The Jesuit Guide To (Almost) Everything - James Martin [164]
While these gadgets are terrific for keeping us in touch with our work and our families and friends, they pare away the few remaining moments of solitary time we have left—for reflection, silence, and inner quiet. Where is the time for “recollection,” as spiritual writers say?
So the second challenge: How can the working person balance the need to be “connected” with the need for solitude, a requirement of a healthy spiritual life?
Sometimes it seems as if we can no longer stand to be alone or “out of touch.” But without some inner silence, it becomes harder to listen to those desires that we spoke of. It is difficult to listen to the “still small” sound, as the First Book of Kings (9:12) describes God’s voice. If your eyes are glued to your BlackBerry and your ears stopped up by your iPod, it’s hard to hear what might be going on inside you. Cutting back on these gadgets and not answering every single e-mail and phone call right away may lead to a measure of calm.
“Deep calls to deep,” says Psalm 42 (v. 7). But what if you can’t hear the deep?
Solitude and silence also enable us to connect on a deeper level with others, for we are put in touch with the deepest part of ourselves—God. And in coming to know God, we are better able to find God in others and are freed of our loneliness. So sometimes you have to disconnect to connect.
Likewise, if you’re completely absorbed in the electronic world, obsessively checking e-mail and constantly returning phone calls, it becomes impossible to experience the quirky surprises in the world around us. The examen allows us to not only grow more aware of God in the past, but also, as we practice this discipline, in the present. But if you’re always connecting with friends, you might miss out.
The other day I was walking through a park in New York City. Racing across Union Square to an appointment, I stumbled on a pair of grungy young men; one was playing an accordion, the other a violin. Their music was a sprightly, lively, intricate, intoxicating type of Eastern European folk music. Mesmerized, I stopped to listen to the furious melodies and rising and falling rhythms. A little crowd gathered around, and I noticed that we were in the middle of the weekly open-air farmers’ market, with vendors carefully laying out fresh fruits, vegetables, and flowering plants for all to see.
As I listened to these two skinny guys, one with long dreadlocks, the other with a scraggly beard, I smelled something unusual—fresh peaches—from behind me. What a glorious moment: the music, the sunshine, the crowd, the shoppers at the market, and the smell of ripe peaches.
Just then someone cut through the rest of the crowd: a woman punching her BlackBerry and listening to her iPod. She knifed through us and rushed away. She had missed the entire experience, since she was entirely absorbed in her own world.
Ignatius on “Overloading”
In 1547 a group of young Jesuits at a school in Coimbra, Portugal, were trying to outdo one another in over-the-top religious practices. Ignatius cautions against doing too much, by use of some homey metaphors: “Let your service be a reasonable service,” he calmly counsels the Jesuits.
First . . . God is not really served in the long run, as the horse worn out in the first days does not as a rule finish the journey. . . . Second, gains that are made with this excessive eagerness are not usually kept. . . . Third, there is the danger of being careless about overloading the vessel. There is danger, of course, in sailing it empty, as it can then be tossed about. . . . But there is also danger of so overloading it as to cause it to sink.
Solitude also includes caring for one’s physical health. Giving yourself the gift of solitude may mean allowing yourself time for rest and exercise, necessary ingredients for a healthy life. This may include, as we mentioned in our discussion