The Domestic Monastery

A friend sent this to me, thanks Anne. What a beautiful meditation on our domestic church. I have felt the withdraw from society very acutely these past 6 months. Anyway, give it a read, it may speak to you the way it spoke to me. Definitely puts the daily duties into spiritual perspective. You can find the original article here.

The Domestic Monastery...

Ron Rolheiser OMI

January 7, 2001

Carlo Carretto, one of the leading spiritual writers of the past half-century, lived for more than a dozen years as a hermit in the Sahara desert. Alone, with only the Blessed Sacrament for company milking a goat for his food, and translating the bible into the local Bedouin language, he prayed for long hours by himself. Returning to Italy one day to visit his mother, he came to a startling realization: His mother, who for more than thirty years of her life had been so busy raising a family that she scarcely ever had a private minute for herself, was more contemplative than he was.

Carretto, though, was careful to draw the right lesson from this. What this taught was not that there was anything wrong with what he had been doing in living as a hermit. The lesson was rather that there was something wonderfully right about what his mother had been doing all these years as she lived the interrupted life amidst the noise and incessant demands of small children. He had been in a monastery, but so had she.

What is a monastery? A monastery is not so much a place set apart for monks and nuns as it is a place set apart (period). It is also a place to learn the value of powerlessness and a place to learn that time is not ours, but God's.

Our home and our duties can, just like a monastery, teach us those things. John of the Cross once described the inner essence of monasticism in these words: "But they, O my God and my life, will see and experience your mild touch, who withdraw from the world and become mild, bringing the mild into harmony with the mild, thus enabling themselves to experience and enjoy you." What John suggests here is that two elements make for a monastery: withdrawal from the world and bringing oneself into harmony with the mild.

Although he was speaking about the vocation of monastic monks and nuns, who physically withdraw from the world, the principle is equally valid for those of us who cannot go off to monasteries and become monks and nuns. Certain vocations offer the same kind of opportunity for contemplation. They too provide a desert for reflection.

For example, the mother who stays home with small children experiences a very real withdrawal from the world. Her existence is definitely monastic. Her tasks and preoccupations remove her from the centres of power and social importance. And she feels it. Moreover her sustained contact with young children (the mildest of the mild) gives her a privileged opportunity to be in harmony with the mild, that is, to attune herself to the powerlessness rather than to the powerful.

Moreover, the demands of young children also provide her with what St. Bernard, one of the great architects of monasticism, called the "monastic bell". All monasteries have a bell. Bernard, in writing his rules for monasticism, told his monks that whenever the monastic bell rang, they were to drop whatever they were doing and go immediately to the particular activity (prayer, meals, work, study, sleep) to which the bell was summoning them. He was adamant that they respond immediately, stating that if they were writing a letter they were to stop in mid-sentence when the bell rang. The idea in his mind was that when the bell called, it called you to the next task and you were to respond immediately, not because you want to, but because it's time for that task and time isn't your time, it's God's time. For him, the monastic bell was intended as a discipline to stretch the heart by always taking you beyond your own agenda to God's agenda.

Hence, a mother raising children, perhaps in a more privileged way even than a professional contemplative, is forced, almost against her will, to constantly stretch her heart. For years, while raising children, her time is never her own, her own needs have to be kept in second place, and every time she turns around a hand is reaching out and demanding something. She hears the monastic bell many times during the day and she has to drop things in mid-sentence and respond, not because she wants to, but because it's time for that activity and time isn't her time, but God's time. The rest of us experience the monastic bell each morning when our alarm clock rings and we get out of bed and ready ourselves for the day, not because we want to, but because it's time.

The principles of monasticism are time-tested, saint-sanctioned, and altogether-trustworthy. But there are different kinds of monasteries, different ways of putting ourselves into harmony with the mild, and different kinds of monastic bells. Response to duty can be monastic prayer, a needy hand can be a monastic bell, and working without status and power can constitute a withdrawal into a monastery where God can meet us. The domestic can be the monastic.

Baby part deux

Well, we ended up having an ultrasound on Friday. Everything is perfectly fine, just some heat-related weird stuff. But, silver lining was that we got this awesome picture of our new little baby!

Okay, it's sticking!

For those that don't know yet, consider this your news bulletin. We are officially at 13 weeks of pregnancy. If you didn't notice the little baby gadget to the left...I'm the "Mommy". So, super excited. A little frightened when I think about the logistics of managing 2 babies 11 month apart, but God wouldn't give these blessings and leave me high and dry. I'm confident that He'll be showering our family with everything that we need. And just to be sure, I'm talking to His mom a lot. :)

Just had a doctor's appointment today. Heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. Gave me goose-bumps. A strong 160 bpm. Yay! Everything looks good and we're officially in our 2nd trimester!

At the end of August (the 20-week mark) we'll likely be able to tell the baby's gender (yes, that's right, we're finding out. Don't worry, we'll be plenty surprised when they tell us...at the ultrasound. Then we'll be surprised and happy all over again when we get to meet the little guy or gal in person) and they'll do a 3-D ultrasound. Which is, seriously, one of the coolest things. You end up seeing your baby's face. No guessing if that black hole is an eye or just space. We're really looking forward to it!

The only lame-ish thing is that I have to switch OBs. For a lot of reasons, but mainly financial, we're opting for the Group Health plan at E's new job. I know, I know, there are commercials and billboards out there right now advertising that you can keep your doctors with GH now. Well, only if you have the "Options" plan and unfortunately that's not on the menu for us. C'est la vie. I'm not going to let it bother me too much at this point. The part that will bother me is giving up my thyroid doc. I think I'll still see him through the pregnancy and just count it as part of the cost. It's just too important to switch right now.

Okay, that about covers it then. I don't think this is a shocker for too many people out there. If it was, sorry about that...how do you think we felt? :)

Anywhodle, I'm off to try to sleep. It hasn't been the easiest thing for me lately.

Hope everyone had a nice Tuesday!

I'd like to teach the world...

...the correct usage of "I" and "me". Seriously. Don't get me wrong, I'm no grammar-nazi. You have only to read a paragraph of this blog to be assured of that (just like I'm not a spelling-nazi or a punctuation-nazi (my love of the comma and ellipse are fairly obvious)). I'm also not speaking to any one person, because there are gobs and skads and tons of people...college educated people...who don't seem to know this little grammar law.

Maybe it's because of my mom (sorry mom) or my english-major husband, but I cringe inwardly and sometimes physically flinch when I hear or read this infraction. Okay, so here is my schpiel.

First, the incorrect:

"Bill and me went on an awesome hike the other day."

"Here's Bill and I on our way to the big game.

The way you can tell these are wrong is by dropping the other person from the sentence (with some minor changes to the sentence to make it for one person) to see if it still makes sense.

"Me went on an awesome hike the other day." Um, not unless you're Animal from the Muppets.

"Here's I on my way to the big game." Again, not quite right. However, you could use "I" by further altering the sentence, but I don't want to muddy the lesson at this point.

Then there's the one that makes my eye twitch. You NEVER have to try to make "I" possessive. Ever. The proper possessives are "our," "my" or "mine" So, you should never do this:

"Bill and I's party was the bomb." mmmmuuh, I can barely type that without my head exploding.

Okay, so here are the correct ways to write all of these sentences...just for the sake of clarity.

"Bill and I went on an awesome hike the other day."

"Here's Bill and me on our way to the big game." Yes people, you can use "...and me" and it IS correct.

"Our party was the bomb."

If you are one of the people who abuse "I" (and you know who you are), trust me, proper usage (especially in business situations) will make you sound a whole lot more competent.

Okay, I'll step down off of my soapbox and return this blog back to its more frivolous nature. Thanks for letting me get that off of my chest.

Proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy...

I think this quote is attributed to Ben Franklin and he was expounding on the virtues of beer. Now, don't get me wrong, it was no mistake that beer was invented by monks. However, I am now convinced that the real evidence of God's love and mercy comes to us through CHEESE.

I have had a hankering for cheese lately. Who am I kidding, I'll take cheese just about any time. So strong is the love it is even part of what bonds me to some friends. Anyway, this craving sent me on a search for the perfect mac and cheese.

My first stop was a favorite site, smittenkitchen, and I wasn't disappointed. The recipe that I found was attributed to Martha Stewart and looked awesome. After reading through and making a shopping list I started to think that it sounded like a recipe from a MS cookbook that I owned...and it was! If you get this cookbook be warned, the drool begins when flipping through the pages. Seriously, at her judgement, whatever sins Martha has committed, I think God should really take this recipe (and the happiness that it has brought to me and many others) into consideration. :)

I used a nice English sharp white cheddar from Costco called Coastal. I was hoping for Beecher's Flagship (THE best cheese ever) but I needed 18 ounces and that would have been pretty costly, so I settled for the Coastal which turned out to be perfect. I also went with the Gruyere instead of the Pecorino Romano, another good choice. For the bread crumbs I used a buttermilk white bread.

I would have put a picture up...but a) my tiny kitchen was a bit of a disaster after the cooking and b) I was too busy inhaling as much of this stuff as I could. MMMMMMMMMMM. If you know what's good for you, make this.

It's official!

time flies when you have a baby!

I can hardly believe that it's been over 2 months since my last post!! Sorry to all of my faithful readers (read Mom). :) Since I only have a tiny amount of "two-handed" time, I'll just post some pictures. However, the chickens are doing fine as are the dog and the hubby.

These are 2-month pictures. She's wearing a little outfit that was mine when I was a baby!

Instead of putting a quarter next to her to give you an idea of her growth, here she is in the same outfit, then and now.

At 1 day old:

At 2 months and 10 days old:

Below: Pictures with Grandma and Grandpa P.