Suffering for the Common Good

Read a couple of passages about Flannery O'Connor's thoughts as a Catholic regarding suffering in Paul Elie's book An American Pilgrimage and they've stuck in my craw for days.  I'm not a Catholic, know next to nothing about Catholicism nor am I a philosopher.  Haven't read Kant or Kierkegaard or Hegel.  Nevertheless I think therefore I have opinions and O'Connor's thoughts on suffering, if they reflect Catholic thought, are so far removed from compassion as to verge on the cold bloodedness of a scientist studying the reactions of a lab rat.

She opines that the Believer is a realist.   Elie writes of her that, "the nonbeliever prides himself on his realism, his willingness to recognize suffering and to ponder the problem of evil directly.  In human deformity {suffering}, the Believer sees "the raw material of good."  The Believer sees the grounds of our common humanity, recognizing that it is through suffering that human beings are stirred to the love of one another and to the love of God, who showed his love for humanity through his willingness to suffer as  one of us." 

Suffering, if O'Connor is to be believed, is the finger pointing at the moon, not the moon itself.  Never mind the deformity or the pain or the starvation, it is a metaphor so that the rest of us can have a think about it and what it means to our relationship with each other and to God.

Which kind of leaves out the poor suffering slob who is thrust into the role of martyr for the betterment and peace of mind of the Believers. 

O'Connor suffered herself.  She was diagnosed with lupus as a young woman and so led a life circumscribed by her infirmity (she took cortisone for the lupus which over time softened her bones).  Nevertheless, I prefer Dorothy O'Day's (also in Elie's book) approach to suffering.  She took the direct approach and tried to alleviate it.  It was not a philosophical conundrum to be solved over tea.  O'Day lived alongside the poor and disenfranchised, suffered alongside them.  She took the unbeliever's stance and pondered the problem of evil directly by doing something about it.


So, I've had my rant.  Easy to pontificate away from the ease and comfort of my good health and comfortable home. Nevertheless....

Edgar, I am relieved to say, is without doubt getting stronger.  He  is standing more without splaying legs (I cover the bottom of the box with leafy twigs to provide traction), can eat on his own with food just dropped into his mouth rather than having a finger shove it down, and his attempts at walking are more frequent and better controlled.  He has a long way to go yet improvement is obvious and welcome.

He is starting to grow into his black fluffy stage.  Very cute.  His eyes are fully open with bright intelligence and curiosity.   

I have agreed to take Karen's three baby crows for four days while she goes to the coast.   A couple of days ago she texted me that she had them and did I want them to which I said no - too much work and smell and IF we had an inspection I doubt I could mask the crow smell successfully.  Did text back that perhaps, when they are older and nearing the time when they would fledge, they could come and live in the aviary with Edgar, form a bond so all four could be released together.  That seems the best way to introduce them into the wild.  Even wild crow babies don't always make it through their first year I read.  Forty-two percent die.  What are the chances of hand raised crows?  I don't know but will just have to try our best.  There is no other alternative.

Taking these three crows for a trial four days will be excellent for Edgar and perhaps I will find that I can manage them quite all right and can keep them until they fledge.  They will entertain each other and behave as crows should behave rather than having their personalities warped by interacting with humans.  (I find myself wanting to kiss Edgar's fuzzy black head, NOT conducive to keeping emotional distance from this wild creature). 

On the home front - not one iota of interest since dropping the property price to $399,000.  On Monday Richard, Anthony, Cameron and their families met at Laidley cemetery to affix the bronze plaque over David Anthony's grave, fully 44 years after he died.  They also dug a small hole on his grave for Glynis' ashes.  A major loose end finally tied off in a fitting manner.  Richard is kind and very family oriented.  Can't begin to imagine how David Anthony being in an unmarked grave all these years felt to him.  But now he has done what any loving father, and he is a loving father, would do. 

Now can we sell the house and move?  Crass of me I know but there you go.  I try not to want but I want nevertheless.  Try not to feel guilty about wanting and feel guilty anyway. 

Every day is a goulash of gratitude and guilt.  Was reading up on the various species of Buddhism.  My loo book is An American Pilgrimage by Paul Elie about four Catholics; Dorothy Day, Flannery O'Connor, Thomas Merton and Walker Percy.  It is subtitled, The Life You Save May Be Your Own.  The book details their Catholic conversion and their struggles with themselves,  philosophy, the nature of good and evil, poverty, war, writing and much else that pertained to being alive as well as what it meant to be Catholic.  One thing is for sure, none of them really had the answer.  Even Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk who lived the penultimate Catholic life of seclusion and reflection, even he was riddled with the angst which is part and parcel of being alive.

I don't think the 'isms have it.  Perhaps I just am not evolved or disciplined enough to understand what they offer yet it seems as soon as reality is filtered through the prismed opinions of someone else I am lost.  Reality is so immediate.  I sense that even if I don't know it.  It is as close as my next breath and the universe behind my eyelids.

Oh, yes, read a report on how some people have negative reactions to mindfulness meditation.  How interesting as sometimes I have felt, and I think I have written about it, this mild sense of panic, that if I don't open my eyes and move NOW.  It is irresistible.  There is a sort of external pressure which confines and frightens me.  Am glad I'm not alone.  Also glad it doesn't happen all the time.  In future, if I experience it, having read of these bad experiences, I won't fight it or berate myself for being weak-willed and undisciplined.