Oh, sweet humility

Living with and around the Cistercian Monks of Our Lady of Dallas Monastery can be--among other things--a great spiritual blessing. Convenient prayer, "after hours" confessions, and the opportunity to witness the monks live out a consistent commitment to their vows are all so very edifying.

So while I do benefit from some of the amenities of being a monk without actually being a monk, I do try to make a meaningful contribution to the lives of the monks in gratitude for their relieving me of some of my (monetary) existential concerns: The breakfast I cook is always extra greasy, just the way they like it, I clean efficiently, and I work the switchboard with semi-distracted concern (i.e. this blog entry).

But for all my vanity, I can't prevent the occasional humiliation that comes with not taking complete custody of my thoughts and words. Last night serves as an excellent example. All of the monks usually eat as a community at 6:15PM and finish in time for Compline at 7PM. Usually some will stray back into the refectory for a little snack, but by 8PM the coast is clear. Last night, however, one Irish priest whom I admire and respect deeply, came in for a late dinner, which usually means an ad hoc sandwhich, some crackers--maybe, and a drink. I saw him on my way through the refectory into the kitchen, where two of my other roommates were convening, which is a rarity to have all three of us in one location.

After a few minutes, the three of us roommates made our way into the refectory, which by the way, is divided by a wall into the "eating section" and a "serving area." The wall does not fully extend so that one can walk around it if needed. Our discussion turned to colds and sinuses, and somehow my mind fancied away from the memory of the dining priest over to the movie Airplane, and I proceeded to say in a boisterous manner, "I guess I picked the wrong week to stop smoking methamphetamines." And of course, I didn't stop with that reference, I went right on ahead to the next quote, which is, "I guess I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue."

As I peered around the corner of the wall, there I saw the holy Irishman munching away at his dinner thinking God-knows-what about the words that escaped my then wide-open mouth. Somewhere in my shame I mumbled an apology for interupting his meal and fled the scene in great haste.

This story probably surprises no one, but hey, whatever takes a whack at pride.

-CS

An interview right up my alley

A talented Catholic in the movie "righting" business?

She's so in your face, so no holds barred.

-CS

A New Look

Ok, so maybe this change wasn't for the better.

I kinda had to commit in order to see what the changes would look like. To all you professional bloggers out there, is there a way to edit out some of the unsightly features in any of these templates and then maybe put in some of my own more sightly ones?

Although I am usually more conservative when it comes to living life, sometimes I feel like I have to break free from those things which inhibit my creative motion.

Here's to freedom...

-CS