The Post-School Slump

So theoretically I was supposed to start working super hard on this paper I have to give in May as soon as I finished school. Of course, completion of the semester means the beginning of full time work. And my motivation to work on the projects I really should work on has plummeted. But I hope I'll start working on it soon. After Christmas or in the days leading up to it, perhaps.

On Positive and Negative Beliefs

Recently I have been caught in a discussion on the existence or non-existence of hell. And an atheist weighed stating essentially, "There is no God." And someone decided to make a point by posting the exact opposite, showing the usefulness (or lack thereof) of sweeping absolute statements. This was followed by people saying in essence, "Prove it. There's no God and since that's a negative the burden of proof is entirely and solely on you."

Now they are correct in that you cannot prove a negative. I will not dispute this, nor do I truly seek to. However, I suspect they do not understand what the phrase means. If I give a pet a treat for sitting when I tell it to sit, we agree this is positive reinforcement. The pet realises that if it does what it's told, it gets a treat. I do X and I get Y. The same thing applies when the pet does something it knows it oughtn't and gets put in its kennel. I do X and I get Y. This is also positive reinforcement, even though it is not pleasant for the subject. Negative reinforcement is different. If you do what you oughtn't, a nice thing gets taken away. If you do what you ought, a bad thing gets taken away. I do X and Y goes away.

Now a similar concept applies to this claim to not need to prove a negative. And as I said, I agree that you do not need to prove a negative. The burden of proof is on the person who claims a positive. "There is a God." This is a positive statement about Truth. It is True if it is reality regardless of whether anyone believes it or not. "There is no God." This is also a statement about Truth. Any statement which states what present in the nature of Truth is definitively positive.

Conversely, any statement which states what is not present in the nature of Truth is definitively negative. So if I were to say, "There may or may not be a God." I have introduced uncertainty into the equation. And as Truth is by its virtue objectively absolute, it cannot be uncertain. Therefore any uncertain statement addresses what is not present in the nature of Truth: in this case, that there may both may or may not be a God.

Because of this, it is a fallacy to argue that stating there is no God is a negative statement and therefore needs no proving. It is, in fact, an entirely positive statement about the nature of Truth, which is what we argue whenever we discuss such matters as the existence of God.

Remembrance Day

Lest we forget...

It's all in Boethius...

It's remarkable how what I am reading affects how I think about the world. Lately I've been involved in a few conversations on matters such as hell and other points of theology. And every time it's easy to pull out concepts such as how Fortuna turns her wheel, or how we can find true happiness. And further, I then link it to Plato and his forms.

That said, I really shouldn't be posting on message boards because I really do have to finish this paper on Boethius and Ovid for tomorrow. Ah well.

Paper Writing

So I've been assigned yet another 5 page science paper. A 5 page science paper is equivalent to a 10-15 page paper in medieval studies. Or a grant application. I'm thinking this will be good practice for when I have to apply to such creatures as the SSHRC.

Oh, and Piotr Rubik is great music for writing. It makes every word another note in a spectacular epic.

Projects and Panic, Oh My!

So I've been organising my ideas for an MA thesis idea. I'm a little nervous, because so far the idea hinges on something that I haven't looked into nearly close enough. (Not entirely, but enough that I would need to re-think some ideas if it turns out I'm wrong.) I strongly suspect that fables are telling of cultural assumptions about people, but I don't have any evidence or theorists who support this idea to reference yet. Once I have that, I will feel far more comfortable pushing my ideas forward regarding fables and disability. I suppose that means once I've read a section of Metzler's book and I've done some homework that is actually due for classes and grades and such (Classes? what? I have to do work other than my personal projects to pass and graduate? dang...)

Here's hoping I'll survive this next month of projects and maybe I'll be able to find these useful things for my own work.

Liminality!

Today I picked up Irina Metzler's Disability in Medieval Europe (also, parts are available here) from interlibrary loan. I started reading the introduction and at one point she says, "Questions this book addresses with regard to medieval notions of impairment, for example, revolve around ideas concerning the liminality of impairment..."¹

Oh how I love the notion of liminality and it fills me with glee when I run across it elsewhere...

1 Metzler, Irina. Disability in Medieval Europe. Oxford: Routledge. 2006. 1.

To Continue the Discussion

Greg has posted to replies to my previous post: One here and the other here. I would highly recommend reading them has he makes some very good points worth considering regarding what I have said.

And in His Image He Created Them

Recently Greg and I have been discussing the question of what does perfection in heaven look like and how does it fit with being ad imaginem Dei creavit -- creavit in imago Dei -- that is, created to the image of God, created in His image. To wit, what is the image of God and what is perfection and how do these concepts apply to people who are physically or mentally impaired?

There are a few things to keep in mind. The first is that we are commanded to be perfect as God is perfect. God never gives us a command that cannot be followed. This means that, if Christianity is for everyone, it must be possible for everyone to follow this command, regardless of any physical or mental impairment. This fits with the suggestion that perfection does not mean of the body but of the soul, and that we must rely on the grace of God to effect holy perfection in us. Still, one may bring up that we shall all be judged according to what we knew, and this may be the loophole to include physical perfection, but that suggests that God has made us unequal in our ability to be made perfect instead of it being our circumstances that allow us to see clearer the grace of God. The child who never hears of Jesus but strives to live as good a life following the Noachide Laws unknowingly is not the same as the deaf child who grows up following and serving Jesus; nor can we say that they are equally distant from perfection, one by not having the opportunity to know Christ by name and the other by not having full use of hearing. Rather, the former receives grace based upon the little they knew, and the latter based upon the great amount they knew. The physical impairment does not limit the relationship with the heart of God.

The second is that God is love. The case has been made that as with light and dark, and hot and cold, so with love and evil. Dark and cold are not measurable things in themselves, but absences of light and heat. In that way evil is not a thing in itself, but the absence of love -- the absence of God, to be exact. Therefore, if we say there is evil in the world, what we really mean is that there is an absence of love in the world. We see this absence by the presence of love, which is in truth the presence of God. The first sin, then, was in its nature a refusal or rejection of God and of love. If before the original sin the world was good, and therefore full of love and fully reflecting that which is of God (for that which is full of love is modeled and shaped to the image of love, which is the image of God), then after the original sin the world was deprived of love and reflected less that same image of God. One might say, then, if this is an imperfect world, and if Eden was perfect, that perfection depends on the full presence of love.

We are created ad imaginem Dei, but by being born to human parents in this world we are injured by the shadow of sin. But we are commanded to be perfect, so this means reaching for God who restores us to love, that is, to Him -- to His image.

So now we know how perfection is achieved and what it looks like. It is achieved by the grace of God healing us from sin and filling us with the love that is Himself, so that we reflect His love. It is a change in the soul. Anyone of any age, nation, race, culture, or background of any sort is able to experience this change to be like the complete image of God. Anyone. And in heaven we will all be made perfect and even the persistent inclination to sin will be gone so that we may unashamedly and totally without reservation reflect the love of God. Heaven, then, may well look like the end of The Last Battle where all the world is the same, except it is bigger, brighter, truer. And devoid of the shadow of evil and sin -- the true image of creation and of God and fully reflective of God's love.

So what, then, of deafness? Of blindness? Of lameness, autism, or Down's? How do these impairments found in the physical body fit into this image of perfection? We already understand that perfection is a matter of grace and the soul. We understand that these people can follow and serve God and be made perfect by His grace. What does their perfection in heaven look like, then? Does it necessarily include a physical change to that which we call normal, or is it possible that these impairments will remain with them in heaven?

Now some people will argue that with the Fall of Man, the whole of creation was shaded by evil, and they would be correct. And they may further say that deafness, blindness, lameness, autism, Down's, and all the rest are manifestations of the physical effects of the Fall. And they may be right. But they may not be. They could argue that these people claim to be whole in who they are, impairment and all, simply because they are deluded by the sin that is in the flesh, but that is too simple. Rather, I think that perhaps God gave these people to us as a blessing and an opportunity for us to reflect His love. Just as The Necessary Beggar has mendicants who give us the chance to offer a blessing, so those who are impaired give us the chance to show them love and grace. And in return, they are given the chance to show love and grace by accepting it from us and by teaching us to see the world through their eyes. I am a poor person to speak on the blessings we receive from spending time with those who are impaired, although I have heard repeatedly from those who have had good opportunities to do so that it really is not you who blesses them, but they who bless you. And if that is true in this world, why should that not be true in the next as well, only all the more so?

I cannot say anything conclusively, having never been to heaven, but this is what I suspect: Heaven will be exactly as this world, except with infinitely more love for God will live in, among, and around us. We will be glorified in our bodies, yes, but we will retain those characteristics that make us His unique creations who all serve to reflect His image like the blind men and the elephant. And we will bless each other by our strengths and weaknesses and bless the Lord by doing so.

Predetermination, Free Will, and Narrative

I was having a discussion with a friend the other day, and the question of the co-existence of free will and prophecy came up. It is not uncommon for people to feel that if something in the future is fixed and unavoidable that free will must not exist. However, in the Christian tradition we have both. We have Paul who gave us a slough of statements regarding predetermination, and with that a requirement that humans have free will in order to truly worship and love God. So that leaves us with an issue. Things are predetermined and certain prophesied events must occur as they are fixed. I propose that a way to understand that is through the eyes of narrative.

When writing a story, many describe the characters as directing where they were going to go and what they were going to do. The characters take on lives of their own. The same could be argued for us. We are created by God. We are His creation. He has placed us in our families and given us certain characteristics. These are all elements that shape our backstory and who we are. And there is a general plot that is set into place that we are living within, along with our own subplots. So in that way we have no free will and our future is determined for us.

However, there is the issue of the characters taking on a life of their own. Because we, the characters, have depth and because different things motivate one that will not another, and we have different experiences, we can only decide what would make sense for us to decide. And I suggest that it is out decisions which drive us to a fixed point. It is not that the point is fixed and we are manipulated to reach it, but rather that a point is fixed because, due to who we are, we would never have chosen otherwise.

This includes situations where seemingly random events happen. It is because of our own decisions which are made based upon who we are that bring us to a certain place at a certain time, and it is because of the decisions of other people which are based upon who they are that brings them to do something at that certain place and time, or otherwise cause something to happen then and there. And we need not consider natural events that happen to us, for they have nothing to do with our own will, save that we were in the place where and when it occurred.

Because of this we can have a predetermined story and the foreshadowings of prophecy, and at the same time it happens by our free will. We, because we are who we are, make the decisions that lead to nothing other than what has been predetermined and foretold simply because what has been told is the result of who we are.

The Alexandrian

So I've submitted another poem to The Alexandrian. The theme for this issue is "Work" so we'll see if mine is accepted or not.

Photos from York

For those who are interested, I've started posting photographs from my trip to York, England at my deviantART account. You can see them here.

ICMS 2009

So I can now say that I have submitted an abstract for ICMS and had it accepted!

Of course, this means I actually have to write a paper, now, and present it. But still, I am excited and looking forward to scrounging up the time to actually work on this.

Learning to Seek God

I feel caught in a strange space right now. I feel as though I have been wandering from God in a slow drift, and now when I look back, I see what appears to be a great expanse between me and Him. And I wonder how long this drift has been happening to become so great.

It first came to my mind when I went to go to Eucharistic adoration the other day (the priests were on retreat, though, so there was no Eucharist to adore, alas). Suddenly a concept from Christian mysticism dealing with the idea of levels of heaven came into my head, along with the idea to better understand it and how it fits into one's prayer life. And more than that strange thing to come to mind, I realised that my present discomfort may be more than just a drifting in the past few weeks or months, but that perhaps some aspect of my life has been drifting for far longer. I do not question that I am meant to be Catholic, nor do I question its truth. But I feel as though I am missing something here, something which I may have been seeking after when I was a Protestant but have since been distracted from seeking. And I wonder if perhaps now is not the time to resume that pursuit.

I'm just not sure how, or even what it is that I am pursuing, or how my Catholicism fits into this pursuit (or if it fits in at all, aside from it being just another form of Christianity, although I believe it is more than so merely incidental). I am reasonably certain that to find where I am being drawn, to find what it is that I am chasing, I will be led deep into mysticism. But where or what aspects of it or even where to begin I am not sure. The name Teresa of Avila has come up several times in the past year or two, so perhaps I will begin there. And with prayer. I think I will need a guide to find my way and show me the way to Christ in this. It begins with His mother who was once my model for how to pray, many years ago. And I guess we will see from there.

The Beginnings of an Abstract

So I'm looking at the story of Saint Petronilla (I'd include a link, but both wikipedia and new advent have failed me by giving either weird versions of the story or no real story at all) for a paper to give at Kalamazoo this coming year. The version I'm working with comes from Ælfric's Lives of Saints.

The summed up story is that Peter makes her ill for her benefit. Then Titus asks him why he lets her be ill when he heals everyone else and Peter says that it's good for her, but to prove that he can heal her, he tells her to get up and make dinner. So she does and she's totally healthy; she makes dinner, then goes to lie down and Peter makes her ill again. And from this she learned to fear God and later God healed her again and she went on to heal many others.

Now, aside from the fact that Peter comes off as looking like an arrogant jerk, it is interesting that in this time of healing for all, it is illness -- imposed illness, even -- that is edifying for her. The whole passage (there are a lot more miracles and the most detailed sound lifted out of Acts and dropped into other places) is meant to tell the miracles of Saint Peter to honour him and to edify the reader. However, the second story about Petronilla (there are two at the end of this series of tales of Saint Peter) is very different stylistically. So I am hoping to examine the intent of these exact tales. And in any event, it's a neat story.

And I was in Arcadia

I'm back in Toronto.

An Update of Sorts

I am sure that all two of you are waiting with bated breath to hear the results of the e-mail I was writing a while ago.

So far it is optimistic! They sound interested, although understandably cautious. Right now the conversation is on hold until the prof I was talking with returns to York from a trip, which will be later in August.

And until then I have work for one more week and at the same time I prep for my trip to York to visit Eaquae Legit.

And in that time, I am making trilobites from copper wire.

On Succeeding in Life, or Not

Students chart zigzag routes, study finds

The two paragraphs that I found most interesting in this article are these:

"The downside of the findings, Prof. Finnie said, is that the numbers show that many students are not content with the choices they make out of high school. (The Statscan numbers do not take into account enrolment patterns of mature students.)

Some switching is probably healthy, Prof. Finnie figures, but so much movement suggests that a portion of students are either turned off by their campus experience, don't have enough information going in, or are unprepared."

"The downside" is an interesting choice of words. I would not call this situation a downside so much as the inevitable push for students to know by sometime in grade 10 Exactly What They Will Do For The Rest Of Their Lives After University Which They Will Certainly Attend Or Fail And Die Alone In A Gutter Somewhere Forgotten By Everyone. Of course many students are not content with their choices that they make just after high school! What do you expect? I mean, really! We are taught that we have to go to university, and if we take a year off after high school we will never go back. I was told that countless times by numerous people in my final year of high school when I had decided to take a year off to make some money to afford to go to school. Aside from the fact that I would have gone back anyway, I half went back just to spite everyone who said I'd never do it.

If you are going to expect people to jump right in and never get to know what the real world is like, you can't expect them to stay in their first choice right out of high school. How many people stick to their first job? I'd bet that that percentage is lower than the figures given for students who don't change either programmes or schools.

That incessant belief that people have to be students to be really successful and that they should know what they want to do right out of high school is a huge problem. If we would accept that maybe, just maybe there are other options, and maybe not everyone who can be successful -- even a successful academic -- should go to university as soon as they finish high school, maybe we would have a far more successful and happier society. And maybe we wouldn't have so many people who are only in school because their parents are making them and they've been told that if they don't go to school they won't succeed in life.

Prepping for Applying to Grad School

So I'm looking to apply to the Research English and Literature programme at the University of York. I really want to do a research degree instead of a taught degree, and as their Medieval Studies programme only does a taught degree for the MA level (and their course modules are very sparse and uninteresting to me), I will try to look at medieval stuff through the English department. There are a number of profs who are both in English and Medieval Studies (which is multi-disciplinary at York), so that should not be a problem there. What I do need to do, however, is find a topic that I would like to research for a year, that I can research for a year, and that someone will be willing to supervise me for.

I am seriously thinking about studying disability in medieval fables and the roles that disability and the disabled have in medieval fables and in fables in the middle ages. One source I can look at is the Romulus Anglicus version of Aesop's fables, said to be written around late antiquity or the early medieval period, as well as Alexander Neckham's Novus Aesopus, assuming I can find a copy. One thing that cannot be contested is the presence of disability in Aesop, and by these two sources, it is evident that they were used and re-worked in the medieval period. The real question there would be, is there enough to write a thesis? A search of Google, JSTOR and of the UofT library system suggests that at the very least, Aesop and disability has not been deeply examined (which means either I suck at searches, I've found a new and exciting topic and it's mine all mine, or there's not enough to make it worthwhile to write on it). I could also look at other fables from the middle ages, which would take at least a bit of searching.

And now that Greg has shown up and helped me write an e-mail to a prospective supervisor, I wait! *Quakes with FEAR*

Adoration, and Classes, and Wedding! Oh my!

I am going to have a very busy year, this next year. Right now a small group of us at the Newman Centre are planning a weekly Eucharistic adoration service. Many churches have adoration services, including Newman (on Fridays at 1pm), but less common is a service where there is music involved. It's certainly not new, but it's not extremely common, either. We are still sorting out exactly the format and pattern of music and silence, but we are looking to combine those two elements in the adoration service. There was one thing that struck me as interesting. From what I can tell, it was suggested that there might not be a demand for an adoration service, especially as the one that they already have does not have an overwhelming attendance. To that, two things came to my mind: first that 1pm on a weekday is not the most accessible time slot by any stretch of the imagination; and second, that just because there has been no perceived demand does not mean we cannot create a demand. If it is made, they will come.

I also thing this may be a good way for me to keep myself praying in a regular manner. Sure, I go to church every week, but that time is like tithing, in a sense. It is time and prayer given willingly, but it is entirely expected that I give them, because they are not mine to withhold. Other prayer and time are fully free gifts, and they are good gifts to give, and good to spend with God. And I feel I have not done so well at that this past while. So in addition to my looking forward to worshiping in this manner and getting something like this going at Newman, the accountability involved in organising such a time would be good.

The next major thing I have is that I just finished shopping for classes. And it was something like dragging the bottom of the barrel for the degree I'm less enthused about. At the end of the day I am taking The Medieval Tradition, Celtic Spirituality, and The Medieval Child to finish my Medieval Studies degree, and Canadian English, Psychology of Language, Advanced Phonology, Advanced Syntax, and Disorders of Speech and Language to finish my Linguistics degree. The Psychology of Language class is rather a last minute addition. I had planned to take Introduction to Semantics, if only to have another 200-level arts class instead of a 300-level science class, but it conflicted with the time that Eucharistic Adoration is at. So we will see how it goes. The first semester will be five classes and almost entirely Linguistics, save for the year-long The Medieval Tradition (nothing like leaving the intro course until last, right?). And then the second semester will be four classes and almost entirely Medieval Studies, save for Advanced Phonology. I hope that it will all go well. And I am very sad not to have room for a Latin class. Well, technically, I do, but I'd rather relax with only 4 classes. We will see if I decide to drop in a 200-level Latin just so I can read 30 lines a night and it'll all be Caesar, having built bridges, killing Gauls.

And then, to top it all off, I need to start planning a wedding and making phone calls (anxiety!!!) and all that jazz. I should really get on finding a photographer very soon.

A New Way of Looking at Narnia, Perhaps?

One opposition I have often seen in people towards Narnia is that "it is an allegory and Aslan is blatantly Jesus". They find that it is too simplistic, and when they pursue their evidence, they find it is tangled and confusing, which is even worse because it's not even a perfectly clear allegory or metaphor for Christ and Christianity.

I disagree with this, however. I am reading Wetherbee's translation of Silvestris's Cosmographia (I may yet drag Greg into reading it in Latin with me!), and I am seeing parallels in the story telling to what I see in Narnia. Or rather, parallels in the understanding of the relation of the story to the "real" world. Especially right now I am seeing a different way of understanding the figure of Aslan. In Cosmographia there is a character called Noys (νουσ). She is not God, nor is she Jesus. Neither does she appear to be created or creation. She is rather the mens dei, the mind of God, Providence, "true Minerva to me".¹ She is, in a way, that pattern of God's mind upon which the universe is founded. From what I understand of the whole story, God never once figures Himself in it. Rather, Noys is His representative to Natura, Hyle/Silva (primordial matter personified), et al.

The role of Aslan holds some similar characteristics to the role of Noys. Aslan is not the Emperor over the sea, nor is he really an exact parallel to Jesus. Aslan's primary role, in many ways, is as a guide for Narnia, and he ultimately keeps and restores Narnia to order, to the pattern intended for it. He creates the world and sets people to rectify its flaw from the beginning (the presence of Jadis, also similar to the flawed nature of Silva); later he restores Narnia from the curse of the Hundred Years' Winter; and throughout all of the story of Narnia we see Aslan acting as a director and judge of sorts, conforming creation to the pattern for which it was created.

I'm still only just beginning to investigate, so this is still a certain degree of speculation, of course. We will see how far I can reasonably take this and hopefully I'm not stretching it beyond reasonability.



1 Vite viventis ymago,
Prima, Noym -- deus -- orta deo, substantia veri,
Consilii tenor eterni, michi vera Minerva"

The image of living life, first, Noys -- God -- rising from God, substance of truth, course (pattern) of eternal counsel, true Minerva to me

Victor Turner Strikes Back!

Alison mentioned our old friend Victor Turner this evening to me, and then in discussion with Greg I realised that liminal theory could be applied to the notion of Other in society.

For those who are not familiar with Arthur Van Gennep's liminal theory, later used by the anthropologist Victor Turner, it goes as follows:

There are three stages: Separation, Liminality, and Reaggregation. First a person is separated from their community; then they are in a state that is called Liminality where they are neither a member of the community, nor a stranger; then, once whatever rites of passage need to be completed, they are taken in again, or reaggregated, back into society with a new status. The concept comes from the Latin word limen meaning "threshold". When you are on the threshold you are neither in nor out of the house. You are in a state of liminality.

Apply this then to the notion of Other. I will direct you to Alison's post at In The Middle where she says, regarding the role of disabled people in the sacraments in the Middle Ages, that

[t]he ritual difference between a child and an adult is the basis for my use of the term “sacral disability”: being barred or hindered from full participation (inclusion in the rites and sacred responsibilities considered the norm for their age) in the religious life of the community due to a perceived Otherness. Spiritual adulthood carries different rights and responsibilities than legal adulthood, and thus the requirements for sacral adulthood do not necessarily correspond to the requirements for legal adulthood, and this highlights the need to examine each vernacular in its own context.

What we see here in this suggestion is that in the case of sacral disability, someone is being denied permission to take part in an essential rite of maturity in a community: they may not step onto and across that limen that will take them to adulthood. Disability, then, may be described in terms of whether or not one is permitted to undertake that liminal experience at all. If one is not permitted to take the Sacrament of Penance or the Eucharist, why? If it is a status question, in terms of not having attained adult or mature status through the community's rite of passage, why have they not undertaken this rite? If the community is blocking them, why and how? Preventing an individual from undertaking a rite of passage must be for a reason and it is liable to set up a state of Other, although may not necessarily do so.

This may not describe all cases of Other, but it is a different way of considering the notion which I must examine further.

Sense and the Other

I've often thought on the senses and how people experience them. Last night Greg and I were talking about how there is an inherent sense of Other between people in that we cannot know through their person how they are experiencing something. We can know through a series of metaphors and things that are similar in our own experiences, but we cannot know it through their own bodies and souls. This, of course, speaks to a certain weakness of language in its inability to clearly express certain things fully.

Along with that discussion came up the experience of music, and how we experience music. Music is not experienced merely aurally, but on some level that is deeper. Greg said that it is almost visual, which struck me because that is also how I tend to experience music. There is something behind the eyes, just beyond my reach, but I can often sense a whole series of scenes and images when I listen to music. In the same way, light has volume and sound. How often have we said that a very brightly coloured shirt is loud?

And this, I think, can probably be extended to all of the senses in truth. They are not merely experienced on the surface through the organ that receives them, but they are experienced deeper. How many people have memories associated with smell, so that even the scent of it draws up an emotional well? How many find that sound and light draw out images and signs and hearing in our soul? Even touch and taste must hold keys to our memories, our experiencing of the world.

I suspect they go deeper to a common root, a central core. There is some centre in our being that receives this input and interprets it holistically. Psychologists and scientists will speak of the plasticity of the brain -- its ability to adapt itself in the occasion of injury or unusual differences to allow for normal functioning in an abnormal manner in terms of what part of the brain is doing what. Perhaps this is related to that, but I believe that receiving of sensory input goes to a centre that is not just divisions of the optical, and the aural, and the olfactory, and the gustatory, and the tactile, but from those divided regions on the surface of the sphere to the core of it where there is no Smell, or Sight, or Sound, or Taste, or Touch, but rather it is the heart of Sense. Just as there is neither Jew nor Greek, they are made one as Sense in the hearts of people.

Perhaps I am entirely off base on this. Perhaps I am not. Perhaps I am merely rambling by this point. But if this is indeed the case, what does this mean for our experience of the world, and what does this mean for the divisions of the world between One and Other? If this mingling of the senses into Sense is true in each of us, does it expand beyond that to something that resembles a greater consciousness, a greater awareness? Is it simply restricted to individuals and we are forever divided by our experiences?

And suddenly I am reminded of the notions of Catholic Mystery. Especially of the Mystery of the Trinity and the Mystery of union in marriage and union of the Body of Christ that is the Church and the Eucharist. Is it possible that this centre that is Sense in all of us is not just real, but essential for our being and that it ties into that which comes from Christ and makes us One and Whole with Him?

Sonnets of Lightness and Darkness

In a step away from academic endeavors, I recently received a reminder of an online journal, The Alexandrian, reaching near the deadline for its July issue, themed Time and Eternity. I decided to send in two sonnets I wrote some time ago which are read as a pair, Sonnets of Lightness and Darkness. They are something of a cosmology with an element of psychomachia. It had been my plan to submit them to a journal some time ago, but I never got around to it. Greg was kind enough to help me edit them into their present copy. His insights on the senses and the use of visuals was most helpful indeed!

And now, I guess, I wait to see if they are accepted.

One for the Money, Two for the Show...

And it seems that C.S. Lewis and the Asclepius, and even Apuleius altogether, is being discussed in "The Daimones of C. S. Lewis," by David H. Sick, which was published online in Literature and Theology Journal on 3 December 2007 and will be in a print copy in June 2008. So I guess it's back to square one. Although now I have reason enough to look at C.S. Lewis and something to do with medieval studies, now.

[Edit: It appears I wrote June 2007 instead of June 2008, when it is really coming out.]

Scooped!

And some sixty years before I got the idea, even. Drat. I was hoping to work on a talk for Kalamazoo discussing how Bernardus Silvestris's Cosmographia was influenced by the Asclepius. Last night I came across a reference to an article entitled "Bernard Silvester and the Hermetic Asclepius," by Robert B. Woolsey, published in 1948. The opening paragraph reads thus:

"Examination of the De universitate mundi¹ by Bernard Silvester and the Hermetic Latin Asclepius proves that Bernard had studied the Hermteticist's work. It is the intent of this paper to report not only that proof, but as well to explain to what extent Bernard applied his own composition what he had learned from his study."²

Yeah. So I will still comb through those works necessary, but it looks like my topic may have been covered rather directly, as that is exactly what I wanted to study, some thirty-seven years before I was even born.

In slightly brighter news, Mr. Woolsey has given me something further to investigate. When discussing the usage of the figure of Oyarses in both the Asclepius and the Cosmographia, he says that instead of being the governor of each celestial sphere, as per the Asclepius, "he has discarded the sense of rule; in Oyarses he employs only the notion of essence or true quality."³ For anyone who has read C. S. Lewis's Space Trilogy, the name Oyarses calls rapidly to mind the figure of Oyarsa (pl. Oyarses), the ruler of Malacandra, and indeed the name and role given to the rulers of all the celestial spheres. This being is similar to a spirit, and might be called the spirit or essence of the planet itself, and is the ruler of that planet. This suggests that Lewis either merely expanded upon the notion of Oyarses as the essence of the celestial spheres into it also being the ruler of the celestial spheres, or he acquired the notion elsewhere -- perhaps even from the Asclepius. So now I have that which I can investigate. It may be an isolated case, or perhaps Lewis did read and borrow from the Asclepius. Now for me to check up and see if anyone has already written on this...

1 Another name for the Cosmographia.
2 Robert B. Woolsey, "Bernard Silvester and the Hermetic Asclepius," Traditio 6 (1948), 340.
3 Ibid. 343.

Library Trips and School Plans

So yesterday I spoke with MOC, the programme co-ordinator for Medieval Studies at St. Michael's. He says I only need two more classes in that major to graduate, so I will be doing the intro course (what a way to end!) and I may do a thesis. The thesis depends on my finding a sufficient corpus to work with as well as someone willing and able to supervise me. I'm thinking about doing a thesis on disability in fables in the middle ages. MOC says that it sounds like a very good idea, but agrees that I need the groundwork first. So we'll see.

And today I went to the library and photocopied a large portion of Brian Copenhaver's Hermetica, namely the Asclepius as well as as many notes as I could before my photocopy card ran out. So I took the book out as well to see if there is some of the introduction I should copy as well. Then I grabbed Peter Dronke's edition of Bernardus Silvestris's Cosmographia, as well as Winthrop Wetherbee's translation of it, as well as Brian Stock's book, Myth and Science in the Twelfth Century. After Confession I shall take them home and begin working, I hope.

A Revelation About Confession

I was reading Lord, Have Mercy, by Scott Hahn, today, and I was struck by a particular phrase. It talks about how the Jews say that "Only God can forgive sins" when Jesus forgave the adulteress and that is why they were so mad at Him and calling him a blasphemer. Then, when Jesus gives the Holy Spirit to His disciples and says that whatever they bind is bound and whatever they loose is loosed, I took that to refer to whatever any Christian binds or looses is done.

But then I thought about Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. On that day the Jews are required to make amends with everyone whom they have wronged in the past year and ask forgiveness. Presumably that means forgiveness may be given by those whom they wronged. This means that not just God can forgive sins. That means that in that context there is something more going on. Jesus is not just offering her human forgiveness, but rather it must be divine absolution on the behalf of God (as He is God). This not only forgives her for betraying her husband, but clears her of her wrongdoing in a divine and holy sense. And that kind of forgiveness can only come from God. I used to be of the mind that you only had to go to God to ask forgiveness, and this is true. But God also asks us to confess our sins to one another, and that's where Jesus' gift of allowing us to forgive as He forgave the adulteress (what you bind and what you loose shall be bound and shall be loosed) comes into play. That is what is happening in confession with a priest. And that is why confession to a priest is so important.

Jesus was not merely saying that we could forgive each other when we sin against each other, as I once understood that passage. He was saying that we can forgive each other of our sins against God. I still do not see how it works that this gift and permission remains only with the priests, but I am still near the beginning of the book. Intuitively I understand; I just can't state out clear theological reasoning for why it remains only with ordained priests.

Engagement and Kalamazoo

It's been a while since I've written properly.

These past few weeks have been full of hectic chaos. In that time I've started working full time, went camping, gained a fiancée, went to the International Congress of Medieval Studies at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, and returned to working full time. And then Sunday a friend of mine will be arriving from BC via Sarnia, so I will be picking her up from the train late at night. It will be pretty awesome. Sadly, that same night while I am yet at church, my newly gained fiancée will be returning to England. Ah well, I shall see her soon again in August when I finally get to cross the big water myself for the first time.

Pardon me while I take a paragraph or two to brag about proposing and the cunning that went into it. A few months ago, a friend of Alison and myself knew I was planning to propose to Ali and suggested that I do so up at a campsite where she has been going her entire life. This campground is very important to her. So I asked our friend to talk with her and see how she felt about it, because I did not wish to overload her with arriving in Canada and then going camping right away. Before too long, Ali seemed excited about the idea. After a long list of things that could have gone wrong (work booking me during the camping time, the ring not getting back from the sizers, etc.) everything fell more or less into place. Alison returned on 2nd May and the day after we drove up to the campground with her, our friend, and two other friends. We were staying in a cabin because it would be warmer and more enjoyable. On Sunday, 4th May, we had a full day up there which we were enjoying a lot. At some point I asked Ali if she'd like to go for a walk with just the two of us as a chance to be together alone. She agreed that we'd go on that walk in the afternoon. Later we left and took one of the trails. After walking for a short bit she stopped at the crest of a hill. And I had the sense that that was the time for it, and knelt and asked her to marry me. It was generally a very shaky and wonderful experience. We then sat on a rock for a while, happy. Later, after she got over the shock that the whole camping trip was not just a convenient timing to propose but in fact entirely for the purpose of proposing, we went back up for some pictures, and she proposed to me with a gorgeous clockwork pocket watch. We plan to get it engraved with the date: 4th May, 2008. She is wonderful and we are both very happy and looking to get married the August after I graduate.

After we got back from camping (we left the day after), we had a day before leaving to the ICMS in Kalamazoo. That was a wonderfully awesome conference. I know I did not get as much out of it as others, but I am slowly defining my interests so that I will get more out of such conferences in the future. I find I keep returning to fables and children's literature. I like the magic of a story; especially a story that relates to the world. I feel more driven to fix up that paper I wrote on Bernardus Silvestris's Cosmographia and the Asclepius. I'd like to prep it to make an abstract to present next year at Kalamazoo. I also would like to consider a paper on C.S. Lewis. I think there is more that can be done with his work than has been done. Everyone likes to focus on Tolkien, but I am sure that there is work to be done yet with Lewis and the fabula (not fabliaux!).

Alison met a fellow in her rather small field who was very enjoyable named Greg. He was great to visit with and I'm sure the two of them will help each other with scholarship. I'm looking forward to picking up some Signed English from him at some point in the future.

Anyway, that is all for now.

Water

This morning had a strange waking. I woke up nearly an hour before my alarm (I have been habitually waking up strange amounts of time before my alarm on little sleep, lately) and heard rumbling outside. Soon I also perceived the sound of heavy rain and realised that it was thunder and lightening and rain I was hearing. And as much as thunder makes me uneasy, there was a strange consolation in the heavy bars of rain. I did not want to go out in it, but would rather have stayed in, listening to the rain and looking out at it. When I woke again after drifting back to sleep, the rain had stopped. By the time I got to school it was as though there never were a rain. And this saddened me inside.

One thing I have seen in myself is a love of water. Water is something that moves my soul, that comforts and consoles it, that heals and soothes. Music that has water in it often leaves a near physical impression on me, drawing me in. Waters draw up images of the ocean, rivers and creeks, lakes, and the rain -- dropping into weightlessness and drifting forever in a certain bliss of comfort, the soul and heart and body and mind being washed in the seas. There is the sensation of not stopping the rain, nor blocking its flow, but of the waters passing through me, flowing through me, with me as a conduit for it, a channel it may pass through on its journey. And I feel it washing myself with itself into the greater waters, joining me to it and joining me to creation, the living and beating life and heart and being of creation.

A Yet-Unfulfilled Mission?

A great person once said that the first millennium of Christian faith was the millennium of the monastic. The second millennium of the Christian faith was the millennium of the secular ordained. And he said that he felt this next millennium of Christian faith would be the millennium of the laity, and let it be so.

A friend of mine has recently lamented our approach to the vocation of marriage. When looking at the diocese website she finds that, in the discussion of various vocations, there is information on the monastic life and on the life of the secular clergy, but a vocation to marriage is only mentioned in passing at the end, and even then only alluded to. What do we think of the vocation of marriage? Is it so base and common that it hardly counts as a vocation? And yet I read an anecdote, I believe in an article written by Ron Rolheiser, of an ascetic who returns home after seven years in the desert meditating on the Eucharist of Christ to see that his mother, who has never had a moment in her life of her own because of chasing after children and living the family life, is a deeper contemplative than he is. And this because she learned to give herself fully over to God, as she had given herself over to her family. Her family became a model teaching her how to give herself fully to God.

I am presently reading a book on one of the greatest mystics of our time, reading her writings and commentary on them, and marking my way through it so that I might learn and apply to my life what she learned and what she felt and what she can teach us and me. She was a nun, although a nun living in the world. And we all venerate the greatness of God through her life and actions in Calcutta. She was a nun, one who was set apart by God from the more common life of marriage and working 9-5 to return home, leaving work for the day. We can't be like her unless we deny the flesh and devote our bodies and our spirits solely to God in the way that she did. Can we?

I also see our respect and deference to the secular clergy. His Grace, Archbishop Thomas Collins, really is a spectacular man and a man of deep spiritual leading, I believe. In the hearts of many he is even akin to a celebrity, and I will confess to having succumbed to that feeling as well at times. He leads the Church in Toronto and inspires holiness in its youth and a passion for the will of Christ. And these things are all true. People follow his leading to Christ. We can't be like him unless we deny the flesh and devote our bodies and spirits solely to God in the way that he does. Can we?

Or can we? The Church has many heroes and heroines who denied their sexuality and followed Christ. Is it possible to have our Mother Teresas and Archbishop Thomas Collins among those who follow Christ to a family? For indeed Christ must lead us to bear families and serve him in the family life. If he does not, then we who raise families truly are weaker and less holy than those of the consecrated life by our very nature. If he does not, the Kingdom of God is torn apart by a caste system. And then we, who feel strongly, powerfully, truly called to raise a family for Christ... what of us?

No, we must have our own vocation which is as blessed and as holy as to the monastic life and as to the secular clergy. Whether it be recognised officially in the Church, whether it be recognised colloquially by the people, whether we can accept a vocation to such deep holiness as Christ can raise up in the life of a family, it must be true. Marrying is not simply succumbing to our passions and the lusts of the flesh: it is worshiping God with our whole bodies and experiencing the passion of the Eucharist in an intense and one-forming way, making us one with each other and one with God, and indeed His whole Church.

Can we have a married Mother Teresa? I do not know; but by the Grace of God I must believe that He will raise me up to be that, and that He will do so in the family He has called and indeed driven me to partake in.

Holy Thursday

I'm amazed at how much I do not remember of what happens on a given day during Easter. For example, I forgot that Holy Thursday means a foot washing ceremony. Father Pat did not call on me as one of his random people from the congregation, but all the same, it was a wonderful service. And again I was blessed to be able to keep vigil with our Lord in the garden.

I read a portion of Mother Teresa, Come Be My Light and was struck with how close I feel to the words I read in one of her letters. She spoke of things in her past which I struggle with and fight against now, namely pride. And she spoke about once having a fear of crosses, but now embracing them before they even come. This was encouragement to me, as I am sometimes blessed to see that a cross will be coming to me, and it does strike fear in me and I am ashamed of it. She has much consolation and wisdom to share for me. I do know some of what I have been called to do, although the specifics are not yet present in my mind. It frightens me because I know that I am too proud and because of such a vice I should not be given any such gift, but yet I am given it all the same. This pride that lives in my heart of hearts cuts and scratches as a thorn and a burr and in doing so, keeps and shall keep me humble. I can only hope that this is true and I will truly learn it.

A Prayer

Easter looms large in my vision. Tomorrow is Holy Thursday.

Lord, I wonder why you have given me what you have? And I both fear and hope that it is because of this season. But if it is, I will be sad at having lost this intimacy with you. But if it is not, I will, shamefully, feel the relief of someone no longer looking over my shoulder. But really, I want you to guide me so closely. I want to obey you in your directions which have such clarity. It is my fear of where you are leading that makes me hesitant. But I should not fear my destination, because if you are taking me there, you will be with me. More fearful would be to remain here in a pleasance without you than to go into trial with you. And so I suppose I must go with you. You who speaks through me must be with me and carry me forward as a rushing stream and help me to trust in you to guard me and prepare me as needed. And if you are for me, who can be against me? So tomorrow I will begin the walk to Calvary with you. And once it is finished, and once you are risen indeed, let me take up my cross with you and follow you. Be my Simon that I might follow you to Calvary.

Palm Sunday and Holy Week

Today was Palm Sunday. One year ago, this was The Countdown. On this day, a year ago, I began the one week countdown to acceptance into full communion with the Catholic church and Confirmation. As was said in church, this evening, this entire week is in essence one liturgy: we enter on Palm Sunday, we experience the first reading on Holy Thursday, we keep vigil with prayers as though psalms, we experience the second reading on Good Friday, then on Easter Sunday we celebrate the consecration of the Host and are sent forth.

[The next day]

It was interesting. I have felt a certain desolation of the soul in the past while growing. Yesterday it reached a certain clarity: it was a desolation tied to the journey which we follow. Palm Sunday is one of the most ironic days of the year, to me. And in a most painful way. Here we are waving our palms and celebrating the triumphant entrance of Jesus into the holy city, and in a few days we will torture and kill him. These palms are the nails of guilt, piercing the flesh. How appropriate that we should fold them into crosses which redeem their nature which drives our hopeless guilt and shame into our hearts. Instead, in this new form, their message is reformed to one naming our guilt and speaking forgiveness.

An Overdue Update

I've finished reading that book, now, and I expect I shall read it again. It has a strong emphasis upon learning to listen through journaling. I've started journaling a little, and I have found it to be a very good exercise, although a challenge to establish as a discipline. However, one must look on the source of why it is challenging: whether it is God telling you something, or if it is a sign that you should be pursuing it all the more as the devil seeks to stop you from getting closer to God. In this case, for myself, I believe it is either the latter or my lack of discipline, or something of both.

In other news, I've been reading Anticlaudianus, by Alain de Lille for Latin class. It is an interesting work, although I tend to agree with C. S. Lewis on the value of this work (Lewis had Opinions on it and Alain de Lille). Allegory of Love discusses it and Cosmographia, by Bernardus Silvestris; and while a certain kindness is extended to Bernardus for the originality of his topic, he tears Alanus ab Ilanus to shreds as an unoriginal hack. On the whole it was an intriguing analysis which I do not fully agree with, although I certainly do to a certain extent.

And on a more random note, steampunk computer things! I cannot believe I did not know about this genre until recently. Or rather, that it existed as its own genre.

Hearing God's Voice

I'm too tired to write properly on this right now, but I have been reading a book my grandma gave me written by a former senior pastor of my church called Hearing God's Voice. It's actually seven keys, but so far it is excellent. Vern Heidebrecht is an excellent and wise speaker and writer whom I cannot praise highly enough. When I have more time, I will begin posting on what I am learning in this book, and possibly its application in my life.

De natura domi

In this past while, I have found myself in an awkward position when referring to the place where my permanent address is. It is where I regularly lived for five years until I left for university. It is where my family still lives. However, for the year or two preceding my leaving for university it had distinctly ceased to have that feeling which most people call "home". Instead I felt something like a visitor or a stranger in what was my home.

I am presently living in a flat with a few room-mates, and nothing of this strange city carries a sense of home about it, either. And so when I think about going back to BC, I am stuck as to how I should refer to it. Am I going back home? It really is not my home, per se. But then, it is also the closest thing I have to a physical location that might be called home. It is more than my parents' home, but it is not entirely my home, either, nor could I ever settle in their home again.

So this begs the question of what is the nature of "home"? Are there any inherent qualities which determine what makes a given place home? Or do the properties of home depend on things independent of location?

I know that when I am with certain people, the sense of home is stronger than without those people no matter where we are or what we are doing. However, being with those same people in one place versus another does affect how uniform that sense of home is.

This means that home must be comprised of both those around one and where one presently is with those people. Which leaves me to wonder what that means for my sense of "returning home" to the place that is home no more.

On the Medieval Book Mid-Term

Someone pointed out to me, today, that if I can write a mid-term, which I did not study for save for briefly glancing at one example which might be covered, after having stayed up most of the night working on and stressing over a Latin presentation and still feel like I did well on it, I should pay attention. To be fair, I was fortunate and the example of Insular Half-Uncial I pulled up in a Google search was from the Lindisfarne Gospels, which was one of the facsimiles we were given a sample of to examine on our test. As soon as I saw the question asking us to comment on one of the facsimiles, I just recorded what I remembered from looking online a few minutes earlier, that the Latin is in Insular Half-Uncial and the English glosses are in Insular minascule. That said, it was fun hunting down what was abbreviated and what was not and commenting on that.

A Meditation on this Season of Lent

As of Wednesday we began the season of Lent, the season which heralds Christ's passion and resurrection. And so with him we wander forty days in the desert, praying and fasting, as Israel wandered fort years in the desert awaiting the promised land, and Noah and his family watched the rain come down, obliterating and renewing the Earth for its unveiling as a new creation.

Many people, in this modern age, choose, for the season of Lent, to take up an act of charity (caritas) as opposed to giving something up as a fast. While I applaud those people for their positive piety, I fear we begin to forget the ancient journey that is Lent. For many years we have dwelt upon the desert, and now we choose to dwell on the living water which flows from the rock. But we mustn't forget that we are still in the desert. Christ spent forty days in the desert, both fasting and praying. He did not fast, dwelling only upon the solemn and hardship, as so many among us have been wont to do. Nor did he pray, dwelling only upon the divine and heaven, as so many among us are encouraged to do. Instead did both, praying and fasting, meditating solemnly in hardship upon his Father's heavenly will. Thus experiencing his humanity while being led by his divine nature.

It was not until the forty days had finished that the true temptation began. After the forty days, when he was physically exhausted from his fast, distinctly human, aware of the world through his hunger and thirst, sustained by spiritual bread and wine, he then faced a spiritual desolation. And so it is with us that after we have fasted for forty days, filling our hearts instead with prayer and charity, that we must face the desolation of watching our Lord and Saviour die. And in his dying and by his rising, withstanding the devil's temptation, he imparts to us his Body and Blood which imparts to us his divine nature by consummation of holy union.

This is the journey that is Lent; and this, that is the taking his freely given Body and Blood into ourselves, is the consummation which we celebrate every Sunday, and even every day we attend church. Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday teaches us day by day what it means to be Christian.

Options in Speech Pathology

My mum pointed out to me a further idea regarding my future occupation. For a while, now, my mum has been a fan of me going into speech pathology. Some time ago I looked at the University of Toronto's requirements in that area, and was fair terrified at how strict it was along with how many classes I do not have that I would need to get. Apparently they do not count a Linguistics degree as useful background for speech pathology.

However, fortunately the University of Waterloo does. I would need to e-mail them to be certain that that is indeed the programme I would have to apply to, but it is something to consider. Another school that my mum mentioned was the University of Victoria whom I did e-mail out of curiosity. Their Applied Linguistics degree also accepts a B.A. Hon. in Linguistics as sufficient background. So we shall see. This is one more option, and so far the only one with money in it, for me to consider.

[Edit] Further searching this afternoon brought up the University of British Columbia. However, looking at their prerequisites, it is unlikely I would be accepted. While they do not require 3rd year Syntax or Phonology, I definitely do not plan to take the former beyond 2nd year. I also have no psychology beyond 1st year, nor any research methods classes behind me. These would be obstacles at UBC, and quite possibly everywhere else, too.

The biggest thing that would make me hesitant about this field is that I very likely will not have the prerequisites needed, as I have very little psychology background and zero biology background. All I have is linguistics background.

On Cogs and Wheels

How I think has been passing through my head, lately. Perhaps it is all this focus on the many dreams I have been having lately, along with the constant sense of wanting to keep moving. In any event, I find I have tried to explain to people on occasion how I think, so I decided to attempt to explain it in a coherent fashion to myself.

It was once asked: Through what lens do you see the world? Is it a world moved by politics? by relationships? by economics? by religion? by something else? I stopped and considered the world, for a moment, and my approach to it. Every category suggested seems accurate and inaccurate all at once. And then it occurred to me that I view the world, existence, as a story.

In this story, there is an all-powerful, all-knowing being who exists outside of time and is called God. God can do anything He should desire, and this means that anything and everything is a possibility. And by that, I do not just mean it in a theoretical sense, but there is an active awareness that aliens could land, the mountains could dance a jig, the sun could remain fixed in the sky, the ground could open up and swallow a great population and close again as a great mouth. Sure I don't expect these things, but they are entirely possible and I have no issues accepting their possibility.

Along with that, there is an over-arching storyline to the tale of existence. Every life, every happening, and that which ties it all together -- all of it, on every level, has a storyline of varying complexities. And as with all stories, everything happens for a reason; everything advances the plot in some way, or develops character, or does something to bring the story along. All pain, all suffering, all joy, all peace happens for a reason and nothing is truly meaningless. No, God does not control this all like puppets on a string, although He, like all the other players, influences it and helps to direct it. Although, unlike any of the other players, He knows how it ends.

And so when tragedy strikes or anything happens, it strikes me as tragic, but part of me feels a detached excitement to see what will happen next. This may seem a bit heartless, and perhaps it is. I deeply and powerfully love individuals whom I come to know, but care little for those whom I do not come to know. Perhaps this is why I take little interest in biographies and instead prefer to read fairy tales.

Yet, really, I am not so heartless. Even as I type this, it reads as a characterisation of who I really am. And I believe that it is. But perhaps it gives voice to that great part of me which does not see things through the same kind of emotive lens that others often see the world. Questions of "how could this happen?" do not matter to me, and the question of "why?" voiced to the heavens so rarely crosses my lips.

"What next?"

"What should I do?"

"How?"

These, when I have not been blinded by pathos, come sooner and matter more to my understanding. But maybe I have merely described an ideal, and those who know me will tell the imagining from the truth. But in this moment, before my remembering fades again, this is my worldview. This is the lens through which I view the world. Through the eyes of the book.

Post, the First: In Which I Realise that Lent is but a Week Away

Today I decided to take a look at a liturgical calendar to see when Lent begins this year. I knew that Easter was early -- as early as it can ever be -- but I hadn't quite realised that Lent begins next week already.

This meant that I needed to start thinking about what I would fast from. At first nothing came to mind, as usual. (The past few years nothing has struck me until pretty much Ash Wednesday.) Well, something came a bit easier, this year, somewhat to my dismay. And it came in that resolute manner which means it was already decided almost as soon as I heard it. I am to give up webcomics for Lent. And beyond that, for that was not sufficient, being sacrifice for sacrifices sake (and with something so difficult, it would be a frustration more than anything), but to instead pray the rosary to restore my relationship with Mary and with God. And I am to pray the rosary when I feel myself itching to read webcomics and unable to focus on my studying. I can only hope and pray that I will be able to stick to this well and trust that I will grow deeply in the Lord, and the Lord, in me.