week 39/23

Mental Health Monday – Onward

Standard

Today is the first Monday in October, and that means that Suicide Prevention Awareness month has come to its conclusion. Now that you won’t be inundated with reminders every few tweets or threads to check on your friends, to drink your water, to breathe, it may seem as though you’ve been abandoned at the seashore with friends and neighbors waving you off.

This is not what it is, though.

Without the constant social media buzz, it is still important to remain aware of your mental health. Continue seeing your mental health professionals. Notice if the things you like to do become less fun or you dread starting projects. If you journal, continue writing. If you doodle, continue drawing. If you pray and/or meditate, keep up that practice.

Randomly mark a day on your calendar to see how you’re doing; is your coping toolbox ready for your needs?

Take a mental health inventory on yourself once a week or more if it helps you feel centered.

Check yourself, and check your friends.

The awareness month may have ended, but the awareness doesn’t.

You are not alone.

We are all in this together.

St. Therese of Lisieux

Standard
Shrine of St. Therese of Lisieux.
Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada.
(c)2023

Next weekend marks the second anniversary of the death of my priest. In some ways it feels like yesterday and in others it feels like decades since he’s gone. I don’t know if it’s been a disadvantage or an advantage coming into the church so late in life that I’ve only had one priest up until recently. He was a guiding force in my welcome and acceptance in the parish and the Catholic faith, borne from his being Christ in the world through love, care, and guidance.

This weekend holds two saints’ feast days that I strongly relate to Father Jerry. Yesterday marked Saint Jerome’s feast and today is Saint Therese of Lisieux. Jerome was Father’s given name, so there is the obvious connection, and he held a strong devotion to St. Therese, also known as the little flower. When we visited Northern Ireland for the burial of my mother-in-law’s ashes, we stopped in Dublin, where I had the fortune to visit and pray at a shrine of St. Therese. I brought home a postcard for him, knowing that he was devoted to her. At the time, I hadn’t known that she has a much closer shrine, northwest of here in Niagara Falls, Ontario, just over the border. From that shrine at the Monastery of Mount Carmel, the roaring Falls could be heard and if you could get high enough even see the Horseshoe Falls.

The Monastery of Mount Carmel has two shrines; one inside the chapel where I attended mass, and one outside. The outside one was at the end of a path guided by plaques with many of the things that St. Therese is known for having said, culminating in a round clearing bordered by flowers, several park benches and centered with a statue of St. Therese in white marble, holding a cross and an armful of roses.

Those plaques are shared below. I hope they can be read on their own, or prayed with as you like.

Take some inspiration from her words and life.

Continue reading

Feast Day of St. Jerome (of Stridon)

Standard

St. Jerome was known for his writing. He translated the Hebrew Scriptures from Hebrew to Latin, which was unusual at the time since most people translated it from a controversial text called the Septuagint, also called The Greek Old Testament. He is the second most prolific writer of in ancient Latin Christianity. The first is Augustine of Hippo, who actually had no problem with the original Septuagint.

As a result, perhaps, he is the patron of translators, librarians, and encyclopedists as well as archaeologists, students, Biblical Scholars, and against anger, the latter of which I believe stems from his widely known bad temper.

As a student in Rome, he indulged his hedonistic side, but also attended the catacombs of Rome to visit the martyrs and Apostles there. There were early inscriptions and wall art that I imagine he studied, although he referred to the place as giving the feeling of the terrors of hell.

To put it simply, Jerome was a person of contradictions, some of which can be sourced as his being a student, a constant learner, and a voracious reader and writer. He had a group of women who surrounded him that read his scholarly works, and several were turned towards a life of consecrated virginity and the ascetic monastic life. This had a negative impact on these wealthy women’s donations, and he became at odds with the Roman clergy.

He is considered a saint in the Catholic Church (and a Doctor of the Church there), Eastern Orthodox, Lutheran, and Anglican.

His iconography is often depicted in libraries and/or scriptoriums surrounded by books, parchment, vellum, and writing implements. He sits at a desk, holding a quill. He is also depicted with a lion having apocryphally removed a thorn from one’s paw.

In my sketch below, I have chosen to leave the lion and the saint outside the view as we look into his small cell of scholarly works.

Mental Health Monday – Quietude

Standard

Today is the observance of Yom Kippur. It is the Jewish day of atonement, a time to think back on the bad we’ve done and ask forgiveness, and to look forward on how we can be better stewards of ourselves and our time.

When I was a child, we were not allowed into the temple. I don’t know if that was because the tickets were too costly or if we children made too much noise and fidgeted too much. I have strong and fond memories of playing in the parking lot (which was devoid of cars) and playing with other children. We were dressed relatively nicely, but still playing outside until one of our parents came out to the door at the back, and from the top of the stairs shushed us. If I were being honest, this happened more than the one time.

Growing up, I had difficulty on this day. As a teenager, I would sleep until one in the afternoon, hoping to shorten the fasting we were required to do. I was annoyed that I couldn’t participate in my favorite pastime – writing – because writing was work. (Not to me, but my parents would not hear of it.) We didn’t have computers then, so that wasn’t an issue for me.

As I grew up, I never had a temple near me to attend services (except once) and so I spent my Yom Kippur fasting, reading one or two books, and speaking to G-d.

After I had my kids, I would take them on walks, read to them, and watch PBS.

On these Yom Kippurs that fall during my Catholic years I find myself seeking quiet. Reading. Praying. Fasting. (I try to only take my medicine with a little bit of water.) Thinking back on the last year and looking forward.

For those of you who are not Jewish, who do not observe the fast, this is a reminder that we all need that quietude; that time to take for ourselves where we’re not making shopping or to-do lists, where our brains are not turning over a mile a minute. Take the day if you are able, or an hour, or even a block of fifteen to twenty minutes, and just be. It can be contemplation, meditation, prayer, or just simply resting your mind. That time is your refuge, and it is needed just as much as water is for life.

(c)2023