Back at HCM

It's 10:20 and the everybody is in bed at the monastery. By most standards the monks at Holy Cross are early to bed and early to rise. But it's also true, in my experience, that people sleep better here than other places. Once you get established in the rhythm of Offices you want to go to bed at 10 p.m. The quiet and the general balance of life also conspire to make bedtimes earlier.

Alas, not so for me. These days I have trouble getting to bed before 2 a.m. It's a problem I've lived with for a long time. For some reason, my mind/body/soul just has a hard time sleeping at night. The more stressed I am, the more this problem manifests. The only times when I've really been able to consistently go to bed early have been when I'm here.

(Incidentally, the writing of this blog just got interrupted by a monk who wanted to use this computer--so my generalization about the monks going to bed earlier is shot. That's the problem with generalizations--they are always being disrupted by evidence.)

Ok, I'm back. In the interim I did something I always do when I come here--check in with my favorite spots. I almost always visit the Founder's crypt first to say a prayer for the Order and light a candle. Then there's the corner in the Pilgrim Hall I like to read in, the Lesser Cloister, and of course the monastery church itself. I discerned my call to the priesthood there. I said my first Mass there. I got married there (all on the same spot on the rug, even) so of course I have a strong connection to that place. This evening I simply lay down on the rug and stared up at the ceiling. The place feels slightly different this time, as it does every time. It's not elaborate and ornate--but something of the prayers said five times a day sinks into it and makes it feel different. A lot of people have connections to one holy place or another--but this is mine. I didn't choose it--it chose me.

This evening--affectionate thoughts about COTM. I'm thinking and praying particularly for a few individuals on my mind. Funny how when you're the Pastor suddenly you really do feel connected to people you didn't even know six months ago. I worry for them. I fuss in my mind for them. But I don't want to interfere or seem overbearing. Any gesture becomes magnified by the role into something grand, so I have to be very careful and deliberate. I'm still learning about how to express myself in this role. Being an "Associate Priest," by the way, was terrible preparation. Being the Rector and being an Associate are two completely different animals.

Today I'm just Tay, AHC. That's spiritual practice enough to keep me busy for a lifetime. At one point today I was staring at the Hudson River and listening to bagpipes thinking, "I could be here for fifty years and still be overwhelmed by what the River has to teach me." Yes, bagpipes. Good bagpipes echoing through the valley. And the River. The eternal ebb and flow. "And always we begin again."

One of the neat/weird things that happens here is that I can find myself staring at a spot on a wall or a strange shadow cast by the big oak in the courtyard for minutes at a time. When I realize that I'm doing it I don't feel self-conscious or rushed in the least. There is an rare accommodation to internal process made here. it's part of the DNA of the monastic movement, I think, that people can spend their best energies on spiritual development without apology.

Anyway, now I do feel like lying in bed for a while. Cheers all.

-t