[The following post was composed by Cathy Self, Sr. V.P. of the Trust]

There are [also] many things that lie hidden in my conscience which
are known and manifest to God, even though they may be unknown and
obscure to me. John Cassian – (340-430 C.E.)
A perspective on why, as caregivers, some of us may be
limited in our ability to live Love is the idea of acedia – sickness of
the soul. Cassian, a desert teacher from the monastic tradition, says “it is not the mind or body, but the soul that is weary of
doing good, of doing anything.” According to this writer, acedia is
like depression but not as dark. Life begins to center on the belief
that fruit cannot be borne, so why make the effort or even try…
John Cassian called those who felt the weight of acedia to
rededicate themselves to work in every sense. “Work with your hands and
be present to the work. Return to the spiritual practices. Create a
rhythm for work and quiet reflection. It is not enough to do the right
thing, even if we are engaged in charitable works. A genuine seeker
must do the right things for the right reasons.”
Similar to St. John’s "dark night of the soul," acedia offers the
opportunity to look into motivations. Do we do what we do for the
right reasons? Do we work for success or for fruitfulness? Henri Nouwen has
written of the difference, suggesting success is the result of
strength, control, and respectability. The successful person, suggests
Nouwen, brings energy to creativity, but then must control its
development, and make it available to others. Success is rewarding and
often brings fame.
Love calls us instead, I believe, to fruitfulness which comes out of
vulnerability. Nouwen describes the fruit of a child conceived in
vulnerability, community as the fruit born through shared brokenness,
and intimacy that is emerges from touching one another’s wounds.What may be stopping us is soul fatigue.
The words and
vulnerabilities shared in this forum, among caregivers seeking to live
Love everyday, are a balm for soul fatigue, and offer to me the
opportunity to engage in the rhythm of both work and quiet reflection.
And for that my soul is grateful.
Leave a reply to Edwin Loftin Cancel reply