Self-absorbed rubbish from my Trash folder

Were Augustine to write of the effects of original sin today, I would imagine the current climate would give him the impression that self-absorption was the curse of Adam.

Occasionally, I receive e-mail that is mind-boggling. Perhaps the people who pen these gems assume that everyone with a Ph.D. is a psychologist. One which I received this week was a typical illustration of how self-centred people can become. I mention this because focussing so unduly on one's self would make any semblance of a spiritual life (which requires genuine self-knowledge - not close cousin to self-preoccupation) a far-off goal.

This correspondence was from someone I'll call "Jane," who apparently has found the answers to the problems of the universe by joining a 'diet club.' (Should you like to know why Jane thought that strangers were pining for this information, or why she was directing this missive to the webmistress of a site on mediaeval spirituality, I cannot enlighten you.) Jane, who reported her weight loss to date down to tenths of a pound, and, for good measure, explained why her programme was the best, is on verge of a "whole new life" because everything in this rubbish is connected to "achieving life goals."

However, Jane reported some serious, indeed quite distressing (ahem!), problems. Her family and friends, who probably received many yards of this material on a regular basis, are "not supportive of her efforts." This, Jane supposes, is because they are unable to "deal with change in her." She was wondering if she "needed to go to therapy" to deal with "these issues."

Keeping my usual firm grasp on Ocham's razor, I am wondering why Jane cannot see the obvious. She is not the centre of the universe, and others are hardly to be expected to direct their concerns towards her self-improvement kick. Presumably, Jane and her friends had some common interests which brought them together - and now all they hear of from her is about her 'diet club.' Most importantly, Jane is clearly so self-absorbed that she cannot pick up on their natural boredom, and is assuming that their lives are shattered by 'change' in her. I suppose she thinks she'll become all the more important and fascinating if she becomes a mental patient...

Why do I equally have the sense that someone out there will make considerable money taking her through this quasi-therapy - perhaps even more than whichever organisation put these ridiculous ideas into her head in the first place? Jane must have been quite narrow and self-centred in the first place, if the epitome of her existence is a slimming programme. (I'd be most curious as to which problems of this life would be any the less if one dropped a dress size.)

Now, back to my anchorhold, where one lives in the real world:

I spent a number of years in active ministry, and would say that most people who are dedicated to this have a genuine, quite deep concern for others. As I have noted in previous posts, because the essence of the desire to help others is loving, it is easy to be distracted by the desire to be special, to 'have all the answers,' and so forth. With consecrated life being a state wherein one has a certain detachment from those whom one serves, the loneliness, plus a longing for attention, can cloud our vision.

Of course, as I well know from experience, those (who are not in consecrated life) who are very involved in religious organisations often have the best of intentions - but, especially where 'programmes' are concerned, lose any larger perspective. I witnessed an online debate this week about churches maintaining a crèche for the little ones. (That shall be one of the last sounds that dies out on this planet at the last judgement.) One point of view will be that the children enjoy it - opposing voices will insist that it breaks up family worship - yet another is opposed to 'age segregation' on principle - the directors of the programme assume that children who do not attend have parents who are not aware of the availability - etc., etc..

There is no pat answer to such situations, of course, yet each of the arguments, valid though they may be, cuts off the awareness that other people's views and decisions are not a personal commentary on oneself.

Active ministry was quite a lonely situation - a life based on prayer and (largely) solitary is a step beyond. It is easy to become preoccupied with the needs one senses in one's own life. Yet one must be cautious in with whom, and how frequently, one shares this. Close friends can empathise, perhaps, and those very knowledgeable in the spiritual life can remind one that one's vocation is hardly based on (for example) getting attention. :) Yet most, understandably, will have no clue as to why one would live such a life - and one soon realises that the classic principle of 'reserve' is a balanced, realistic one.

I therefore am stopping here - lest truth I am seeking to express becomes an exercise in the very self-absorption which is problematic.