Past updates
Today's title is something I saw on a bumper sticker while I was out. It struck me as a very wise and positive sentiment.
It was chillier today than I had expected, but I actually went out twice today: once to get lunch from Subway, and later on for what Tumblr culture calls "a stupid little walk for my stupid mental health". I had some sunshine on my lunchtime errand, but it was pretty well clouded over later on. Still, getting out of the apartment on the weekends is on an ongoing goal. I have set my intention to go to church tomorrow.
It's easy for me to be enthusiastic about church in November and December. I've loved Advent ever since I was a kid and my mother sent to me a little Episcopal church named after the season. Then there is Christmas, which in the absence of a big gift-giving network is mostly about the music for me. But it's easy to slack off during Epiphany, when getting to church becomes one more mandatory expedition into cold weather, and one where I give money instead of getting it. So my weekends have not been including that Sunday morning excursion.
I'm having a new experience, however: a weird yearning for Lent. I don't think I've been this willing to observe it since I was a kid. At the Church of the Advent, we had Stations of the Cross and Benedictions on Wednesday nights in Lent, with the choir vested and in procession. (But no dinner, as most churches have nowadays.) Then on Saturdays, there was a shorter service of just Stations without music, offered mainly, I think, for the altar guild ladies who were there cleaning and prepping for Sunday. But a number of kids--me, and Miss Jessie's grandkids and Miss Marge's--would come to church and join them for Stations. For fun. And chat with each other, and help the altar guild if we were allowed. That's why I know lighter fluid will take off paraffin wax.
In my favorite novel In This House of Brede, Dame Philippa tells the novices that Lent is "quite cheerful, really. It's like spring cleaning." They are a bit dubious about this idea, but I'm finally beginning to understand it. Lent is not a strange imposition on the energies of spring; it's an outgrowth of the natural impulse to clean, to purify, to drive out what's left of the winter and make way for what the next season will bring. Years ago I read, in a Catholic publication whose details I can't recall, that even the food restrictions of Lent are a consequence of pre-industrial agriculture. People are fasting because the winter stores are nearly empty; the big feasts of Carnival finish up the most perishable items; the chickens, living free range by natural light, haven't been laying through the winter and may not begin to do so till near the equinox.
I can't say I've been doing a lot of fasting--although I've been doing much better at eating my vegetables--but I find myself returning to old habits of prayer. And with those habits, a little more inspiration and energy seem to be flowing into my life. I've recently written two new fanfics centered on my current obsession, Irish singer-songwriter Hozier, and have been experimenting with some poetry. My chief spiritual practice is, as it has been for several years now, not beating up on myself for being imperfect. And I think that's actually pretty appropriate for Lent.
Wishing you purification from whatever is hindering you right now, until next week.
Rembrandt's wife is Merri-Todd Webster