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Acedia and Me: a reflection


I am neither a writer (I try though), a monk (sometimes I wish I was), nor a married man (sometimes I wish I was more than I wish I was a monk), but Kathleen Norris's Acedia and Me has been a much needed aid in a time of certain need. I finished it yesterday.

Her work is a memoir of sorts. There is no real consistent flow of argument. It is not academic, though it deals seriously with the issues and takes advice from academics. It is not a self-help, though it certainly offers good wisdom. It is simply a reflection of life interpreted through her coming to understand the reality of what is now traditionally known as sloth, one of the seven deadly sins.

She is just a person talking herself through the drudgery that is acedia. A brilliant conversation, one which you will do well to join if you see yourself over-shadowed by a negligence toward love of self, others, life, and God. This memoir of life as a writer who battled long and hard bouts of acedia (def: carelessness, boredom, listless), and continues to, is such a timely piece; I might go so far as to say that her work is providential, with respect to my life. Also called the Noon Day Demon, a phrase coined by a really old monk, acedia is an aching of the soul, an aching that causes one to fall into oneself and turn cold, careless, loveless, bored.

I happened to come across a review of the book in Christianity Today's most recent publication of Books and Culture(September/October 2008). The review did not sing lofty praises, but the review was enough to spark a immediate curiosity, a curiosity for which I am most grateful (I bought the book minutes after reading the review).

Essentially, I took this away from the book. Life is not lived in the past or the future. Life is a present, it is a now, it is a here. Each day requires renewed grace, mercy, and love, but acedia is a power that comes and steals the present, the now, the here, and the grace, love, and mercy necessary to live each day to its potential. Acedia does this by stealing a person's love for himself, for her neighbor, for his life, for her God. Acedia is an enslaver of a person's soul robbing us of our abilities to love. It causes carelessness for ourselves, others, life, and God. It might as well be defined simply as a lack of love. This loves grows dimmer and colder until we are finally at a place where we give up and call it quits on all that is meaningful. When our life is perceived without meaning, without satisfaction, with love, we fall into despair, coldness, listlessness, anxiety, boredom, until finally we become so calloused and cold that we either simply live life in a state of constant "inward self-turning" or until we give up and die inside. Love of life is no longer, love of self is impossible, love of others is dried up, love for God is a fairy tale.

The "noon day demon" does not allow us to find joy in the wonder that is life, in the beauty that is love, in the promise that is hope, in the grace that is sufficient. At one point Kathleen said that it is an "inability to live with oneself and an feeling of alienation from God." That is not a precise quote, but it is essentially what she said and what has stuck with me.

I have felt over that past few months a certain despair, an oppressiveness that is what Kathleen names in her book, acedia. I am eternally grateful for her hard work for in it she gave me eyes to see past my present state of mind and heart, to see past myself, to see past my coldness and listlessness and see into the gracious present that is life lived in love. Each day we grow weary. Weary at the repetitious nature of it all. Eat, Work, Recreation, Sleep... over, and over, and over again. To what purpose? It is hard to see past the sanctity of the repetitious nature of life, but every day we wash and every day as we wash we would do well to remind ourselves of a constant need of cleansing our souls from that tainting of a world full of taintedness. We wash ourselves of selfishness, of anger, of arrogance. Every day we organize and put in order what seems to be most minuscule of chore (making your bed) which should only serve to remind us that we must order and organize the state of souls on a daily basis so that we may love our neighbor, and our God with the dignity that is humanity and divinity.

As I said before, this book is no self-help. There is no quick-fix, there is only naming the demon and countering its frozen grip with a heart bent to love, to care, to give, to sacrifice, to forgive, to mark each one with the dignity given by God's life-giving hand. For some whose personalities and temperaments are prone to acedia, this book is needful, maybe even life-saving. To others who do not struggle with this particular vice, it is a reminder that life is present and needs to be lived in love.

For this book, I sing highest of praise. Thank you, Kathleen. Your life is breathing life into others. Thank you for such honesty and vulnerability.

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