Intimidated By The Mystics

Last semester, I faced the earth bound reality of my life by reading the God bound lives of writers found across centuries. No matter who it was and no matter the time period, the personal experience and method was the same. Elevation from routine, yet routine provided a palette. Perspective and orientation to life based on prayer, separation from distraction, and an intense immersion in life. Long epistles on the struggle of transforming oneself. (I liked finding these admissions.)

About mid-way in this class, I was overwhelmed with the awareness of my faults and bad habits. To say nothing of having to forge through the language of these writers, and find the finger that was pointing a direction.

DeFrancisco would point an occasional finger: "You can't have a relationship with God if you don't pray, and make prayer the foundation of your life." Like ten million other people, I have used prayer as the paddle on shit creek. Wiping my forehead and breathing a sigh of relief, I would happily cast it aside when shore was reached. But I would always put it in the canoe, in case I needed it again.

I certainly do not consider myself an academic. When in the middle of this 'forging through the
mystics,' I had to come up with a way to do it. I would read some, and stop. I would write out one or two lines that I made sense to me. I restrained my natural tendency to assess the writer as mentally ill. I would put the book down, walk, and return to it with a new commitment to a few more pages. I was actually motivated to learn something about praying, and having a God-driven life.

Finally, after weeks in this class, I simply said to myself: 'Linda, you are an idiot.'

I accidently found a book for idiots. Written by an anonymous 14th century mystic, I could actually understand what the author was saying. It was a primer. Which means it was written for me. Lots of instruction.

"All the same I will tell you a little about two techniques for handling distractions. Try them and improve on them if you can.
When distracting thoughts annoy you try to pretend that you do not even notice their presence or that they have come between you and your God. Look beyond them--over the shoulder, as it were--as if you were looking for something else, which of course you are. For beyond them, God is hidden in the dark cloud of unknowing. Do this and I feel sure you will soon be relieved of anxiety about them. I can vouch for the orthodoxy of this technique because in reality it amounts to a yearning for God, a longing to see and taste him as much as is possible in this life. And desire like this is actually love, which always brings peace.
There is another strategy you are welcome to try also. When you feel utterly exhausted from fighting your thoughts, say to yourself: "It is futile to contend with them any longer," and then fall down before them like a captive or coward. For in doing this you commend yourself to God in the midst of your enemies and admit the radical impotence of your nature. I advise you to remember this device particularily, for in employing it you make yourself completely supple in God's hands. And surely when this attitude is authentic it is the same as self-knowledge because you have seen yourself as you really are, a miserable and defiled creature less than nothing without God. This is, indeed, experiential humility. When God beholds you standing alone in this truth he cannot refrain from hastening to you and revenging himself on your enemies. Then like a father rescuing his small child from the jaws of wild swine or savage bears, he will stoop to you and gathering you in his arms, tenderly brush away your spiritual tears."

The Cloud of Unknowing


A lot easier for me than the instuctions for the thermostat that came with the new furnace.