Monthly Archives: November 2024

Boredom, the guide to mystery.

Eric Hyde is an Orthodox Christian psychotherapist writing at Eric Hyde’s Blog. I appreciated his brief musing, on the increase of his understanding of boredom from reading Heidegger; he combined it with his own experience and that of his clients, in this post: “Heidegger’s ‘Profound Boredom’: using boredom to cultivate the soul.”

Heidegger names three levels of boredom, the most extreme which is profound. To many people, the idea of profound boredom probably sounds frighteningly close to deep depression — a condition to be avoided at all costs. But I have heard more than one person say that they welcome boredom — even if it is said half-jokingly, as in, “I wish I had time to be bored!” But there are various ideas out there about what boredom is, and theories about what to do about it, if anything. I’d like to learn more about the difference between boredom and acedia. So this probably won’t be my last post on the subject.

Eric Hyde writes:

“If you’ve ever sat alone at the beach, or in the mountains, or the country, or sat gazing at the fully illumined night sky and had that deep sense of your own smallness, of your own seeming triviality in the broad scope of existence, and yet rather than crushing your soul it gave you a sense of calm wonder, a sense of spiritual ordering, then you’ve likely had the experience of profound boredom as Heidegger described it.

“In short, what I found so powerful in the notion of profound boredom is that boredom has the power to grant a person ‘attunement’ to oneself and to existence as a whole—or more properly speaking, attunement to Being as a whole—in a truly spiritual manner. Rather than causing torment, boredom, if used properly, can be at once a guide to peace and a guide to the very mystery of being.”

I’m familiar with this attitude, because it is commonly taught in the Orthodox Church; offhand I think of books on prayer by Metropolitan Anthony Bloom.

Hyde gives three tips:

1. Don’t wait for boredom to find you—search it out.
2. Once there, allow boredom to reveal its message.
3. Repeat daily.

All ye among the halls of heaven…

O SAVIOUR, FOUNT OF HEAVENLY LIFE

O Saviour, Fount of heavenly life,
Assist us in our earthly strife;
Thou pitying Virgin, hear our cries,
And raise us from our miseries.

Angelic hosts our needs attend;
Ye holy patriarchs, defend;
Ye choirs of prophets, by your prayers,
Protect us from unholy snares.

Herald of Christ, we call on thee;
And thou that hold’st the golden key;
Apostles all, your voice we claim,
Dissolve the bonds of sin and shame.

Triumphant martyrs of the Lord;
Ye holy preachers of the word;
And virgins chaste; to you we pray;
Wash all our sinful stains away.

All ye among the halls of heaven,
To whom the light of love is given,
In pity hear our cries, — that we
The glory of God’s face may see.

All praise and honour, power and love
To God the Sire who rules above,
Unto the Son like glory be
And Holy Ghost eternally.

-Rabanus Maurus (780 – 856) Germany
Translated by Daniel Joseph Donahoe

Rembrandt – St. Jerome in Prayer

Venerable Paisios Velichkovsky

Today is the feast day of St. Paisus Velichkovsky, whose story you can read on the website of the monastery founded in his honor, St. Paisius Monastery, where I went on pilgrimage two years ago: “The Life and Mission of St. Paisius Velichkovsky.”

A quote from the saint for contemplation:

“One must clean the royal house from every impurity and adorn it with every beauty, then the king may enter into it. In a similar way one must first cleanse the earth of the heart and uproot the weeds of sin and the passionate deeds, and soften it with sorrows and the narrow way of life, sow in it the seed of virtue, water it with lamentation and tears, and only then does the fruit of dispassion and eternal life grow. For the Holy Spirit does not dwell in a man until he has been cleansed from passions of the soul and body.”

+ St. Paisius Velichkovsky, “Field Flowers”

The whiteness of the moon at even.

The first full moon in November is traditionally called the Beaver Moon in North America, and marks the season when we might be busy as beavers getting everything shored up against winter.

Lately I’ve been refreshing my memory of the hymn that I memorized soon after my husband’s passing, a version of St. Patrick’s Breastplate from Charles Villiers Stanford. He used two old Irish tunes to compose a majestic setting for Cecil Frances Alexander’s poetry. The YouTube version I learned from is still up: “St. Patrick’s Breastplate.”

On the occasion of the full moon I am sharing only the portion of the hymn that draws our spiritual eyes to the natural world.

I bind unto myself today
the virtues of the starlit heaven,
the glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
the whiteness of the moon at even;

the flashing of the lightning free,
the whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
the stable earth, the deep salt sea,
among the old eternal rocks.

Another version of this ancient hymn is “The Deer’s Cry,” and my favorite rendition of that one is sung by Lisa Kelly here: “The Deer’s Cry.”

What could I add to this prayer? The blessing is in the singing of it.

Darial Gorge, Moon Night by Ivan Aivazovsky, 1868