Dan's Thoughts

Trish #33 - July 15, 2004

Trish is working very hard to restore her conscious control over her left hand and foot. She can move them and use them. What is difficult is using them synchronisticly with her other hand and foot in order to do common tasks well.

She is also struggling to keep her attention focused on important things. If the television is on, she cannot keep a conversation going. If someone walks down the hall, she finds it hard to resist thinking about that instead of listening to her doctor. She struggles to consciously maintain her attention. She is constantly trying to work on restoring these simple but vital mental functions to her life.

I did not have an aneurysm but I am experiencing some of the same issues as she. Like her, I am finding that simple actions are making me very tired. My mind wanders and meanders like a rowboat tied to the dock, drifting lazily, this way and that, in unpremeditated response to the currents and cross currents formed by the wind and the wake of other boats. There are things to do and decisions to be made. People are waiting on me to act or to respond as I bob up and down, anchored to the events of June 1 and all that they have forced upon Trish and our world.

The universe does not pause while one is mesmerized by trauma. As the foundations of one's life shake and then begin to settle into some new pattern, the participant merely stares in fascination, completely enthralled by catastrophe. After the worse has past and the fascination turns into assessment, he begins to realize that his identity and perspective have been irreversibly altered. Though he may not know exactly in what ways life has changed, he feels the new reality manifesting itself in his every breath and in every decision he must make.

It is impossible to share much of one's experience with trauma. Trauma is a lonely business. After appropriate sympathy has been expressed, once kind words and gifts are given, one's friends and acquaintances naturally move on with their lives. While the traumatized person desperately wants to get "back to normal" with his friends, this is simply not possible. He stared at death. He prepared to accept inescapable and indescribable loss. The void opened up and while it was visible he witnessed the vacuous reality behind much of what human beings value and treasure. So, even though he hungers for his familiar life to resume, he knows something has gone and cannot be retrieved.

One must choose how he or she responds to crisis. Depression and helplessness arise automatically and become immediately tempting. It takes a lot of strength to resist them. These emotions and ways of "being in the world" require nothing and accepting them allows one to float and drift into irresponsibility simply because one feels entitled to do so. Anyway, it sometimes feels as though taking responsible action would be like spitting on a fire that is consuming one's house and home. What difference would it make? I can spit if spitting will make me feel better, In the end though, it makes no practical difference if I spit or if I don't. Maybe its not worth the effort.

The old saints thought this temptation to wallow in helplessness and despair to be the most serious of the seven deadly sins, what they called "sloth." By "sloth," the ancient Christians did not mean "being lazy and inactive." They used "sloth" to mean a mindless surrender to fate. In that sense then, sloth is a paralysis of the human will. It is a form of anger against life and perhaps even against God that revolves around a belief that whatever one does will be futile anyway. So the anger does not get expressed,as it usually is, in words or actions. This is an anger that does not motivate one to action but to inaction, to a resignation of ones being, to a decision to merely exist until the grim reaper inevitably comes to do his thing and to end the futility of life.

The old Christians thought this kind of despair to be the worse sin because it denies our ability to make responsible choices. It affirms the old lie that God does whatever He wants without any regard for us. It is giving up on becoming a creature of eternity and a companion of Divinity. It is a willingness to die before one dies. It is a choice to keep eating and breathing because suicide is not acceptable while ending the quest for meaning and purpose. And, of course, it is the surrender of faith in that it accepts despair as the default position of one's being. Sloth is making do with Hell as one's habitation.

Today, I am tempted by sloth. I don't have enough energy to commit some great shocking sin. My temptation today is toward "things left undone." I really don't want to do anything. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to even write this e-mail. I am just thinking about how life is going to work now and what I am supposed to do with all of this. I feel overwhelmed for the moment. So why not just slide into sloth?

This isn't right, of course. I know that. There was no funeral. The worse was avoided. We have experienced a miracle. Trish is recovering. People have been so kind to us. What right do I have to be sitting here whining in front of a computer? And yet, that is what I am doing

Probably, I should not sent this e-mail either but I am going to. The reason I am sending it is simple: what I am facing today is a part of the spiritual journey. It is the Ecclesiastes part of our journey. Genuine spiritual life is not just what happens in the Book of Acts or 1&2 Samuel. Even though all the exciting sermons come from action-filled books like those, Ecclesiastes is in the Bible because some questions and mysteries that life brings our way simply cannot be solved by a Prosperity Plan, a vision or a prophetic word. Sometimes, faith must wrestle with a mood that keeps sighing, "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity and vexation of spirit."

In a few minutes, I'll get up from this computer, go to the hospital and laugh with Trish. I am preparing to bring her home in two weeks and there is a lot to learn about her care before then. Naturally, I am grateful. But I am also a little scared. I am not sure what life is going to be like. This fear will not keep me from planning and acting, God willing. I just wanted to acknowledge how tempting it could be to take such a path. I have told you about the grace and the glory I have experienced in all of this. I wanted to tell you about the gook as well.

What I must do is keep my eyes open to the endless possibilities that are available to Trish and me. I must assess what valuable things we have learned that may prove useful to others. I must center myself in gratitude. I believe I can do all that as I drive to the hospital. I just wanted to tell you that doing it is not automatic. Sometimes what comes automatically has to be resisted, like the automatic weeds that destroy our flowers and food unless we remove them by hard work and focused attention.

Trish is working to relearn how to live her life. Sloth would kill her so she is pouring her energy into getting well and figuring out how to enjoy the rest of life. In fact, she just called me on the phone. It turns out that her therapy today included going to lunch at a restaurant near the hospital. She was with our daughter, Talitha, her therapists and some other patients. She sounded strong and happy.

"Hey! I'm having lunch with Talitha. What are you doing?"

"I have finished doing some work. I am on my way to see you."

"Some on down! I love you!" she said.

And I suddenly remembered why sloth is always a stupid option.

Dan