I've been readig from Imitation of Christ during my morning prayer time. I needed to kick my prayer habits back into gear after a rough few months, and that book is always a good place to turn when I need an overhaul spiritually. It also makes me think--a lot. The past two days readings have left me with a lot to mull over.
Here's what I'm chewing on:
From Lesson 8:
"No need to share your secrets with the world at large; find some man of good sense and piety to be your confidant, and put your difficulties to him. Grudge the time you spend in youthful company or with strangers from outside. Let us have no flattery of the rich, no fondness for being seen about with important people; humble and simple folk, the pious and well-disciplined, these are to be your associates, and your talk must be of gracious things...Your kindness--everybody has a claim on that, but familiarity has its disadvantages."
From Lesson 10:
"What makes talkers of us, is that we find relaxation, on both sides, in the mere bandying of words; we want an escape from the tedious whirligig of our thoughts. We like giving expression to what is in our minds...we may get comfort from finding an outlet like that, but it interferes, more than a little, with that inward comfort which is a gift of God.
We need more watchfulness, more prayer; our time mustn't be frittered away in doing nothing...let your talk be such as makes for spiritual profit...I mean, the earnest exchange of ideas about spiritual things."
I mentioned in my last post that I had felt drawn to preserve the intimacy of our family life for awhile, to be guarded about what I gave away. I wanted to come back to the blogging world, to give expression to my thoughts again, to log ideas about learning and living the liturgy, to preserve a record of our family life.
But I'm taking these admonitions seriously, and wondering what our role as Catholic wives and mothers really is in cyberspace. Surely it isn't to eat away our time in frivolous conversation astempting as that may be in the difficult moments of our days (or maybe I'm the only one prone to "sit and click" syndrome on bad days?). And surely we're called to keep our secrets from the world at large...so where's the line of intimacy of guardedness, what can we give away freely from our family life, and what comes with a price?
I guess I also wonder about my own motives. Does the occassional flattery in the comment box motivate me? Does the feeling that I've joined the company of the well-spoken Catholic women of the blogging world bring me satisfaction? Is there a way to be part of this world and avoid that temptation?
I would hope it would be possible to make our blogs places were we talk of gracious things, where we earnestly exchange spiritual ideas. But it gets muddied doesn't it? It's not easy to clarify your own motives in this cyberworld or to judge how others will react or respond. So I'm asking myself is there a benefit? Can it be spiritually healthy, this practice of blogging?
Surely I know of blogs that inspire me to holiness, that witness well to the life we have been called to live. But I know of a dozens of spiritual books unread on my shelves that would do the same. Surely I am fed by the thoughts and ideas I glean from the cyberspace mommies. But could I not get as much from an intimate conversation with a personal friend...or by seeking conversation with my husband? I wonder sometimes if the communication overload of the web leaves less of me for him. Would I invest more in my personal relationships if they were all I had in times of loneliness, feelings of isolation, moments of discouragement, and even in times of great joy. An even more pressing question, I guess, is do I put less effort into my inward conversation with God when I am under the illusion that my need for self-expression, companionship, inspiration can be met in this world?
Please do not think I am calling blogging evil, I'm doing it now. I'm just considering its true purpose in my own life and its effect on my soul's well-being. If you care to chew on any of these questions with me, the combox waits anxiously for your thoughts.