Alone on an Irish hillside, with time to wander, think and write...

Jeri,

No new blogs in a long while and now one that is unsettling. Are you ok?

Diane


I am. My April 14th post unsettled a few, including my husband. Smile. I knew it was "risky," but it reflects the acedia I live with in this longed-for season of freedom.

And if I often dwell there, a few others must, too.

After years of tight schedules, constant deadlines, and structure (complete with lots of community, feedback and strokes), solitude and freedom to choose my day can weigh heavily. Apparently I really LIKE the tyranny of the urgent, and all the reassurance of how much I am needed that comes with it. Smile again.

Kathleen Norris' latest book, Acedia & Me: Monks, Marriage, and a Writer's Life, gives me language and some understanding of this lethargic space that is my really good life. O, to throw off this indolence and choose Jesus’ presence and companionship in all the moments of my days.

Small acts of faithfulness in the throes of acedia

April 9th.
Got out of bed.

Read the daily reading. Prayed over it. Prayed for B, about whom I am confused and feel meaningless. Texted S about our promised coffee together, though I have no energy or desire for it.

Stretched and exercised a little. It made me feel nauseous. The feeling remains.

Took up again the Lenten fast I trashed yesterday.

Showered, washed my hair, and made the bed.

Nearly 11am already. I present myself for the writing assignment of the day.