On Becoming the Hermit I am Called to Be

[[Sister Laurel, is it really possible for you to make the inner journey you speak of in terms of existential solitude while part of a parish, writing this blog, and doing spiritual direction? I wondered if the solitude lived by hermits can allow for such activity. Are you familiar with the idea that hermits should exist apart from the temporal world and the Church, and still be a model for them? I wondered what you thought of that idea.]]

Your questions at first struck me as difficult to respond to. That is because I am doing those things you are questioning and I am sharing about it here. So, why wouldn't I believe that these are all possible? What I write here is rooted in my own experience and my own reflection on and analysis of that experience, even when I don't share the details of all of that. Not every hermit will write about this journey, or analyze and reflect on it in the same way, but every authentic hermit will make this inner journey with and into God, different as it may look from one of us to the next. I came to eremitical life with a theological background, what had grown to be an interest in "chronic illness as vocation", and a personal background that made the exploration of existential solitude particularly meaningful, especially if it witnesses to the richness of eremitical life beyond the common and narrow stereotypes that still plague the vocation through the agency of antisocial loners and misanthropes. 

Guided by Stereotypes:

While a lot may have changed since the publication of Canon 603, I have the sense that most folks today are still guided by stereotypes in their understanding of this vocation. (I am not referring to you here, I don't know you at all!) Some have a knee-jerk reaction to anything that does not comport with those stereotypes, and reject such hermits out of hand without even giving c 603 life a hearing. But eremitical life has never been so univocal as that, and in every age and culture, eremites have been pioneers witnessing to the significance of the inner journey with, to, and for God's own sake in ways reflecting the diversity of these cultures and ages and the infinite potential and richness of a life lived in and from God. Sometimes, instead of stereotypes, people judge the eremitical life from external characteristics alone: Does the person live strictly alone or in a colony of hermits (or even in a house with one other person)? If in a colony or in a house with anyone else, then some say they can't really be considered hermits. Do they wear habits or not? If so, then they can't be considered hermits because they are not living lives "hidden from the eyes of men". Do they remain anonymous? If not, then again, they are not really hermits. How about their dwelling and church activity? If they live in a quiet apartment or are an integral part of their parish community of faith, and do not reside in a lonely place in the desert apart from a parish community, then they can't really be hermits, etc. Both solitude and an eremitical life of the "silence of solitude" are much richer, more diverse, and much more significant for every person than most narrow stereotypical understandings or those measured merely in terms of externals allow for.

Of course, all eremitical lives reveal commonalities and some elements are sine qua non if one wants to live an eremitical life authentically. I once described these as the ridges and whorls making up any fingerprint, despite the meaningful differences from one print to the next. Canon 603 lists these constitutive ridges and whorls as follows: stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, profession of the evangelical counsels, a personal Rule of Life written by the hermit herself, all lived for the sake of the salvation of others and under the supervision of the diocesan Bishop. Each of us diocesan hermits lives ever more deeply into these elements, and we come to know by paying attention to the Holy Spirit that each one provides a doorway into a world wider and richer than anything we could have imagined.

Surprised by the Real Vocation:

For instance, when I was first reading about eremitical solitude, I could not have guessed that in its aloneness with God, it was a unique and rare form of community, nor could I have guessed it had to do with the redemption of isolation and alienation rather than their glorification or canonization! Similarly, I could not have imagined that the term "the world" refers not simply to the larger world outside the hermitage door, but instead,  to that which is resistant to Christ, though especially and primarily, that reality within one's own heart that represents the most pernicious and overlooked instance of this "world". Neither could I have suspected that parish life would present me with innumerable instances of instruction in learning to love and be loved by others as Christ loved --- all critical to someone presuming to live a genuinely solitary contemplative life! Finally, I could not have even begun to suspect that my own brokenness would provide the fertile ground for a flowering of God's love in a way that allowed me to journey into the shadow of death and despair and find there the source of all hope, wholeness, and holiness. It was in this journey that hiddenness, stricter separation from the world, and the silence of solitude all came together as c 603, I believe, well understands. Underlying all of this, I could not have seen that the theology I did (both undergraduate, graduate, and post graduate), prepared me incredibly well for the paradox, not only of the Christ Event that stands at the heart of my faith, but of the eremitical life itself, where solitude means a profound engagement with God on behalf of others and entails a careful engagement with others on God's behalf. 

Learning to be the Hermit I am Called to be:

When I began living this life, I had certain ideas about what being a hermit meant, just as you have. There were tensions between those beliefs and the ways I felt called by God to be true to myself and to God. What was ironic was that moving more deeply into eremitical life was made possible within and through those tensions. For instance, I thought solitude meant living apart from a parish community. Over time, however, I discovered that the time I spent engaging with others as part of and on behalf of parish life, also drew me more deeply into my solitary life with God. I chose to teach Scripture to a parish community (and to some who join us from outside it), and in the process found that my time in solitude was more and more fruitfully centered in Scripture. My prayer was richer, the inner work I undertook in spiritual direction was even better supported, and my life with others was both appropriately limited and more intimate and loving. 

Also important was the reading I did, and the people I had conversations with on eremitical life. Beyond this, I continued working with my director, and in all of this, the question of whether I was still called to be a hermit was at least implicit. We explored the tensions I experienced, discerned how I could be true to myself and faithful to God and this vocation, and time and again, what became freshly clear was that I was following my path to and with God and could trust that. As my inner journey became deeper, sometimes more demanding, and ever more fruitful, the truth of my call was reaffirmed many times over, and this inner journey became clearly identified with the vocation's hiddenness. (Because my vocation is also a public one (one of those tensions I mentioned), I rejected superficial definitions of hiddenness associated with anonymity.) Discernment was ongoing; nothing about the way I live this vocation went unexamined, and was examined again whenever circumstances changed, or tensions occurred or increased. Eventually, what became entirely clear to me was something I had glimpsed early on, namely, I am a hermit embodying a life defined by c 603; so long as I live my life with integrity and faithfulness to God, I will remain a hermit.

Same Ridges and Whorls, Unique Fingerprints: 

This does not mean anything goes, of course, nor does it mean that I myself am the measure of the meaning of the constitutive elements of c 603. It means I must continue discerning what is right for me and, along with the Church, my sense of this ecclesial vocation according to the way God calls me to wholeness and holiness. I have done that since 1983 and will continue to do so in all of the ways that are helpful and necessary. Absolutely, I will need to let go of preconceived and possibly anachronistic notions of what constitutes eremitical life, and I will continue to revise the way I live the normative elements as circumstances and maturation in my inner life necessitates. Again, the constitutive elements of c 603 are not words with a single, fairly superficial meaning, but instead are doorways into rich, multi-layered realms the hermit explores as part of her commitment to God and to God's Church, and, in fact, to God's entire creation in eremitical life.

Every hermit I know lives this life at least somewhat differently from every other hermit. Yes, there are the same ridges and whorls, the same constitutive elements as those made normative in c 603, but the way each of us embodies these ridges and whorls, our unique eremitical fingerprints themselves, will differ one from another. The activities you ask about help empower and give shape to my solitary exploration of C 603 in God. Should any one of them begin to detract or distract me from this journey, then I will let go of it.

Living in the World Without Being of the World:

I have to say your question about living apart from the temporal world does not make sense to me. I am temporal, that is, I live in space and time. I am an embodied, historical being. That is what it means to be human. Yes, I am also empowered by the Holy Spirit to transcend space and time in some ways, but I am neither atemporal nor ahistorical, nor can I be. One dimension of my vocation is to allow God's will to be Emmanuel (God With us) to be realized ever more fully in and through my life. Another overlapping dimension of my vocation is to allow God to make me into someone who is prepared to be wholly united with God in a "new heaven and a new earth". A third dimension of my vocation is to assist others in committing to and living from and with that same God, His Gospel, and the New Creation, of which Jesus is the firstfruits (1Cor 15:23). Hermits embody the truth of Jesus' charge to every Christian to be in the world but not of it. I am committed to that goal, but I cannot do it by abandoning my own historical (spatio-temporal) nature. Indeed, given the importance of the Incarnation in revealing both God's unconditional, inexhaustible love and the fullest truth of humanity, and given my own place as a sharer in that mission of Jesus, how would I even begin to do that? 

Matter or materiality is not contrary to life in God. We believe in bodily resurrection and bodily assumption. We believe that in ways known only to God, embodied reality (whatever that looks like!) has a place in the very life of God because of Jesus' death, resurrection, and ascension. We recognize that when Paul speaks of being a spiritual being or a fleshly being, he is speaking of the dimension of reality that defines us so that being spiritual means the whole person under the power of the Holy Spirit, while being fleshly means the whole person under the power of sin. In either case, we are speaking of being an embodied person. One of the miraculous witnesses of the Eucharist is to the way Jesus, as risen Christ, is wholly and gloriously present in, and at the same time, wholly transcends mere bread and wine. Sometimes I wonder if this is a foretaste not just of heaven, but of the way a glorified reality will ultimately be comprised. After all, when we speak of our ultimate goal, it is of life in and with God, which will also be embodied. The Scriptures remind us that we look forward to a new heaven and earth in which this exhaustive union involves the whole of creation, where the entirety is glorified. (cf, Isaiah 66:22; 65:17, Rev 21:1, 2 Peter 3:13)

On Inner Work and becoming Transparent to God (Reprise with Introduction)

I got repeated questions this week on the inner work I speak of so I decided to put the following piece from not quite a year ago up again. Behind it is the approach to growth work known as PRH (Personality and human relationships). What is essential to PRH is the recognition that human beings are wounded in relationship, and heal and grow in the same way. While it may sound strange to hear a hermit participating in such inner or growth work given this focus, much less depending on it as a key to growing in the silence of solitude, eremitical hiddenness, etc., I assure you it is not! For more on this inner or growth work I speak of, please see other posts with the same labels as this post.  Anyway, on to the post:

Sister, when you write about stricter separation from the world does the inner work you have been doing have a place in it? As I read your last post entitled, "Why isn't it enough?" I thought I got, just for a moment, a glimpse of why that would be important not only so you could live as a hermit, but also as an integral part of the eremitical life. This glimpse came and went in a flash so I can't say more about what I mean but maybe you know just what I am trying to say here. I know you have been criticized by readers in the past for needing to do such work and that you wrote it was integral to your vocation. I think re-reading your last post helped me understand this a little better because I saw you, and myself, and everyone else as having been distorted by the world and needing to do the inner work you speak of to become more clearly ourselves. That was the glimpse I got while reading what you were saying. I don't know if this is something you could write about, but my question is do I have this right? Does the inner work you speak of allow you to become "transparent to God" (your phrase) as you become more truly yourself?

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I definitely think you got it!!! The post you referred to re criticism of my own engagement in what I call "inner work" is found here: On Justifying Inner Work and it contains other links to related articles. It was also prompted by my discovery that the inner work I had been doing for a couple of years at that point might have shown me I had made a mistake in my discernment of an eremitical vocation; instead, it affirmed this vocation again and again. And regarding your second question, YES!!! Absolutely, the inner work is part of what allows me to become transparent to God as I become more truly myself. This transparency to God is the very nature of what it means to be truly human, so the more truly human I become, the more transparent to God. 

We speak about this phenomenon of transparency in a number of ways. The main ones affirm us as imago dei, and incarnations of the Word of God -- especially to the extent we live in light of and through Christ!! I believe the story of Jesus' Transfiguration is a story of his (eventually!!) perceived transparency to God by the chosen disciples. Recently Sister Susan gave me a mirror medallion developed by Richard Rohr. I believe that this too reflected (no pun intended) the notion of becoming transparent to God. It also reminds us that others are, to varying degrees, also transparent to God. The side of the mirror medallion facing one's own heart/self has a symbol of the Trinity on it; it represents the gaze of God and the way God sees us at every moment; the side facing outward is a plain mirror reflecting everything as it is without distortion or judgment. Rohr had experienced the Trinity as a dynamic reality moving through him --- in and out. This experience developed into a practice of receiving beauty and breathing it back out to others. I recognize it as a symbol of transparency to God and to being the imago dei to others, one who sees as God sees and also one who is seen as God sees.

Transparency is something that happens, something we become as more and more we become persons who allow the presence of God to be mediated through and in us. Transparency is a means of revelation, but also of standing truly and honestly as our deepest selves. God seeks to reveal Godself at every moment and mood of our lives and in many ways, we occlude or distort that revelation. Part of all of that "occlusion" comes from our own woundedness and the resulting fear of allowing God (and sometimes, anyone at all) to love us and fill us with God's life and light. Sometimes we have lost so much in trying to be open and trust or love that we cling tightly to the superficial image of who we truly are, even when that "self" is but an echo of who we once were and a shadow of who we are truly called to be. Letting go to allow something so marked by newness, dynamism (change!!), and Mystery, is simply terrifying. And so, when people look at us, they mainly see echoes and shadows, scars, woundedness, and diminishment because that is all we feel free enough to allow ourselves to reveal.

Pope Francis Says Vespers with the
Camaldolese Nuns and Monks in Rome

Sometimes our failure to allow the transparency and revelation God yearns for with each of us comes from other forms of rigidity and arrogance. We believe we know who God is because we were taught about who God is in religion or theology classes. We take refuge in formulae and rituals which at least as easily distance us from the real God as they draw us closer. We have learned these things, sometimes with great effort, and we feel safe with them where the "living God" is more Mysterious and awesome (terrifying) even while he is also intriguing to us (mysterium tremendum et fascinans); they are therefore hard to let go of and can occlude the revelation of the living God we are meant to become. It is the "inner work" I have written about several times now that allows the necessary healing and strengthening of ourselves so that we can live from our deepest potential and love as we are meant to love.

Because God is the source of the potential I am speaking of, and we are the persons who are created as we listen to and respond to that source, we are never ourselves alone (except to the extent we are sinners or impaired by the sin that has touched us) because God is a constituent dimension of who we are. The more truly ourselves we become, the more clearly and truly present God becomes within us. We become more and more transparent to the God who is, as Tillich put the matter, the ground and source of our being. God is not alien to us, nor is God some sort of weird or supernatural parasite within us. When we speak of God dwelling within us, we are speaking of something that is most deeply and truly an essential or fundamental part of ourselves. We cannot be "us" (or even alive at all) without this presence and the opposite is also true: the more we become our truest selves, the clearer and stronger this presence within us becomes. We are truly ourselves, truly holy and truly human when people look at us and see God in everything we are and do. This is what revelation is about and it is what transparency is about. 

The inner work I and others do and that I write about here, allows this to be realized in our lives and all we touch!! It allows us to be healed of all of those forms of woundedness that cripple or otherwise limit us and it opens us to the deepest potential that is ours so that we can live from that for the sake of others. Once I thought of this work as something I could do and finish with so that I could live my vocation as I am called to do. Now I understand that this inner work is part of the "asceticism" or even "penance" that necessarily accompanies my prayer and is essential to my vocation. In other words, I will not finish it -- though I will move through different stages of this work at various times throughout my life; instead, I will continue doing it as a foundational practice because in conjunction with prayer, as you say, it is essential to my vocation and does indeed allow me to become transparent to God ---  which is the essence of eremitical hiddenness, and the goal of my call to holiness and creation as imago dei.

More Questions on Inner Work and Becoming Transparent to God

Sister, when you write about stricter separation from the world does the inner work you have been doing have a place in it? As I read your last post entitled, "Why isn't it enough?" I thought I got, just for a moment, a glimpse of why that would be important not only so you could live as a hermit, but also as an integral part of the eremitical life. This glimpse came and went in a flash so I can't say more about what I mean but maybe you know just what I am trying to say here. I know you have been criticized by readers in the past for needing to do such work and that you wrote it was integral to your vocation. I think re-reading your last post helped me understand this a little better because I saw you, and myself, and everyone else as having been distorted by the world and needing to do the inner work you speak of to become more clearly ourselves. That was the glimpse I got while reading what you were saying. I don't know if this is something you could write about, but my question is do I have this right? Does the inner work you speak of allow you to become "transparent to God" (your phrase) as you become more truly yourself?

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I definitely think you got it!!! The post you referred to re criticism of my own engagement in what I call "inner work" is found here: On Justifying Inner Work and it contains other links to related articles. It was also prompted by my discovery that the inner work I had been doing for a couple of years at that point might have shown me I had made a mistake in my discernment of an eremitical vocation; instead it affirmed this vocation again and again. And regarding your second question, YES!!! Absolutely, the inner work is part of what allows me to become transparent to God as I become more truly myself. This transparency to God is the very nature of what it means to be truly human, so the more truly human I become, the more transparent to God. 

We speak about this phenomenon of transparency in a number of ways. The main ones affirm us as imago dei, and incarnations of the Word of God -- especially to the extent we live in light of and through Christ!! I believe the story of Jesus' Transfiguration is a story of his (eventually!!) perceived transparency to God by the chosen disciples. Recently Sister Susan gave me a mirror medallion developed by Richard Rohr. I believe that this too reflected (no pun intended) the notion of becoming transparent to God. It also reminds us that others are, to varying degrees, also transparent to God. The side of the mirror medallion facing one's own heart/self has a symbol of the Trinity on it; it represents the gaze of God and the way God sees us at every moment; the side facing outward is a plain mirror reflecting everything as it is without distortion or judgment. Rohr had experienced the Trinity as a dynamic reality moving through him --- in and out. This experience developed into a practice of receiving beauty and breathing it back out to others. I recognize it as a symbol of transparency to God and to being the imago dei to others, one who sees as God sees and also one who is seen as God sees.

Transparency is something that happens, something we become as more and more we become persons who allow the presence of God to be mediated through and in us. Transparency is a means of revelation, but also of standing truly and honestly as our deepest selves. God seeks to reveal Godself at every moment and mood of our lives and in many ways, we occlude or distort that revelation. Part of all of that "occlusion" comes from our own woundedness and the resulting fear of allowing God (and sometimes, anyone at all) to love us and fill us with God's life and light. Sometimes we have lost so much in trying to be open and trust or love that we cling tightly to the superficial image of who we truly are, even when that "self" is but an echo of who we once were and a shadow of who we are truly called to be. Letting go to allow something so marked by newness, dynamism (change!!), and Mystery, is simply terrifying. And so, when people look at us, they mainly see echoes and shadows, scars, woundedness, and diminishment because that is all we feel free enough to allow ourselves to reveal.

Pope Francis Says Vespers with the
Camaldolese Nuns and Monks in Rome

Sometimes our failure to allow the transparency and revelation God yearns for with each of us comes from other forms of rigidity and arrogance. We believe we know who God is because we were taught about who God is in religion or theology classes. We take refuge in formulae and rituals which at least as easily distance us from the real God as they draw us closer. We have learned these things, sometimes with great effort, and we feel safe with them where the "living God" is more Mysterious and awesome even while he is also intriguing to us (mysterium tremendum et fascinans); they are therefore hard to let go of and can occlude the revelation of the living God we are meant to become. It is the "inner work" I have written about several times now that allows the necessary healing and strengthening of ourselves so that we can live from our deepest potential and love as we are meant to love.

Because God is the source of the potential I am speaking of, and we are the persons who are created as we listen to and respond to that source. We are never ourselves alone (except to the extent we are sinners or impaired by the sin that has touched us) because God is a constituent dimension of who we are. The more truly ourselves we become, the more clearly and truly present God becomes within us. We become more and more transparent to the God who is, as Tillich put the matter, the ground and source of our being. God is not alien to us, nor is God some sort of weird or supernatural parasite within us. When we speak of God dwelling within us, we are speaking of something that is most deeply and truly an essential or fundamental part of ourselves. We cannot be "us" (or even alive at all) without this presence and the opposite is also true: the more we become our truest selves, the clearer and stronger this presence within us becomes. We are truly ourselves, truly holy and truly human when people look at us and see God in everything we are and do. This is what revelation is about and it is what transparency is about. 

The inner work I and others do and that I write about here, allows this to be realized in our lives and all we touch!! It allows us to be healed of all of those forms of woundedness that cripple or otherwise limit us and it opens us to the deepest potential that is ours so that we can live from that for the sake of others. Once I thought of this work as something I could do and finish with so that I could live my vocation as I am called to do. Now I understand that this inner work is part of the "asceticism" or even "penance" that necessarily accompanies my prayer and is essential to my vocation. In other words, I will not finish it -- though I will move through different stages of this work at various times throughout my life; instead, I will continue doing it as a foundational part of my life because in conjunction with prayer, as you say, it is essential to my vocation and does indeed allow me to become transparent to God ---  which is the very meaning of eremitical hiddenness, and the goal of my call to holiness and creation as imago dei.

Patient Trust

In light of the posts I have put up regarding the time and patience it takes to discern an eremitical vocation as well as on the impatience we often show with the newness that comes from God, I wanted to post the following poem by Teihard de Chardin, SJ.

Patient Trust

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
          to reach the end without delay.
We should all like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
          unknown, something new.
And yet, that is the law of all progress
          that it is made by passing through
          some stages of instability
          and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you,
          your ideas mature gradually --- let them grow
          let them shape themselves, without undue
          haste.

Don't try to force them on.
         as though you could be today what time
         (that is to say, grace and circumstances
         acting on your good will)
         will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
         gradually forming within you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing
        that his hand is leading you.
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
        in suspense and incomplete.

Always Beginners

[[Dear Sister Laurel, you wrote that hermits feel like novices even after living the life for decades. Why is that? I think Saint Teresa of Avila said like she always felt like a beginner in prayer. Are you speaking of the same experience?]]

Re your first query, what a terrific question --- and a difficult one too! I have never really thought about why one always feels like a beginner at living as a hermit even when one has lived this way for years (which, as I think about it, is definitely not the same as being a novice or neophyte),  but I would say that a large part of it has to do with the reason we are always beginners in prayer, yes. In other words, your question is a profoundly theological one and the answer itself has to do with the nature of God and the nature of prayer.

It is important to remember that prayer is more the action of God than that of human beings. Even when we define it as raising our minds and hearts to God we are speaking of something both initiated and empowered by God. Prayer is God at work in us, and when we speak of prayer periods or engaging in prayer we are speaking of those privileged or dedicated times we allow God to work more freely in us than we may at other times. Therefore, it is not, by definition, something we can become practiced at even though the smallest part of it involves our own actions and dispositions. While we can learn to relax physically, become comfortable in silence, deal with thoughts and distractions, open ourselves more or less to God's presence, a large part of prayer (including our desire to pray) is what God does within us --- and there is always a newness and a kind of incommensurability about this --- even when God's movement within us is subtle at best.

I think the second reason is related. When God is active within us, and especially when we open ourselves to that activity, we change. Our hearts become deeper and more expansive in their capacity to love, our eyes and ears are opened to the really real (Ephphatha!), our minds are also converted, and everything looks and feels differently because we ourselves are different. Thus, through the power of God we are attuned more and more to the eternal which interpenetrates our world and this means that things are never old, never static, and perhaps no longer really completely familiar. I think that ordinarily a piece of judging whether we are a beginner or not is gained by comparing how familiar doing something is. When these things are familiar there is an ease about them, and we are able to gauge the expected results without much conscious attention to things. With prayer, however, we are constantly being brought into a "far country" and in contact with a dynamic, living God we cannot imagine much less set forth expectations about. There is a sense of adventure here, even when it is very very muted; I am not sure that adventure in these terms is ever something we are "old hands" at.

At the same time there is also monotony and sometimes a tedium about eremitical life; like everyone we may crave short term novelty and distraction, but be uncomfortable with the patience and persistence required for genuine newness. Our world often mistakes novelty for authentic newness and we are profoundly accustomed to and conditioned by this. Yet, the yearning for real newness is a part of our very being. (In the NT there are two different words for new which accent this distinction. The first is kaines or kainetes which indicates a newness of character which is superior and respects the old; the second is neos which means new in time but can also mean a denigration of the traditional or the old.) The situation of monotony and tedium is exacerbated because prayer can seem like nothing at all happens despite our trust (knowledge) that God is present within us working, touching, loving, recreating, and healing.

In the short term especially we may not be able to see or sense the changes that are occurring within us and since the hermitage itself changes very little, in worldly terms we think we are not progressing. This too can make us feel like beginners because we don't feel "we are getting anywhere". It might seem that this conflicts with what I said above about the adventure of prayer, but it is more the case that both things are occurring at the same time and we see one or the other according to our perspective. I think though, that this set of reasons (focusing on our own progress in worldly terms) is far less significant or influential for contemplatives --- and that is especially true if we are speaking of St Teresa of Avila or someone similar.

In light of what I said about the distinction between novelty and authentic newness above, it occurs to me that some folks imagine heaven (the realm where God is truly Lord) as really tedious or boring (thus they fill it or at least imagine it filled with activities!); but the simple fact is that the God who is eternal and living is, for these very reasons, always new. Our own yearning for newness is a yearning for God and life with God, not a desire for novelty or distraction. (One of the reasons Christians embrace some form of poverty, by the way, is precisely to be sure their lives are attuned to the new (kaines, kainetes) rather than to the novel (neos). For those truly attuned to the new there is therefore less need to become shopaholics, less need for every new gadget or electronic gizmo. But the novel is seductive and religious poverty as value or vow helps limit the degree to which it seduces us!!) It seems to me that to the degree we are truly attuned to God's presence and live in grateful communion with him, to the extent we really are a new creation, all is new to us as well. We experience all of this with gratitude and the sense that we are always beginners.

I will definitely think about this more --- especially the link between gratitude and always being beginners just opened in the last sentences. The entire reality is fascinating, both as a topic and especially as an experience to which persons of prayer witness; so again, many thanks for the questions. I am sorry I don't have a better answer, but for the time being I hope this is helpful.