By way of background, I came to the view that a good share of personal mortification and kenosis was needed over the past year after experiencing a fairly grave personal disappointment and realizing that I was none too young any longer. Fine, our selfish illusions always stand in the way of our seeing things as they truly are.It's been a period filled with great self-dissatisfaction, ambivalence about the path in which I'm being led, and the persistent question as to whether I even have the right to an opinion about it. This emptiness is perhaps now getting unhealthy, as friends have indicated their concerns that I seem just a bit too dour and deterministic.
And they're right. A good self-examination shows that I'm rather unhappy. Somewhere within, there's a rather deep longing going unfulfilled, and it's not a very intellectual thing to gauge what it is, but this pesky intellect just seems to be getting in the way. Clear it out enough to determine it--to truly feel it, that is to say, as I already have some suspicions as to what it is--do I just detach from it to live the way I've been living, or see it is the reason that I've been detaching from so much and let it carry me along? Is this the fire of the Holy Spirit, welling up in the hearts of His faithful to answer the prayers offered to the Father? Then, mortification of that would be grievous, a sin of ignorance, a blight on our holiness. There's nothing holy about a frustrated ascetic. The prayer moving me daily now is:
Come, Holy Spirit, replace the tension within me with a holy relaxation.
Replace the turbulence within me with a sacred calm.
Replace the anxiety within me with a quiet confidence.
Replace the fear within me with a strong faith.
Replace the bitterness within me with the sweetness of grace.
Replace the darkness within me with a gentle light.
Replace the coldness with me with a loving warmth.
Replace the night within me with your light.
Straighten my crookedness.
Fill my emptiness.
Blunt the edge of my pride.
Sharpen the edge of my humility.
Light the fire of my love.
Quench the flames of my lust.
Let me see myself as You see me.
That I may see You as You have promised, and be blessed according to Your word: "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God."
I've never quite thought happiness to be a true barometer of our holiness, especially seeing all these power-of-positive-thinking types confuse it with a mere superficial satisfaction.It's foolish to think, however, that a godly happiness is a mere illusion. I do know the happiest that I've been in five years, though, and I know why I could not take hold of the object of my desire, a desire that flashed through me joyfully unexpectedly one evening like a thunderbolt, its origins unquestionable, and the fire that kindled sustained me for almost a year.It was my own ego that caused my downfall, and now, I may have lost it forever. That was the impetus for this latest bout of spiritual practice, to destroy that in my ego which withheld me. But I see now how clearly we all are a tempest of whirling motivations. How do we discern which of these are worthy, and which are vile? Which are the spark of God, and which are just falsehoods and illusions?
>>> How does one find the balance between detachment and desire?