Goodbye, Little Kitty

"I will not say 'Do not weep' for not all tears are an evil." -- J.R.R. Tolkien

Today I said goodbye forever to my beloved Little Kitty; my best friend and only companion for the last 12 years. Goodbye, my dear little friend, and may God have the mercy of allowing us to meet again in a better place. I love you.

"Teach your mouth to say that which you have in your heart."

-- Abba Poemen

I have spent the last week in the company of a woman who thinks that I am the best man in the world. That's not vanity or presumption: she told me so. In no uncertain terms.

I've wondered from time to time on this blog, and often in my heart, if it would be possible for me to find some kind of relationship while still being faithful to my convictions--that You are The One, that the Lord has told me to love you unconditionally, with everything in my heart and soul, while still believing and hoping that some day I might break through to You. You have, after all, rejected me repeatedly, shunned me, ignored me, and continue to this day to refuse to talk to me or even look at me, and I therefore have no obligation to you to remain completely alone. But I've always concluded that it can't be done with honesty and integrity; that it would not be fair to ask any woman to open her heart to me on those terms.

But here is a woman whom I met in the woods by chance, and who needed help, which I was able to give her. Who came back to me after a few days, and with whom I shared an amazing evening of emotional and intellectual connection and intimacy, during which I was able to help her in less material but much more substantial ways--and who was able and willing to help me in the same way. A woman whose striking physical beauty is so far exceeded by her inner beauty as to make it entirely irrelevant.

Then I let her go, again, having made perfectly, abundantly clear to her that I did not seek and was not open to any kind of romantic relationship. But she then returned to me yet again. And she told me that she wanted to love me--that she did love me--and that she did so fully knowing that I am totally committed to marrying You and no other, to waiting for you, to loving you unconditionally and eternally, to remaining obedient to what I believe I have been shown and told. She said that she wanted to be my girl until you came back to me, like Martha in The Notebook, and that when you did, I would be completely free, and she would be truly happy for us.

Still, I resisted. It was an incredibly generous offer, but I didn't want to hurt her, which I inevitably would. But I have been so very lonely for so very long. And not just lonely, but hurt; wounded; broken; shattered. Dead.

My life ended eight years ago, when I offered a girl a ride, my help, and my affection, and it ended in a psychotic witch hunt--a blitzkreig of false accusations, slander, persecution, and character assassination. I thought I might be coming alive again through Your friendship and that of the people around us, only to find that it happened again, or rather that it continued, that it followed me. And since then I have lived...no, existed...every day, every moment, in a state of unbelievable, unbearable, unending agony.

But now here was a girl...a beautiful woman...who wanted to love me. Unconditionally. Generously. Unselfishly. Who wanted to heal me. To accept me, just exactly the way I am. For whom I was not too fat, or too old, or too poor, or too unsuccessful, or too grumpy. Or too anything. Who told me that I was perfect. The best man in the world. Her knight. Her rescuer.

Here was a woman who has more reason to hate, fear, and mistrust men than any woman I have ever met. And yet, she trusted me. She saw who I really am. She put herself completely in my power, alone with me in my house in the middle of the woods, and she saw that I was gentle, kind, honorable, chivalrous, and giving. And came back for more.

And most importantly, she allowed me to be good to her, which is the thing that I most desire in this life. She opened up to me, told me things which she's never told anyone else, trusted me, not only with her physical safety, but with the deepest, darkest secrets of her heart. Things which broke my heart and made me weep for her, and with her. She has endured horrors that freeze my heart, boil my blood, and make me want to commit murder. And yet she remains open, good, kind, generous, courageous, sweet, and pure-hearted. I think she must be the bravest person I have ever met.

And so, I finally agreed to her terms--accepted her offer. But only for the few days we were going to be together here and now. I don't know if I did it because she needed me or because I needed her. Most likely both.

I had never had someone just love me, for me, because I am me. I had never had someone admire me, because she truly saw me. Yes, other women had liked, even loved me...but not because they really Saw me. Or at least, not that they were ever able to express to me. I had never had the little things that should be part of a relationship, like intimacy and affection, because when I was 'married', it was with a woman who was incapable of either.

My life, for a very long time now, has been characterized primarily by the word endurance. Most of what I've done has been trying to find ways to do that, and to distract myself from the never-ending pain of it. But the last seven days have been like a little heaven. My favorite movies, ones I've watched over and over, I usually watch with tears and aching sorrow; but now I've been able to share with someone, with joy and happiness. I've sung. I've laughed. I've been funny again. I've been fun again. I've danced. About the third day she was here, we were sitting at dinner, and she looked at me and said, "You're smiling!" I said, "Have I not smiled before?" And she said, "Not with your eyes. Your eyes have been so sad."

And she healed me. She gave me what I've needed and wanted for as long as I can remember: one person; just one person...one woman who would look at me, see me, know me, and say, "You are good."

I had hoped that You would be the one to give me this. I had hoped that if I loved you truly enough, faithfully enough, long enough, unselfishly enough, unconditionally enough, that eventually you would see what she has seen in a matter of days, and that all would come out right in the end. But you never have.

I still believe that the Lord has told me what he has told me about you. I still believe you are the one. I still believe that I am supposed to wait for you. But this girl has asked if she can love me, if I can love her, in a different way, while I wait for you. I have said no, that I can't do that to her; that I don't think it would be right; that I don't know if I can do that and still be faithful and obedient; that the longer we spend together, the harder the parting would be in the end. But I am seriously considering it. My protectiveness toward women and consideration for their feelings tell me not to; but I also have to respect her free will and volition. If she freely chooses to enter into a relationship under those conditions, with full knowledge of my intentions, then perhaps I should allow her to so choose.

I'm even open to the possibility that God could show me that his intention was not for me to end up with you in the end, but that this journey was the means to a different destination than I thought. I don't think so. It has been your face too many times in my dreams and visions, and you are still too deeply fixed in my heart for me to believe that it is not you. He hasn't told me anything to the contrary, and I'm not trying to force that interpretation on it, but I am opening my heart, as I have so many times before, to being shown that I was mistaken. This was my promise to her when we parted: that if she would be open to the possibility that it is not God's will that we end up together, that I will be open to the possibility that it is. 

Thank You, Carolina

"Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man’s heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned."

-- J.R.R. Tolkien

My guest made me a delightful treat: authentic homemade Italian food--melanzala parmigiana. And keto-friendly; no pasta. So delicious. Luckily, she made enough that we can have it again tomorrow evening. 

I said goodbye to Sharleen last week after a brief visit, as she was planning on spending the rest of her time here in Florida. But she felt progressively unsafe--men acting inappropriately and ungentlemanly--as she traveled south through Atlanta and down to Miami, and after a couple of days decided that she wanted to come back to me. The fact that I am the one she thought of, that this is where she feels like she can go to feel safe, makes me feel very, very good about myself. It means that she sees who I really am. Also, I am happy to get to spend a few more days with her before she goes home to Italy. I wasn't expecting any more guests before I move out (my house is already half-empty), but this is a nice way to end my time here.

Peace

With three things I am delighted,

for they are pleasing to the Lord and to men:

Unity among brethren, friendship among neighbors,

and a wife and a husband living together in harmony.

-- Wisdom of Sirach 25:1

Summer Song

"Murmuring 'twixt a murmer and moan,
Many a tune in a single tone--
For every ear with a secret true--
The sea-shell wants to whisper to you."

"Yes--I hear it--far and faint,
Like thin-drawn prayer of drowsy saint;
Like the muffled sounds of a summer rain;
Like the rustle of dreams to a weary brain."

"By smiling lip and fixed eye,
You are hearing a song within the sigh:
The murmurer has curious ways--
Tell me, darling, the words it says."

"I hear a wind on a boatless main
Sigh like the last of a vanishing pain;
On the dreaming waters dreams the moon
But I hear no words in the doubtful tune."

"If it tell thee not that I love thee well,
'Tis a senseless, wrinkled, ill-curved shell:
If it be not of love, why sigh or sing?
'Tis a common, mechanical, stupid thing."

"It whispers, it whispers, with prophet voice,
Of a peace that comes, of a granted choice;
It speaks not a word of your love to me,
But it tells me I love you eternally."

-- George MacDonald, Violin Songs and Other Poems

Passion, Reason, and Will

"From the moral point of view, the passions have been widely dis-
cussed. The partisans of the morality of pleasure have said that all
passions are good, as the legitimate expansion of our nature. This
justification of the passions is found among both ancient and mod-
ern writers.

The Stoics, on the contrary, condemned the passions, saying that
they are a movement which, opposed to right reason, troubles the
soul. According to them, the wise man must suppress the passions
and reach impassibility.

Aristotle, followed by St. Thomas, states more profoundly that
the passions or emotions, considered as such, are morally neither
good nor bad, but become morally good if they are aroused or
regulated by right reason and the will which utilizes them as powers,
or they become morally bad if they are not conformable to right
reason. Their morality depends on the intention of the will, which
is always either good or bad, according as it bears or does not bear
on a worthy end. Thus, anger may be holy or, on the contrary,
unreasonable. Christ willed to show holy indignation when driv-
ing the vendors from the Temple and overturning their tables.
Likewise, in Gethsemane Christ, who was about to expiate all our
sins, willed to be sorrowful even unto death to make us understand
the sorrow we should have for our own sins.

Therefore, if the passions or emotions are regulated, moderated
by right reason, they are morally good; they are forces to be used
in the service of virtue: for example, courage, which is a virtue,
makes use of hope and audacity while moderating them. Likewise
modesty, which is a laudable emotion, helps the virtue of chastity,
and that other emotion, known as sensible pity toward the unfortu-
nate, renders easy for us the exercise of the virtue of mercy. The act
of virtue, St. Thomas says, is even more meritorious when it makes
good use of the passions in view of a virtuous end.

It is clear, in fact, that God has given us our sensible appetites,
as He has given us our exterior senses and imagination, as He has
given us our two arms, that we may use them in view of a moral
good. Thus utilized, the passions when well regulated are powers.

And whereas the so-called antecedent passion, which precedes judg-
ment, clouds the reason, as happens in the fanatic or the sectarian,
the so-called consequent passion, which follows the judgment of
right reason illumined by faith, increases merit and shows the power
of good will for a great cause. With this meaning, Pascal could say:
"Nothing great is accomplished without passion," without this flame
of sensibility, which is like the radiation of zeal or the ardor of love
of God and of neighbor. This zeal consumed the hearts of the saints
and showed itself in their courage and endurance." 

-- Fr. Reginald Garrigou-LaGrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life 

There is a false doctrine which has been circulating in Christianity since its earliest centuries, that human passions are inherently evil and sinful. It appears in various forms, from the excessive asceticism common among the ancient desert fathers and medieval flagellants, to the dour rationalism of the Calvinists and Puritans, to the modern pseudo-psychological versions of it which I've addressed previously, such as the one stemming from the popularity of The Road Less Traveled among Evangelicals. It leads, and has led, when followed to its logical conclusion, to the heresy of dualism: that flesh and all physical existence is itself inherently evil, and that the only good is the intangible things of the spirit.

We moderns usually use the word 'emotions' instead of 'passions', reserving 'passion' for particularly strong emotion. Sometimes Christians of later times thus come to believe that mild emotion is okay, but strong passion is not. But this is not the proper measure of whether an emotion or passion is good or not. How profound and powerful was Jesus's emotion when he cried out "Eli, eli, lama sabach thani"? Or when he agonized in prayer in the garden? How overwhelming was Mary's sorrow as she watched her Son beaten, tortured, mocked, rejected, and murdered?

The right way of judging whether an emotion is good or evil is that which Father Garrigou-LaGrange enumerates above: is it an unbridled, unreasonable, disordered passion stemming from the fallen human soul, steeped in self-will, rebellion, and disobedience to God? Or as he calls it, an antecedent passion? Or is it a consequent one, that is, does it have its origin in a choice of the will which was made in obedience to God's revealed will, His voice, His leading, in conformity to right reason and holy principles? It's not a difference of quantity, but of quality.

This second one is the nature of my passion for You, and is the reason why it is exactly not any of the things which some, not understanding its origin or nature, have characterized it as being. My love for you was born precisely out of obedience to God, and I have, from beginning to end, submitted and regulated it to His will and His truth. It is the intention which drives the emotion which determines whether it is good or bad, and my intention is nothing more, less, or other than to obey Him. It is precisely for this reason that it is so strong, so profound, and not the other way around.

Loving you is my "great cause" which I require the "radiation of zeal or the ardor of love" to accomplish. It is from God, of God, and in God, and only for this reason have I allowed it to exist and continue in my life.

I just finished the Space Trilogy again, and I can't help thinking of my love for you also in light of Lewis's deeply insightful and profoundly beautiful elucidation of the nature and character of true, Godly, holy marital love in That Hideous Strength. His use of the true Venus or Perelandra, and the effects her presence has on both man and beast, versus her lesser shadow-self, the fallen exarch version of her which serves the dark archon of our own planet, perfectly illustrates the same principal which Father Garrigou-LaGrange expounds above. And MacPhee, in his obstinate and silly Rationalism, is the perfect representation of that error which rejects both as being the same thing. Jane and Mark, in their interior struggles with their 'modern' ideas about love and marriage, illustrate this same principle in a subtler way. Fear of right and holy love is just as much a sin as enslavement to excessive, disordered human love, because it, too, has its origin and intention in the fallen human will.

The fragrance of an expensive perfume,
even when it is kept in its jar,
will permeate every room in a house,
delighting not only the owners
but even the neighbors as well,
so it is with a saintly soul, loved by God,
for its fragrance will emanate
through all the senses of its body,
making known to those who can discern
the holiness that lies hidden within.

-- Theodoros the Ascetic

Un Nuova Amica

I met Sharleen several days ago, by divine appointment, I think, on the Appalachian Trail, as she was hiking through Shenandoah. We ended up being able to spend some significant time together, talking about books, poems, art, music, beauty, truth, depression, tragedy, God, and love.

Don't get the wrong idea about this: it isn't that. It just so happened that we met and were able to connect, and especially that she was in a place that she could use someone to be kind and honorable toward her, which is exactly the thing that I like best to do. Sharleen is a lovely, intelligent, sensitive, warm, and good-hearted person, who deserves much better than life seems to have given her so far. One of the things I hate most about this current world order is how it treats lovely young women. Being a beautiful woman in this world is like being a steak in the zoo, and there's nothing I like better than when I have the opportunity to "do good to someone who is not accustomed to have it done to them" as Tolstoy put it, particularly in this way.

And I also have to admit that it is quite wonderful to feel love, trust, respect, admiration, and affection in return, rather than the things that I've been feeling. I, also, was very much in need of someone to be kind to me. She compared me to Jean Valjean, which is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Valjean is exactly the kind of man I aspire to be.

It just so happens as well that she is planning on hiking the Camino de Santiago next year. So we're going to try and meet up for that, and she's also invited me to come and visit her in Italy, which I'm quite looking forward to. 

Again, don't get the wrong impression here. I have come to love my new friend, but as a little sister. You are the only woman in the world in whom I have any romantic interest whatsoever, and we spent a substantial amount of our time together talking about you, and my love for you. As I always do when I really get to talking with someone, especially women. I actually think that much if not most of why they like me is the way I talk about you. 

The thing is that through you I love all other women more. If I am able to give kindness, gentleness, honor, respect, or any other good thing to another girl, it is in a way like I am giving it to you. I would be good to them anyway, for their own sake and because that's my nature, but doing it as an expression of my love for you adds another, higher and deeper, level of meaning. Also, loving you has vastly broadened and deepened my understanding, appreciation, and sympathy for women and femininity, and thus makes me better able to be good to them. It's another way to love you when I can't love you directly.

But more importantly, it is the love of Christ that is in all of this. He brought us together, so that each could give the other a gift from Himself.

More about Sharleen:
https://sharleenm.wixsite.com/sharleenmaglione/portfolio
https://shenandoahglory.home.blog/

“A divine 'punishment’ is also a divine 'gift’, if accepted, since its object is ultimate blessing, and the supreme inventiveness of the Creator will make 'punishments’ (that is changes of design) produce a good not otherwise to be attained” -- J.R.R. Tolkien

I forgot to include, in describing my morning routine, that before I sit down for my time with the Lord, I stand and recite this Psalm:

PRAISE the LORD, ye servants; 

O praise the Name of the LORD.

Blessed be the Name of the LORD 

from this time forth for evermore.

The LORD'S Name is praised 

from the rising up of the sun 

unto the going down of the same.

The LORD is high above all nations, 

and his glory above the heavens.

Who is like unto the LORD our God, 

that hath his dwelling so high, 

and yet humbleth himself to behold 

the things that are in heaven and earth!

He taketh up the simple out of the dust, 

and lifteth the poor out of the mire;

That he may set him with the princes, 

even with the princes of his people.

He maketh the barren woman to keep house, 

and to be a joyful mother of children.

That last stanza, I offer up as a prayer.

"If you pray truly,

you will discover great confidence, 

and angels will come to you 

as they once came to Daniel, 

and they will enlighten you 

about the inner meaning
of created existences."  

-- Evagrios of Pontus

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes,
with one joint of your neck.
How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride!
How much better is your love than wine,
and the fragrance of your oils than spices!
Your lips drip nectar, my bride;
honey and milk are under your tongue;
the fragrance of your garments
is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

An enclosed garden is my sister, my bride,
a hidden spring, a fountain sealed.
Your limbs are a paradise of pomegranates
with all choicest fruits, henna and nard,
spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes,
with all choice spices—
a garden spring, a well of living water,
flowing streams from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind,
and come, O south wind!
Blow upon my garden,
and let its spices flow.

-- Song of Solomon

He hath made every thing beautiful in his time

-- Ecclesiastes 3:11

The first thing I do every morning, after attending to necessaries and saying my prayers, is to have coffee with the Lord. I read from scripture and other meditative works, then sit quietly and try to hear His voice, as I look out my windows at His glorious creation.

This morning, as frequently happens, I was imagining how beautiful it would be if this were a morning routine we shared. I imagined that I would be up first, spend some time alone with Him, then you would join me (and make a comment about what excellent coffee I make), and we could seek His face and voice together, discuss what was in our spirits, talk about any dreams we'd had last night, listen to what He was saying to us for today, and just sit in His presence for a while before (forgive me) the kids woke up.

One of my favorite dreams of you is the one in which you and I were sitting in your room, and you were telling me your dreams and the things that were in your heart. Nothing else: just that. The intimacy and trust were so fulfilling to me, that I could have wished to stay there forever.

I just want to remind you this morning that you are beautiful, lovely, brilliant, and perfect. And that someone loves you, for no other reason but that you are you.