“What picture would I use for my holy card should I make it to sainthood, and of what cause(s) would I want to be patroness?”

I didn’t have to think about this one for too long.  If I ever make it to sainthood I would like to be known as:

“Patroness of Lay Contemplatives Languishing in the Workforce”.

Yes, little ones, you may call on me to intercede if:

a)  You would rather stay home and pray than earn money, but your spouse and/or bank manager is not in agreement on this point, and you do, in lucid moments, acknowledge the importance of feeding the children;

b)  Your daily commute finds you consistently failing to disembark at the right stop because you were deep in prayer (despite the multitude of cell-phone conversations going on all around you, none of which, as far as you could ascertain before you “slipped away”, were conversations with God);

c)  You are no longer welcome in staff meetings because your colleagues neither comprehend nor appreciate your morals/ethics/point of view/silence; you now rather enjoy being ostracized because you can actually feel St. John of the Cross slapping you on the back, urging you to put down your calculator and go make coffee for everyone, and make it properly;

d)  You are considered a snob because you have missed every office function for the last fifteen years since they all conflicted with your beloved liturgical calendar;

e)  You skip out at lunch just for Mass but when you emerge from the church it is dark outside and upon making your way back to the office you find everyone has gone home and the door is locked.  Again.
 

St. Gabrielle

Patroness of Lay Contemplatives
Languishing in the Workforce 

I tag for sainthood (if they have time):

Hush of Mother of the Life Within
Pia of Beyond the Horizon 3
Ann of Poetry, Prayer, and Praise
MarieCecile of Soulful Longings

The book beside me right now is, The Gates of Eternal Life, by Adrienne von Speyr.  So, I’m opening to page 123 (oh, thank goodness, it does have at least 123 pages).  Bear with me, I’m finding the fifth sentence (quandary of quandaries, do I include the first partial sentence at the top of the page or not?  No, I’ve decided not to include the first partial sentence.)  So I’m counting now, one, two, three, four, five.  And here we go; the next three sentences are:

“But it is difficult for the Christian to distinguish the Spirit in his experience of faith from his own faith, his own understanding, from what he calls his own spirit.  The Spirit, however, is nevertheless the great Other who gives himself in ever-renewed, difficult encounters between the divine and the human spirit.  Man must bear the Spirit within himself, in order to arrive at an image of eternity – less for himself than for others – that is attractive and inviting.”

Well now, I simply hate to quote things out of context and run, but… I must make haste and go and make my (in)famous three-bean-salad-with-four-beans.  The recipe says it can stay in the fridge for weeks, and you know what?  Sometimes, it does.

1.  I have a fondness for eccentrics.

2.  I cannot attend serious, dignified events with people I like, because we end up in fits of giggles at highly inappropriate moments.

3.  I really like the impact of short videos.  You’ve probably noticed.

4.  I like things to be balanced.  For instance, if I walk into a wall and bump my right shoulder, I’d like to bump the left one too, just to make it even.  I don’t, but I’d like to.

5.  I cannot read upsidedown.  I have a teacher-friend who can, and she says it comes in very handy on parent/teacher night.  I’m not sure when it would come in handy for me.

6.  I don’t care for licorice.

7.  The power went out this week for a few hours.  Seeing as how the house was fairly warm and I had no intention of doing anything even remotely resembling this, I rather enjoyed the peace and quiet.

8.  I would leave the Christmas decorations up all year if they would let me. They won’t let me. 

• I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
• Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
• People who are tagged need to write their own post about their eight things and post these rules.
• At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
• Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged.

Well, I guess I don’t mind revealing a few more things, but remember, random is the operative word.

1. My knees are starting to give out, despite the fact that I’m convinced, and have told them so, that they’re definitely too young for this to be happening.
2. When I was in Grade 9 I took typing, and for a year I typed everything that anybody said to me in my head, at approximately 130 words per minute. 
3. I learned to swim when I was twenty-nine years old.  I signed myself up for beginners adult lessons being offered at the local YM/YWCA.  I was very proud of myself and pleased with the program, particularly since I had been so disappointed with the aerobics class (which consisted of a woman in her seventies teaching us how to dance with flowing scarves). 
4. I am a bit of a chocoholic.  I do not have anxiety attacks if there is none in the house, but I have been known to whimper – just loudly enough for someone to get in his car and drive to the drugstore.  He’s a good man, he is, and I do not even have to explain to him about seratonin.
5. Speaking of drugstores, I once flew out of the drugstore with an emergency purchase which we were in a frantic hurry to deliver to someone.  I flung myself into the car yelling something along the lines of, “Let’s move it!”  Unfortunately, it was a similar but wrong car, with a similar but wrong man at the wheel.  It has never happened since.
6. My mother taught me how to paint and wallpaper when I was a child, then she progressed to teaching me all things relative to repairs/maintenance (my dad had died when I was little).  Caretakers in apartment buildings where I lived as a young woman used to borrow things out of my toolbox.  I never understood all the fuss about feminism.  Just do it.
7. Sometimes I tip over for no apparent reason.  I should probably look into that, but in the meantime, it’s a source of amusement for the family.
8. This last one may help you to understand me a little bit better, and if it does, could you please let me in on it?  Several months ago, teenage son, in all seriousness, asked me:  “Mom, why is it you know so many things that no one else knows, but you never seem to know anything that everyone else knows?”  What could I say, except, “I don’t know”?

I’m breaking the rules here and won’t be tagging eight people, but if you read this and want to do the meme, just tell us in the combox, and we’ll head over to read all about you!  Until next time, I remain, yours truly, the tippy one with unreliable knees, the one who used to float through a room like Isadora Duncan.

Now, no more memes.  We really must get back to some serious detachment discussion, because you know what’s coming up?  Me.  Me, me, me, me, me.  It’s all about me. The me in each one of us.  Yes, we’re going to get “me” under control if it’s the last thing we do.  Or my colour ain’t blue.   

As everyone who has done this meme has stated, it is next to impossible to narrow things down to this degree, but here it goes:

3 non-fiction:

No specific titles, but I tend towards:

• alternative/natural medicine
• holistic living
• “how to” books on time-management for working moms (nothing which ever seems to gel, she said, as she tripped over the laundry basket)

3 fiction: (they touched my teenaged-heart irreversibly)

• The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (Carson McCullers)
• The Return of the Native (Thomas Hardy)
• Such Is My Beloved (Morley Callaghan)

3 authors: (passionately used to read anything I could get my hands on)

• A.J. Cronin
• Lillian Hellman
• Margaret Laurence

3 books that no one should read:

• I don’t think I could ever tell any mentally-stable adult not to read something.  God works in mysterious ways.

Well, I forgot to mention my years devoted to Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group.  And no one (?) has mentioned the playwrights.  I was desperately in love with Eugene O’Neill.  Has there ever been anything better than, “Long Day’s Journey Into Night”, I ask you?  Oh, and Arthur Miller.  Have we mentioned any poets?  William Carlos Williams.  Sigh.  Walt Whitman.  Big sigh.  I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least mention Stephen Leacock, W.O. Mitchell, Margaret Drabble, Willa Cather, the Bronté sisters, oh, oh, and Misters Eliot and Pound, Daphne du Maurier, oh, this has taken on a life of its own….help me, help me, it’s a meme twilight zone, help…me…

If they haven’t already been tagged, I’d like to pass this on to Judith, Aeternus and Ann. May they not slip into the twilight zone.