But this death to self--one greater than any prior--despite its moments of resentment, confusion and anger, for the main has been filled with great peace if not gentle passing. With the one good arm thrown into the air, the heart can say in the frustrating moments to God: You alone know what it all is. You alone can make it so that what seems unthinkable that has happened, could all change.
Only one arm thrown up in the air? The other is still mending from shoulder surgery. But it is mending, mercifully and gratefully yet very, very slowly. The surgeon says to be more cognizant of pain level and stop using it when the pain increases; do not let the pain get out of control. There are some things we ought to notice.
Dreams continue. One was nightmarish and had to do with the question of if one is ridding and being rid of desire to be noticed, would one write to be read? Is anonymity in the authorship enough? One would think not, since assuming there are readers of what one writes, there is a sense or degree of being noticed, at least anticipated. Another dream was instructive in remaining away from a place of notice. Even at night, my heart counsels me (Ps. 16).
The Carthusians publish with the simple A Carthusian. But the writer knows his writings are likely read and read by many. Does this prove the writer has a desire to be noticed? Only God and the writer would know; and it is most likely that only God would truly know--that Seeker and Knower of hearts.
For a couple hours, a week ago, thoughts turned to how it would be if those who suggested the desire to be noticed would actually stop their own desire to be noticed. Well, what indeed would that be, and could they even see to do it? But of course, it is not their crucifixion, is it? No, it is mine. It is my call to uproot and expose any lurking taproot and ancillary roots desiring to be noticed. Not everyone has the full opportunity to do this, to have already had much pulled up and tossed away.
The spot on the handicap pew is already replaced, no doubt, by some person either greatly overweight--unable to kneel or stand at "appropriate" times--or handicapped by some other means.
His Real Presence took me to Mass the other night in the quiet darkness of anonymity in some other realm more real than this reality. There I received His Real Presence in the Sacrament of Eucharist and yet the ecstasy within the ecstasy of the real dream dimension. God bless His Real Presence in all souls! Go gently into this dark night. His Real Presence in the present moment silently beckons.