We had our silent retreat at the Jesuit Novitiate this past weekend. It felt good to sleep -though Rebecca and I were banished to the downstairs dungeon for women. What you lose in sex, however, you more than make up for in croissants and time to read. Their tea selection is less than perfect. It's a metaphor.
Serious though, I luxuriated in the quiet space I had with my teapot. Yes it was mine if only for the weekend. The sunlight, the Tao Te Ching, the sub-par overly epiphanal journaling, the super boring very white neighborhood, all of these added up to an intensely enjoyable time.
They say the human brain goes through some changes when under stress. For months now the left side of my head has ached intermittently throughout the day. Alarming, yeah? That pain was gone at the Novitiate, and in its place were other struggles. Catholicism was renewed for me through Ignatian thought, and I could feel myself almost fully accepting it. Almost.
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We had a talk with JVC about the crazy shit going down at Jack Morris House.
James broke a glass, though even after that it is difficult for me to think of that as the most egregious thing that's gone down.
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