Monday, February 22, 2010

One Day at a Time


So, the old phrase, "I'm taking it one day at a time," is commonly used by recovering addicts. Partly, this has to be done out of necessity due to the overwhelming amount of work needed to change one's life after hitting rock bottom. Imagine, a woman who's fallen into drug use, become homeless, lost her job, lost her friends, doesn't have a license, has bad credit (etc.) who decides to get sober and turn her life around. She has to "take it one day at a time" to simply stay sane and not fall into a pit of hopelessness at the seemingly enormous load of obstacles in her path to success.

The other reason to "take it one day at a time," is to avoid the ensnarement of pride. "Oh, think how awesome it will feel in 40 days if I pray the rosary every day!" That thought spells immediate set up for failure and disappointment. Not that I think it's impossible for me to do that everyday but I know I won't. If there's one thing I know about myself, is that (despite my predilection towards addiction), I have a hard time mustering up the discipline to do anything once a day every day (yes, true to British form, I have horrible teeth). So, I tell myself to be thankful for the presence of enthusiasm to do something good when it strikes. When I want to exercise, I'm happy that that particular desire arises at that moment (and I go and do it). Similarly, with the desire to pray or read the bible. As good as it would feel to do either of these things everyday, I know that I'm a long way off from that. It takes a tremendous amount of spiritual discipline to do that, and right now I'm just trying to be patient and thankful for the point of the journey that I am at.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

On Lent

Lent is my favorite spiritual time of year. Lent isn't a "holiday" as there are no festivities or frolicking, and because of its time-span of 40 days it can't really be a season either. There is also a distinct lack of shopping sales during the Lenten period, too, so it is certainly not the most popular time for folks. I rather like this underdog that is neither a season nor a holiday.

Having struggled with addiction, quitting things comes naturally and all of the guilt and redemption that comes with it makes sense. Lent is a time to reflect upon the sinning part of our human nature, that is, the part that strays from God through selfish acts, indulgences, and generally just behaving badly. Many of the activities associated with addiction revolve around a cycle of indulgence/pleasure and regret/remorse.

That being said, Lent is more than giving up ice-cream for 40 days. Last year, I quit drinking soft drinks (no mere feat!). This year, I'm thinking about quitting soft drinks and coffee (yikes!). However, while I have quit these two things separately for 40 days and don't imagine that it will be too painful (and, honestly, these are things I will need to quit anyway at some point before my esophagus disintegrates in my sleep)...Jesus died for me, and all I can do is quit delicious caffeinated beverages? It seems that my action is quite tiny.

Speaking of the tiny, I got to reading about sacrifice beads (if I could insert a link in here, I would). Sacrifice beads were employed by St. Therese as a way of keeping track of her good and bad deeds and thoughts throughout the day. She would see every bead pushed towards the "good side" as a sign of a little gift she'd given to God, through the act of a good behavior or a kind deed to someone. You can purchase really cute ones that look a little bit like those chinese bead bracelets that were all the rage when I was 16. I considered making one for myself before I realized that I would bankrupt myself, I would have all my ten beads immediately on the bad side upon stepping into work (I like to complain a lot at work and think bad, judgmental thoughts about my customers). Still, it's a very nice idea...and is a nice illustration of the mighty "littleness" of St. Therese.

So, I will boldly abstain from coffee and soda, and hope that my tiny contribution makes some sort of a spiritual difference.