Acedia & Me: One Final Word

          This is the fourth and final in a series of book reviews on Kathleen Norris’ new book Acedia & Me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer’s Life.  The other posts can be found here, here, and here.

           At various points within the book Norris pauses to survey the scene in which we find ourselves in modern life.  This includes the break-neck speed with which we accomplish very little -

Just look at us, with more money and less sleep than we know how to handle, except to go into debt, and take pills that get us up in the morning and others that let us rest at night.

 

          Norris tackles the self-absorbtion of the modern age, comparing it to the wisdom of much earlier followers of Christ – such as the desert fathers:

 

One great difference between these monks and today’s pop psychologists is that the monks’ process of discernment was likely to result in more self-knowledge, less self-consciousness.  In our day, this is often reversed.  People whose speech remains stuck in therapeutic jargon, for all the “work” they are doing on themselves, often remain stubbornly unreflective.

 

         The demon of acedia, Norris notes, puffs us up even as it casts us down.  We are left to resort to our last, best hope – which is the mercy of God in Jesus Christ.  This can be accessed through humility, as we accept who God has created us to be.  She doesn’t put it this way, but I would say a key part of this is accepting our “lot” in life and rejoicing that “the boundary lines have fallen in pleasant places.”

          Norris returns to the comparison of acedia and depression, admitting she has struggled with both and observing -

 

I find that depression generally has an identifiable and external cause that acedia lacks.  I can look at my life and see where the trouble is coming from.  But acedia arises out of nowhere, as it were, emerging from my inner depths without warning, and without any reason that I can determine.

 

          Norris notes she has “found that depression is amenable to treatment in ways that acedia is not.”

          It takes firm resolve and a strong faith that arises from some place beyond ourselves to do battle with the demon of acedia.  I’ll give the final word to Martin Luther, whom Norris quotes in a section called, “Despair and Possibility” -

 

You must be resolute, bid yourself defiance, and say to yourself wrathfully… ‘No matter how unwilling you are to live, you are going to live and like it!  This is what God wants… Begone, you thoughts of the devil!  To hell with dying and death!’ … Grit your teeth in the face of your thoughts, and for God’s sake be more obstinate, headstrong, and willful than the most stubborn peasant.

The Last Great Championship Game

          In truth, there have been many good, some perhaps even great NCAA Basketball Championship games since 1987.  None, however, surpass the sheer drama (particularly for an IU fan) of the game that featured “The Shot” – Keith Smart’s jumper from the corner, as the clock wound down with a stunned Syracuse team looking on.

         My personal history with the college game goes as far back as Bobby Knight’s early days at IU, as he built the team that would become arguably one of the best (if not the best ever) in the game. 

          I have a vague recollection of watching Bill Walton’s amazing 44-point performance in the 1973 Championship game against Memphis State  (possibly the single best individual performance in a Championship game).

          I was crushed watching Scott May sporting an arm cast bravely falling short of leading the IU troops to victory in their first undefeated season 1974-75, losing to UCLA in the Final Four.

          I was equally as thrilled watching the first IU Championship in the Modern Era as the 1975-76 team took it to the University of Michigan for a third time that season.

 

          1979 was a year for the almost miraculous, as I watched Larry Bird take a group of guys who were much better than me (as a high school sophomore) to the championship game only to run up against “SHOWTIME” in Magic Johnson and his Michigan State Spartans.

            Fast forward to 1981 and a feisty long-socked Isiah Thomas sliced and diced his way through the tournament, leading an IU team that wasn’t expected to do much all the way.

            Then, we come to 1987.  Knight had come close several times more in the 80s only to fall short.  The 1987 team supposedly had features atypical for a Knight squad (including recruited junior college transfers such as Dean Garrett and Keith Smart).  Like many IU teams, there were no bona fide NBA stars.  The best player was dead-on sharpshooter Steve Alford who would make his mark primarily as the man expected (but never-quite) to be Knight’s heir-apparent.

              The Syracuse squad was superior in many aspects.  Faster.  Stronger.  Bigger.  Maybe Boeheim was out-coached by the General or maybe IU just got lucky.

              All I can say is when the shot went through and when the seconds ticked off until the buzzer, I was yelling to beat the band.  I was watching the game at my dad and step-mom’s, not far from Bloomington.  As the buzzer sounded, I headed out to join the celebration in the streets.

              I’m not sure where I ended up that night.  The memory has faded or was shocked out of existence thanks to ECT.  Nonetheless, the game lives on.  And one day I’ll have another IU victory to celebrate.  One day.

 

Moving Day

          Today is our moving day.  With the help of some friends, we are saying “Goodbye” to Long Island, putting the Big Apple in our rearview mirror …

 

   

          and saying “Hello” to Upstate NY, home of farmlands and Finger Lakes…

 

          I really think this is a good move for us.  If you have the chance today, please pray that the move would go well.

 

          Addendum:  The movers have safely made it through the city and are well on their way to our new home.  Thanks for your prayers.

          Addendum #2:  Everyone arrived safely.  Praise God!

 

Acedia & Me: Depression, Or Not?

         This post marks the third in a series of book reviews on the book Acedia & Me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer’s Life by Kathleen Norris.  The first two reviews can be found here and here.

 

          The ancient Latin concept “acedia” has come to be understood by many as what we moderns would call, in psychological terms, “depression”.  The drug industry would like us to lump all our ill-at-ease feelings together so they might sell us a pill (or many pills) to fix the problem.  Norris observes -

 

Pharmaceutical companies advertise in newspapers and popular magazines with lists of symptoms– feeling down, anxious, fatigued, or discouraged– that would seem to cover most everyone at some time, as is no doubt the point.  These advertisements can inspire people who need treatment to seek it, but they also serve the purposes of commerce and feed a disturbing tendency to medicalize all human experience.

 

          Sometimes unsettledness is more than a sign of depression.  It can be a great spiritual temptation to try to do something other than what we are doing in the present.  Norris comments that discernment is needed to do battle with acedia, to know when to move and when to be still, when to act and when to stand back, when to serve others and when to seek solitude.  Describing her own experience in writing, she notes -

 

When I know that I should remain in my study, writing if I am able, and if not, being willing to be alone with God, doing nothing, I am easily tempted to leave and seek the company of other people.  But if I am honest with myself, I will admit that my inability to be alone is no reason to abandon my solitude: the danger is that I will use others as an excuse to avoid confronting matters that require my full attention.

 

          Paying full attention, being mindful and grateful for the gift of present time is one way we combat acedia.  One of the great temptations of the demon is a sort of nostalgia for better days.  The danger of this, Norris points out is -

 

As we come to prefer living in the past, we grow less able to enjoy the present or invest in the future.

Casting Anxieties on the Lord

          This morning I stayed home and listened to a message by John Piper that can be found here.  It’s based on 1 Peter 5 (primarily verses 6 & 7) and it’s called, “To Be Cast Not Carried.”

          Piper highlights the connection between humbling yourselves (verse 6) and casting your anxieties on God (verse 7).  Humbling ourselves is an anxiety-evoking action.  It requires that we empty out our egos.  Piper cites four examples of humbling ourselves:

1)  Admitting to our mistakes.

2)  Asking for help.

3)  Doing an ordinary job.

4)  Hanging out with common people.

          In each of these acts, we run the risk of losing aspects of our ego – our pride, our self-esteem, our reputation.  And yet, if we do not humble ourselves, we are no more than a “posture-er”, having inauthentic faith.

           The key to humbling ourselves is in casting our cares on the Lord.  Piper notes that the only other New Testament usage of the word translated “casting” is when the people “cast” their cloaks on the donkey as Jesus rides into Jerusalem for Palm Sunday.  God carries our burdens as a donkey carries what is laid on him.

             Finally, Piper draws the parallel being 1 Peter 5:6-7 and Philippians 4:6 which says -

 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

 

          If we are to cast our cares on the Lord, we need to do a lot of praying, both prayers of gratitude and longing for the desires of our hearts.  Only by laying out our whole selves before the One who knows us better than we know ourselves can we lay our burdens on Him.

 

Acedia & Me: Tedium

          This marks the second in a series of book reviews on the book Acedia & Me by Kathleen Norris.  To see the first installment, check out “Acedia & Me“.

          Acedia, as Kathleen Norris writes, is a Latin term that has fallen out of popular usage (almost out of usage altogether).  It has no direct equivalent in English.  Depression perhaps hits closest to home, but even that falls short.

           There are many components to acedia – how we fall into it and what happens when it strikes.  Norris describes this well as she writes -

 

      I’ve been working too long and need a break; maybe I should read a mystery novel to clear my head, I tell myself that I’m too weary to concentrate.  I tell myself that it is a matter of respecting my limitations, and of being good to myself.  If I manage to read one book, and then return to my other obligations, no harm is done.  But often, one book does not satisfy me.  My “rest” has only made me more restless, and as I finish one book, I am tempted to pick up another.  If I don’t check myself, I can slip into a state both anxious and lethargic, in which I trudge through four or five paperbacks a day, for three or four days running.  I am consuming books rather than reading them.

 

          I know too well that “anxious and lethargic” feeling that comes when I give in to temptation and consume things rather than enjoy them as gifts.  For me it’s not mystery novels.  It’s DVDs of shows like “Monk” or “Seinfeld” or “Friends”.  It’s my blog.  The effect is the same.  In an effort to relax and take my mind off stressful pursuits, I wind up becoming numb.

          Acedia can result in a dangerous “I don’t care” attitude.  Referring to the children’s book Pierre by Maurice Sendak, Norris describes the “lion of acedia”. 

 

…  I can care for so little that it becomes hard to care even whether I live or die.  I need help to learn to see again, and to reclaim my life through ordinary acts: washing my hair, as well as the dishes in the sink, and walking out of doors to enjoy the breeze on my neck.

 

          One of my great hopes in our move Upstate is that living in a farmhouse (with some land) will awaken in me a sense of concern for the earth and our place in it.  I pray that God will open to eyes to see the beautiful sunrise overlooking our pond, to notice the colors of our fruit trees as I prune them, to feel an evening breeze on our porch.  I am hoping and praying to be released from the demon of acedia.

 

Acedia & Me

          While browsing through the stacks of the local library, I ran across a new book by Kathleen Norris entitled – Acedia & Me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer’s Life.  I would have been interested just for the subtitle alone, but the concept of acedia has intrigued me for some time as well.

 

         Norris writes -

I believe that standard dictionary definitions of acedia as “apathy,” “boredom,” or “torpor” do not begin to cover it, and while we may find it convenient to regard it as a more primitive word for what we now term depression, the truth is much more complex.

 

         Acedia has a long and complicated history, but Norris recognizes that this makes it ripe with possibilities to describe what has been left undescribable at the intersection of faith and psychology. 

          Norris admits to her personal experience with what she has come to know as depression and acedia and concludes -

The boundaries between depression and acedia are notoriously fluid; at the risk of oversimplifying, I would suggest that while depression is an illness treatable by counseling and medication, acedia is a vice that is best countered by spiritual practice and the discipline of prayer.

 

          I look forward to digging deeper into the mystery of acedia through this book and possibly reflect further on how it has impacted my marriage, my ministry, my life, in upcoming posts.

The World’s Greatest In-Laws

          I have, bar none, the world’s greatest in-laws.  From day one, when I kept their daughter from going home for Christmas, through my four in-patient psych hospital stays, through five moves in ministry and now one onto disability, they have supported not just their daughter and grandchildren, but our marriage and family as well. 

           I don’t think I would have shown such patience.  In fact, I know myself well enough to say with confidence I would not have.  I fear I am bound to take sides, to unknowingly drive wedges into the marriages of my children rather than helping cement their bonds.  It takes great wisdom and faith to let go and trust that God is in control of our marriages, to let our children make decisions we may think are not the best for them and love them into new ways of relating and building relationships.

            I hope and pray that by the time my children marry I will have learned a few lessons from my in-laws and that I can be half as supportive as they have been in our marriage.

They are even helping us with our move!

The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Simply Put

         In his book, The Ominvore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals, Michael Pollan succinctly captures a not-so-hidden question that plagues us as a people -

           To one degree or another, the question of what to have for dinner assails every omnivore, and always has.  When you can eat just about anything nature has to offer, deciding what you should eat will inevitably stir anxiety, especially when some of the potential foods on offer are liable to sicken or kill you.

 

          As a people, we prize the freedom to choose, but it is precisely the abundance of our choices that can wind up holding us captive.  Pollan writes -

          The koala doesn’t worry about what to eat.  If it looks and smells and tastes like a eucalyptus leaf, it must be for dinner.  The koala’s culinary preferences are hardwired into its genes.  But for omnivores like us a vast amount of brain space and time must be devoted to figuring out which of all the many potential dishes nature lays on are safe to eat.

 

          It is reaction against this crippling anxiety of too many choices and uncertainty over possibly making the wrong choice that leads people to strange behavior when it comes to food.

          A laid off worker takes to spending a lot more for pre-processed and prepared foods so as “not to have to think about what to fix for dinner.”

          A family stocks the freezer full of nearly unrecognizable battered food for each family member to throw in the deep fryer when they are ready to eat.

          A college student drives around eating fast food instead of eating better food with fellowship in the cafeteria.

          As a nation, we have an eating dis-order and, as Pollan claims -

 

          One way to think about America’s national eating disorder is as the return, with an almost atavistic vengence, of the omnivore’s dilemma.  The cornucopia of the American supermarket has drawn us back on a bewildering food landscape where we once again have to worry that some of those tasty looking morsels might kill us.  (Perhaps not as quickly as a poisonous mushroom, but just as surely.)

 

One Omnivore’s Dilemma

          I just returned from a trip to the library where I picked up a copy of a book entitled, The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by a man named Michael Pollan.  In his intriguingly titled introduction – “Our National Eating Disorder”, Pollan poses this thought-provoking question:

          How did we ever get to a point where we need investigative journalists to tell us where our food comes from and nutritionists to determine the dinner menu?

          My own history with food and meals is rather uncomplicated and no doubt mirrors that of my generation.  I lived through the shift from days of having at least one (often more) meal at the dinner table with most (if not all) family members present to the days of going solo through a drive-thru, driving around in my Mazda pick-up until I wolfed down the Whopper or Big Mac that would keep my hunger at bay for the next several hours.

           I’m happy to say I’ve seen my way back to “simpler times”.   Today, my family eats all 3 meals together (with rare exceptions).  While we are not obsessive about it, we do use a lot of natural ingredients (lately my daughters have begun to bake all our own bread) and eat relatively healthy portions (though I could stand to let go of my pre-bedtime cereal snack).

           I say “I’m happy to say” which may seem strange from someone who suffers with such profound bouts of depression, but it does give me great joy that my family has such good and healthy eating habits.  I give my wife (and now my daughters) tremendous credit for keeping us on track when I would have easily let the family slide into the “eating dis-order” that plagues our nation (and many others).

Hit Me – A Quarter of a Million Times

          I’ve hit a significant blogging milestone.   Necessary Therapy has now exceeded 250,000 hits since its inception - not quite 2 years ago.

          Granted, many of my hits are from folks looking for images of people like Bob Dylan or the Spice Girls I have “borrowed” from other sites – something about which there is some measure of guilt that comes with the pleasure.

          Still, no matter how people are led to my site, some people continue to find it a blessing.  It was great to have this reaffirmed in a recent comment that came from a woman Candace -

          I just stumbled across your blog and you have no idea how God is using it to encourage me. I was diagnosed bipolar about 5 weeks ago after thinking I’ve suffered from only depression since my teens (I’m 35 now). It has been difficult to accept this diagnosis and I’ve been so overwhelmed with fears about the statistics and my future functioning, as you so accurately described yourself. And your post about faith and suicide was especially thought provoking for me- since I have suicidal thoughts quite frequently and was briefly hospitalized a few years ago.

          I’m sure I will visit your site on a regular basis. Thanks for your honesty!

more on Necessary Therapy

“1000 Comments and Counting”

“The Pistol Meets the Dalai Lama”

“What Am I Doing Here?”

 

 

 

Sinful Despair Revisited

          I seem to have lapse back into depression, a state of despair that hounds me night and day and saps me of nearly all my strength.  I have trouble concentrating.  I have no interest in doing anything, in fact the simplest task seems a monumental chore.

           I thought it might be helpful to re-visit something I first posted back in June of 2007, when I was going through a similar struggle.  The post elicited some interesting comments.  I would be eager to hear your response….

{from “Sinful Despair”, first posted June 12, 2007}

          I’ve been struggling to get out of bed and go about my day lately.  I have no motivation.  I can’t concentrate on anything.  Everything seems a tremendous chore.  I’m going through terrible despair and I’m not sure why.

          So I pick up a book of C.S. Lewis quotes and my eyes hit on this - 

                “Despair is a greater sin than any of the sins which provoke it.”  

          Think of that.  Despair as sin.  None of this mamby-pamby pity for someone like me going through depression.  Just the cold, bracing reality that I am a sinner and I need to call on the forgiveness of Christ.

          Then I was preparing for a Bible study and ran across these words of Matthew Henry -

 

          “Those that are melancholy and troubled in mind have thoughts arising in their hearts which reflect dishonour upon God, and create disquiet to themselves.” 

          So why do I do this to myself?  Why do I do this to God?  Sure, there’s the body chemistry answer, but I think there’s a deeper spiritual one as well.  I think I’m possessed by a spirit of dis-ease that keeps me from going about my day grateful for the good life God has given me.   

          So, I would appreciate your prayers.  Please pray that I be forgiven of despair and that I might rediscover the joy of my salvation.

more spiritual reflections on depression…

“Spurgeon on Depression”

“Thorny Grace”

“10 Reasons to Leave Your Psychiatrist”

One Blogger’s Poem (my blog, my friend)

{first posted March 31, 2007}

 

 

to emily, my spiritual muse

          After blog browsing for almost a month now, I think it’s time I post a poem.  I thought the best place to start would be a tribute to my blogging comrades, picking up the themes I’ve noticed most often on various sites and doing my best to pay homage to the distinct style of Internet poetry.

So, here goes…

my blog, my friend

you are there when I need you

need you, need you

my dog shakespeare licks my ears

and places known only to me (maybe god)

comforting places, quiet places

loving, loving

my cat cummings watches me caress the keyboard

staring as if she knows

what can not be known

in the secret world of cyberspace

friends far and wide who care

care, care

my baby is crying

time to start the day.

 

**********

more on poems and poetry…

“Divine Madness”

“From the Belly of the Whale”

“A Good Rest”

On Preparing for a Colonoscopy

I have Ginger Ale on the deck,

White Grape juice in the basement,

Beef Bouillon on the shelf.

I have The Healing Power of Psalms by the bed,

              stacked on top of The Joyful Christian 

              and magazines – “Smithsonian”, “Sports Illustrated”,

“ The Writer”.

 

They say the preparation is the hardest part.

I beg to differ.

I believe it will come

(and go)

quite readily.