"Stubborn Knees; Steely Hearts"

Friday, March 7, 2014

Wow, this reflection book is really aiming right at my weak points.

Today, the reflection (if you're local, available at St. Anne's Catholic Church) used Shakespeare against me.  Yes, my man Will Shaxpar.  Additionally annoying -- I didn't recognize the quote, although since it says it's from Hamlet my instinct is to take any "wisdom" inherent in it with a grain of salt.  Seriously, read the play.  You'll never quote "To thine own self be true" or "the lady doth protest too much" again if you mean it in all sincerity.

But read one way, my entry last night was an example of stubbornness.  Refusing to bow and bend my knees.  Not willing to forfeit my own judgment and listen.

And something in me still rebels.  Unthinking obedience is worth nothing, I think to myself.  Making up excuses not to bow.

And here's the real head scratcher to meditate upon: "What is your understanding of aestheticism?  Has it more to do with compassion than a rigorous process of self-discipline?"

Usually questions like this have an obvious answer that you are supposed to ask yourself, "Is this really true of me?  I know the right answer, but am I living it?  Can I come up with examples of how I have or how I will?"

This...I don't know?  How are those two ideas set up as a dichotomy?  I can't imagine a part of my spirituality that should be divorced from either idea.  Compassion leads to self-discipline because you are thinking of others.  I have rigorously self-disciplined myself to see others more and become more compassionate to fledgling success.

In fact, a great deal of my morality is based on the idea that you must know yourself and your weak points so that you can counter them and control for them.  I am a writer, and I spend much of my time in my own world.  It is my chief flaw as a teacher, and this job has been very useful in helping me combat it.

A lot of my self-discipline is in reminding myself to see others and have compassion -- not just react as if we are all variables in a world trying to be fair or the things surrounding me are dreams no more or less real than all of things happening between my ears.  Which is a terrible, terrible way to be, and I could very easily be a monster without realizing it.  I've been accused by two very notable people of exactly that, actually.

So I use self-discipline to counter for not getting to the first step of compassion.  Once I see the problem, I am willing to help.

Oh, so maybe that's part of the obedience.

I just had a thought that didn't so much help with the meditation's question but did show me where obedience is important: in our blind spots.  To correct for our blind spots.  Rules against sex before marriage to help us correct for spiraling hormones that have the potential to break our hearts and wreck our lives.  Rules and reminders about charity so I don't forget that I should contribute to one somewhere if I don't want to give to the parish.  Correcting for my natural cheapness.  What feels like countless admonitions from every quarter that I must remember that the world is outside my head, because that is where I fail at compassion.

Obedience is not for where we are strong and sure and able to use the tools and our own hands to figure out the situation.  Obedience is to correct our weak places.  It is to force us to look at the things we don't want to acknowledge.  It is for the blind spots and the weak places and the easy sins we prefer to ignore.

Obedience is our safety net -- not our get out of jail free card, but our course correct.