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.

               

Tapioca and Life

               This past weekend I made a trip to Conception to collect my belongings. The journey was a long, expensive, and quite fun… I guess it’s a little bit like life.

               The one thing that made the biggest impression upon me was a dish of delightfully delectable kolek from Simply Siam in Maryville Missouri. This warm desert consisted of tapioca sweetened with coconut milk and flavored with jackfruit. I am well-accustomed to tapioca, but have never so much as heard of a jackfruit before now.

               As I slurped down the scrumptiously slimy pearls I wondered if I would ever again have the pleasure of enjoying this dish. I wondered if I would ever taste jackfruit again. I wondered which of my classmates I would never again cross paths with. Like my desert, I greatly enjoyed the company of my old friends, but I had to think at how improbable such a meeting was.

               There is only one present moment. The rarity of the present moment makes it more valuable.  One should be fully engrossed in the moment he or she is in. My spiritual director introduced me to a Latin phrase. Age quod agis roughly translates into ‘do what you do’. It serves as a reminder to fully engage the present.  

               Living in the present is incredibly difficult to do. Aside from enjoying my tapioca, I strain to relish the situations which I find myself. I tend to desire different company, different scenery, or different activities. Viewing the present moment as a rare gift that needs unpacking or a bowl of exquisite tapioca that needs devouring helps me appreciate my present situation. Maybe it can do the same for you.

              

              

                

                

Differences

               Life outside the seminary is quite different than what I am accustomed to. This difference is best exemplified in the differing kinds of work I do. For the past three weeks I have been working with a local contractor and developer. At seminary, it was my job to study and to pray. Now, I find myself climbing ladders and driving nails.

               I enjoy being physically tired when I go to bed. At school there was emotional and mental exhaustion. It is odd for me not being required to really think. There is a big difference between thinking about where to put screws and pondering the logic of circular reasoning. Lately, I haven’t had a lot of time for such philosophic ventures, and as a result have not been reading, writing, or posting blogs. I have plenty of topics to blog about, but actually formulating how to effectively communicate those ideas is what takes time and effort

               Work at the seminary was interesting because it was constantly busy with a whole host of classes, meetings, and seminars. Outside school I am even busier, but since all of my time is consumed with one job, things feel a lot less hectic. Things are simple now. I try to enjoy that because I know that simplicity won’t last.

               I recently had a short conversation with a young man who was in a very similar position. He left his respective ministry to come home and recollect himself. He said that as hard as the move was, he found it meaningful because he had more time to focus on his relationship with God. I found this quite funny and incredibly ironic because this is the exact thing that I am not doing.

               Allow me to explain…

               For the past 3 years I have scrutinized my relationship with the divine. I have attempted to climb Jacobs latter through many and various ways. Now, for the time being, I find that I no longer need to do this. Now is a time for me to experience God in new and different ways. In seminary I attempted to take my relationship with God and make my life meaningful. I think this thinking is backwards. Instead, I think I need to draw meaning from the life I love and cherish and apply that meaning to my relationship with God.

               At school I believed that one could be spiritual regardless of the job he or she held. I do still believe this, but I now realize how wildly different spiritualties can be. Some people pray more intellectually, others emotionally, others contemplatively, others pray through their work, others through their relationships. Instead of finding God through rationality, theology, and liturgy, I think that I will be better off enjoying fog banks, sawdust swirls, and peanut butter M&M’s.

               … and any plan with peanut butter M&M’s is a good plan.

Controlling Birth Control

               If you don’t know what is going on with the government’s universal healthcare mandate which requires insurance policies to cover contraception, crawl out of from underneath your rock and get educated. Now, this doesn’t seem like such a big deal if you aren’t Catholic, but Catholics believe that the use of contraceptives is immoral. Basically, the government is requiring Catholics to violate their consciences.

               I look at this mandate through the light of two lenses. First I view it as a Catholic. Secondly, I view it as an American. As a Catholic I am sorrowful, but not surprised. Christianity has a long history of persecution. When one’s beliefs and values are counter-cultural, one can expect the rest of society to fight against you.

               If the devil is an intellectual creature –much like in C.S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters-, I think this move is brilliant. Firstly, it is an attack on crucial and very pertinent values. The next generation, will be brought to existence through sex. If our views are distorted on sex, they are distorted on life. Secondly, it is an attack on values that have long since eroded from mainstream American Catholicism. If this healthcare  program remains unchanged, it will not be a  lost battle, but an admission of a past defeat.

               I am not only a Catholic, but an American citizen, and as a citizen, the situation enrages me. I cannot see this as anything but a violation of the Bill of Rights. This issue is not about the morality of birth control, or mandated healthcare. I am concerned for my country because its constitution seems to me to have been blatantly ignored.  I wonder the broken system that allowed such a transgression.

               I think that the situation calls for civil disobedience. I wonder if and when such disobedience will occur, and if it does, whether the party will be a morally convicted Catholic, or a political tool.

               I feel very odd writing about such things. Normally, talking religion or politics is a social faux-pa. I do not think it is odd to feel strongly about such things, but in today’s age, discussion is difficult because so few people agree.  

I Hope You Dance

               This past Saturday, I enjoyed my first dance in over 4 years. I honestly could not recollect the last time I had danced. As a seminarian, we are ‘highly advised against dancing’. Having had such little practice, and having picked a partner who was equally unskilled, the dance was…bad.

               But I am a firm believer that a bad dance is better than no dance at all. If you describe the cosmos as a dance, this idea, along with a little bit of technical language, resolves the problem of evil. For those of you who don’t know, the problem of evil is basically the question why a good God allows evil to occur. While I could easily drone on about this, -and probably will someday- I think that my time is best spent elsewhere.

               Dancing is a terribly funny thing. It seems so romantic. If romance is awkward and clumsy, I guess dancing is wonderfully romantic. As I sat, I watched people spin, twirl, and shuffle their partners to a giddy ecstasy- I am not so sure that the giddy ecstasy was not alcohol related-I wondered if you could extract all the good from dancing while leaving behind all the bad.

               I think people try awfully hard to do this with life. Take sex for an example: people attempt to divorce pleasure, from consequence and responsibility. Getting old is another example. People want to forget about the ensuing insanity at the end of life. People want romance without heartache, payment without work, growth without virtue…

               I think that God created a much bigger, much more wonderful world than that. Life is nerve racking, but the consequences and responsibility make life worth living. Life can lose its romance because we expect all the joy without all the sorrow. If it wasn’t for the sweaty palms, and the butterflies in the stomach, dancing would just be a silly pattern of bodily movements.

               My point is that we should not allow our expectations to rob us of the experience of life. I guess I’m trying to say that we should all live more... We should all dance more…except you seminarians of course, because you really shouldn’t be dancing. 

Achievement Unlocked

               I am a very achievement oriented person. I like to set goals and then achieve them even if they are small insignificant things. I enjoy unlocking achievements in video games. Even though you don’t do anything ‘real’, you still get the feeling that you have accomplished something. Earning a paycheck is a very satisfying experience. I am well suited to construction because building a structure is likewise a fulfilling venture, and if you are anything like me, you may enjoy this little game: http://www.kongregate.com/games/ArmorGames/achievement-unlocked

               As rewarding as achievements things can be, I have to constantly remind myself that my value is not dependent upon what I do. I touched on this subject earlier: http://zakrzewicz.blogspot.com/2012/01/worst-part-of-getting-old.html Sometimes, through failures, God reminds us not to value our accomplishments.

               This past week at work was incredibly unproductive. In one day, I somehow managed to undo all the previous day’s work. Upon arriving at work, my boss and I quite often realize that the previous day’s work was an inch off, and it all needs to be redone. This not only is a loss of labor and materials, but it is also a loss of my patience as well.

               I think it is natural for people to think that God judges them upon their achievements, but I am quite convinced that this is way of thinking is incorrect. As much as I freak out about ‘doing’, I could only imagine what it would be like if I were not Christian. When Christ said ‘It is finished, it was the ultimate Achievement unlocked.

               If actions come from a desire for validation, they are hollow. Christians are not ‘good people’ so that God will love them. Christians are good people because of a wondrous and burning passion for life that comes from the realization that God loves people.

               Simply put, we don’t have to worry about collecting achievements. We should achieve because of the joy that comes from God’s achievement.

A Healthy Dose of Insanity

               I have now had the displeasure of watching my last two remaining grandparents slowly slide into insanity. I don’t know the technical differences between Alzheimer’s and dementia. All I know is that their minds do not work like they once did. At first this was a very difficult thing to cope with. It became a great fear of mine that I would also someday find myself in a similar state. Eventually, however, I came to glean great graces from the situation.

               At its heart, insanity seems like a terrible thing. The person that you once loved somehow ceases to be. The mind undergoes a death, and the body remains to slowly decay as well. In order to cope, one must have a sense of humor. From the outside, some people would see such humor as a cruelty, but on the inside it is a necessity.

               The other day my grandfather was irritated that he couldn’t call his son. The tragic thing was that the son he wanted to call was sitting across the table and he couldn’t recognize him. I offered to let Grandpa use my cell phone to call the house, before my father knew who was calling, he picked up the phone and said hello. My grandfather shouted “ELLO?! IS DIS MIKE?!”. They proceeded to have a brief conversation from across the dining table while clutching their respective telephones. We couldn’t help but laugh at the entire situation, but the conversation succeeded in calming Grandpa for the afternoon.

               I think that a person’s true character is revealed through such a state. You can tell what a person worried about: the return of their spouse from the fields, losing of their wallet, losing livestock, and the list goes on and on. My grandmother would often wake us up at 2am with shouts of “HAIL MARY!” It takes a very special kind of person to always default back to prayer in their times of confusion. That is the kind of person my grandma was, and I don't know if I would have ever had the grace of knowing it if it had not been for her illness.

               Upon getting aggravated over not being able to find his eyeglasses, I proceeded to take my Grandfathers glasses from off of his face, show them to him, and then put them back on him. Immediately the worry was relieved. More often than not, however, we are powerless to relieve any anxiety. I feel the worst when my grandfather is visibly distressed and inconsolable.

               But its about that time that Grandpa put his socks on his hands… and I can’t help but laugh.

Jesus>Religion

               Many of my readers will be familiar with a YouTube video that has recently gone viral. I am referring here to the Jesus>Religion video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY

               The video was not shocking to me in the least bit. Perhaps it is because of my protestant influence, but I understood what the man was talking about. The real shock to me came from experiencing all the criticisms that the video provoked.

               I think a great deal of the criticisms stem from a desire for a logical argument. The appalling lack of rationality enrages the philosophy student in me. A great deal of the critics misunderstand the original intention and purpose of the video. As a result, these authors set themselves up as enemies of the video which I see as a great mistake.

               The difference between what the critics want and what the author provided was the difference between logos and pathos. To put it simply, the author’s definition of religion is different than the critic’s. The author takes everything bad about the church and lumps it into a category which he then labels as ‘Religion’. The purpose of the video is not to logically prove all these bad things, but to empathize with the audience that such bad things exist and need to be remedied. This is very bad logically, but very effective emotionally.

               The problem of the video is that specific words have specific meanings. Religion has a specific meaning and one can’t simply redefine it. Yet redefining this word makes it semi-scandalous, and is what has made the video viral. From an author’s standpoint, it really is a brilliant stratagem.

               If you don’t hate something about Christianity I don’t think you are paying very close attention. If you can’t relate to this video, I don’t think I can relate very well to you. It doesn’t take very long on the web to come across religious content that is incredibly frustrating and depressing. If you need some ‘Religion’ to be upset about, check this out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTSbfs32yCU

OH SILLY RELIGIOUS PEOPLE

New Beginnings

               During my final meeting with the vocations director, I wondered what kind of response I should have to being told that I would not return to school. A whole host of thoughts and emotions flooded me all at once. I was angry, sad, overjoyed, relieved, and aggravated all at once. Being who I am, I tried to put these emotions into words, but completely failed.

               My thoughts were as difficult to describe as my emotions. They were seemingly random, unimportant, but rational. First, I realized that I would not get to eat at my favorite restaurant for a very long time, and I had personally told the owner that I would be back. I realized that I would have to make a trip up to conception to collect my things, and perhaps at that time I could get to Simply Siam. If I was lucky, perhaps I could score a dinner at a Brazilian steakhouse. At this point, I realized that I had not eaten all day, and should really stop thinking about food.

               My next thought was that I didn’t know what I would do with my blog. I figure people may want to read the ramblings of a seminarian, but would easily gloss over another young Catholic blog. I have no central topic. My views are not always spiritual; they are not always funny. My thoughts, like in my last meeting are completely random.

               Yet, as random as all my thoughts are, I think that they all stem from a valid hunger. I know that other people share my sentiments and hunger as well. As random as my thoughts are, I hope my readers can appreciate them.

Desire-less

               It is interesting getting out of the seminary because I do not know what to do with myself. I have been a student for as long as I remember. With the suddenness of this situation, I found myself unable to get into another school for the spring semester.
               I do not know what I want out of life. Becoming a seminarian required that I relinquished many of my desires. For example, a priest is told where to live, his pay is set, and he can’t have a wife. It was my experience that growing up, one should desire a nice home, a good paying job, and a loving family. It isn’t that seminary knocked these desires out of me, but I ceased cultivating them. I stopped daydreaming about the future and what I would like from it.

               I have an idealic notion that one should have a gnawing hunger for life. This is not only a hunger for the future, but also for the present. I wonder how such a hunger comes about. I wonder what kind of growth passion comes from, and is such a thing immediate or slow growing? Are such passions natural? Must they be cultivated, tended, or kept in check?

               Not only do I not have a great ‘life passion’, but I seem to lack ordinary wants. It seems that I can walk all the isles of all the stores and not find anything that I really want. I wonder how people generate desires to go to certain colleges, other countries, or specific jobs. I seem content to drift through life until I find something that I enjoy.

               I believe my ‘desire-less’ state is quite a natural result of my peculiar position in life. I would be worried if the second I got out of seminary I had a great desire to move to France and attend culinary school –or something of the sort-.

               I would not mention any of this, except that I think that a great number of other people are equally lost. In the end, I find that my lack of desires boils down to one desire: to have a great desire. It is rather ironic, but I think it is a wonderful place to start. 

Worst Part of Getting Old

               My grandfather suffers from dementia. I don’t know if suffers is the correct term though. Sometimes I think that he is much better off not knowing reality. There is a lot that could be said about that, but I will save that for another time.

               Although, not altogether in his right mind, he maintains a hold upon rational thought and sense faculties, and this makes it possible to hold pretty coherent conversation with him. One day I asked him what the worst part of getting old was. His answer made a profound impact on me.

               He said the one thing he didn’t mind was getting up each day and seeing that your spouse was another day older. He said that age was a thing that snuck up on you. One day you are 60. The next day you are 65. He said that he forgets how old he is. He thinks he can do things that he can’t anymore. The worst thing was not that he didn’t know where he was, who he was with, or that he couldn’t remember things. My grandfather said that the worst part of getting old for him was losing his coordination.

               It is a lack of ability that is so troubling. I realized that I value being able to do things. I think society values ‘doing’ much more than it should. The very old and very young are liabilities. They are useless wastes of resources because they can’t do much of anything.

               There more and more I talk with my grandpa, the more I realize that this is utterly false. His personhood is not tied to what he can and cannot do. By extension, my value does not come from what I achieve. I can be loved for no other reason than because I exist. I do not need a ‘reason’ to love other people. I hold people in high regard because they are intelligent, beautiful, rich, or talented.

               Yet sometimes I realize that none of this matters in the least bit.

All the Single Ladies...

               My 6 year old niece recently shared with me that she had obtained a boyfriend. As an uncle, I find this incredibly irritating. It saddens me that society thinks if we are single, we are missing out. Being a seminarian made me realize that the single life, far from being lonely, was incredibly rewarding in its own peculiar way.

               Now that I am out of priestly formation, there is nothing keeping me from dating. Seminary made me realize that, at present, I do not want or need a girlfriend. What I really want are simply good friends. St. Paul’s exhortation to remain single in I Corinthians 7 comes to mind.

               There is a question in the Church of whether or not the single life is a valid life-long vocation. It is a great question, and one that I am not sure of the answer of. The vast majority of us expect to someday get married and settle down. My main point is that, although this may be the case, we don’t need to feel like we are missing out.

               I think that many of us desperately need to realize that life is going on right now. Regardless of circumstance, God is working. Although someday I may be meant to be a priest, or a spouse, I know that right now, I am just supposed to be me. I do not need to strive to become that future spouse, I need to strive to be the present me…. And that is a wonderfully liberating thought.

Past due

               This is a post that was written well over a month ago, and although it came from a different context, I think it is still applicable.

               I never felt I was called to the priesthood specifically. I know that I am called to some sort of ministry and, and the priesthood may be that ministry. Above all else, I discerned a call to the seminary. It was a call to grow, to discern, to climb out of love, and to fall back in love.

               I have long held this call to be a blessing. If God called me directly to the priesthood, I would freak out and reject him altogether. My call is a great reminder that God meets us where we are and not where we should be.

               I recently had a revelation. For a while, I have known that I dislike seminary formation. Many seminarians can endure such formation in order to obtain the prize of ordination. Somehow we think that being a priest will make our lives enjoyable. Since I do not know if I want to be a priest, and I do not have some great burning positive desire for ordination, I am in a pickle. Basically it reduces down to one simple fact: I dislike my vocation.

               This would cause me great distress,-and often does- except I have great hope for the future. I am learning and growing. I think I am like a child who is learning to eat solid food. I can’t enjoy it at first, but will learn to relish it infinitely more than what I had before. I take life with a dose of hope: Someday I will like it. I look forward to that day.

The End?

               To be short, -which I am- I must say that I am no longer a seminarian. If I want to sound important or be otherwise tactful, I would say that ‘At this time, the decision has been made to discontinue priestly formation’. Of course, this does not mean that I may never return to the seminary.

               Conception Seminary and the Archdiocese of Oklahoma city relieved me of having to make this decision on my own. Part of being a seminarian is doing what the authorities of the church tell you. I fully ascent to this course of action, and do not resent it in any way.

               My immediate reaction was shock. I had all my things packed in my car, gas money in my pocket, and had already driven 300 miles. A whole wave of other emotions flooded me: anger, disappointment, sadness, excitement. Above all these was a sense of relief. This relief provided me with the peace that this was God’s will which I had so eagerly been seeking.

               The reasons for me not returning to Seminary are very simple, yet difficult to adequately explain. For quite some time now, I have been struggling with a serious bout of depression. It is no secret that I found seminarian formation to be quite wearisome. The Seminarian formators concluded that a great deal of my depression, if not its entirety, was caused by activities that were integral to priestly formation. As a result, the formators concluded that it would not only be good for my general temperament, but my spirituality if I were to leave the seminary at this time. If it turns out that my depression is not caused by the rigors of discernment and formation, they offered to be of whatever assistance they can be to get me to a place of greater peace.

               The fact that I so abruptly changed the direction of life, both creates and dispels a myriad of problems, emotions, and discussions, but all that will have to wait for later.