by the tool that creates it. Why is this rule not consistently upheld? Why is dust created from a sander not called sander dust? More importantly, why is the dust not categorized by the material it is made from? Iron bits can be sawdust. Stone can be sawed into dust, as well as dirt, but when someone says sawdust, one automatically presumes that it means wood dust.

               When I mention such concerns to my boss, he just rolls his eyes, hands me a circular saw, and tells me to go make wood dust.