The noonday devil and midlife crises

[bardegaulois]

I’ve long asserted that sloth or acedia is probably the least understood of the capital sins. As we think of sloth in general parlance as meaning laziness, it conjures up images of an obese, unshaven couch potato, and while that might well be an example of spiritual sloth, I think there’s a lot more to it. Almost every source I consult considers sloth to be a neglect of or lethargy in fulfilling one’s duties before God and the duties of one’s state of life.

About a month ago I turned 35. I’ve come to the point where my youthful ambitions of entering the priesthood have largely become impossible, and I’ve been pouring myself into both my secular career and my ecclesiastical work. Ever since my birthday, though, my reflections have been taking on something of a different cast. I’ve come to a place where my past self-image has been destroyed, at times rather painfully, and in my secular work and in my position in the Church, it seems that I’ve received all that at one time I only desired. It’s a great work of the providence and mercy of God that such a position should be so prepared for me, as well as a conflict that I know will be engrossing me over the next five to ten years. In short, I finally have a rather good idea of what my duties and responsibilities now are.

But why every now and again do I look back over my past and think that, even though things all turned out for the best, they could have been quite different? Why do I often look at what I do as so paltry compared to the works of priests or monks. Why, when I try to see myself from the outside, do I see my modest fiat as so small, so insignificant? I thought for a moment that this could simply be the virtue of humility. However, as these thoughts make me lose courage in the face of my daily work and struggles, leading me to think it is false humility.

I’ve read that the noonday devil strikes at midlife, that period by which the trajectory of one’s life has largely been determined, one steadily is making progress toward a goal, and then the zeal that compelled one to choose that path vanishes, often accompanied by that aridity that makes even prayer and pious work seem laborious. Past consolations become burdens, and life becomes a trial of simply continuing to do what one was doing, the progresses and successes in it just seeming very unfulfilling, and setting the mind wondering about what might have been.

I haven’t really dealt with any great aridity to this point, but I must ask myself if this is acedia starting to make its presence mildly known, or if it’s something I should be watching out for more as I age. Any insights into this, or into the nature of sloth or any other of the temptations specific to midlife?

Thanks to all.

 

[Contra_Mundum_1]

I am 38 years old and I understand this feeling. I could have done so many other things had I taken different routes. A different field of study, a different career, a different place to call home. Could haves abound.

I think it is normal to think about this but it is not good to focus on it too much. Your life is what it is. It sounds things are going well and that you are where you should be. Even if you think about your could haves, don’t worry about them, don’t hold on to them. being aware of these things is not a sin, but a mere reflection of one’s life (and novels have been written about this topic), but if we obsess then it can become a source of sin. Many things can become a source of sin.

As we age we need to pray for the grace to accept our life, to be grateful for what we achieved and to look forward with serenity. I have only recently come to this point of acceptance, and still have a way to go.

 

[christofirst]

There is also the old saying, the grass always seems greener on the other side of the fence. We tend to think that what someone else has is somehow better than whatever we have.

Maybe there is a priest or monk right now with thoughts similar to yours: “What might my life have been like if I had raised a family or pursued a career in the world? What great things I might have done!” Better to consider the blessings each of you have now, not what might have been, and pray for all who might be experiencing such a time of doubt or regret.

You are still relatively young compared to me. You might be experiencing a kind of midlife crisis, but there is likely another crisis on the horizon where whatever you accomplished in life will be in the past, and the ability to identify yourself by the things you do will no longer apply. Maybe the thought of this coming crisis, which most of us face sooner or later, can help put your current crisis in perspective, and you can use this time of introspection to help prepare for what’s to come.

 

[Contra_Mundum_1]

You are still relatively young compared to me. You might be experiencing a kind of midlife crisis, but there is likely another crisis on the horizon where whatever you accomplished in life will be in the past, and the ability to identify yourself by the things you do will no longer apply. Maybe the thought of this coming crisis, which most of us face sooner or later, can help put your current crisis in perspective, and you can use this time of introspection to help prepare for what’s to come.

Thank you for sharing this. It seems that advanced age is a blessing in the sense that it forces us to detach from our doings and our identification with our achievements, and directs us to the real source of our human value and our very being.

 

[ClearWater]

I’ve long asserted that sloth or acedia is probably the least understood of the capital sins. As we think of sloth in general parlance as meaning laziness, it conjures up images of an obese, unshaven couch potato, and while that might well be an example of spiritual sloth, I think there’s a lot more to it. Almost every source I consult considers sloth to be a neglect of or lethargy in fulfilling one’s duties before God and the duties of one’s state of life.

About a month ago I turned 35. I’ve come to the point where my youthful ambitions of entering the priesthood have largely become impossible, and I’ve been pouring myself into both my secular career and my ecclesiastical work. Ever since my birthday, though, my reflections have been taking on something of a different cast. I’ve come to a place where my past self-image has been destroyed, at times rather painfully, and in my secular work and in my position in the Church, it seems that I’ve received all that at one time I only desired. It’s a great work of the providence and mercy of God that such a position should be so prepared for me, as well as a conflict that I know will be engrossing me over the next five to ten years. In short, I finally have a rather good idea of what my duties and responsibilities now are.

But why every now and again do I look back over my past and think that, even though things all turned out for the best, they could have been quite different? Why do I often look at what I do as so paltry compared to the works of priests or monks. Why, when I try to see myself from the outside, do I see my modest fiat as so small, so insignificant? I thought for a moment that this could simply be the virtue of humility. However, as these thoughts make me lose courage in the face of my daily work and struggles, leading me to think it is false humility.

I’ve read that the noonday devil strikes at midlife, that period by which the trajectory of one’s life has largely been determined, one steadily is making progress toward a goal, and then the zeal that compelled one to choose that path vanishes, often accompanied by that aridity that makes even prayer and pious work seem laborious. Past consolations become burdens, and life becomes a trial of simply continuing to do what one was doing, the progresses and successes in it just seeming very unfulfilling, and setting the mind wondering about what might have been.

I haven’t really dealt with any great aridity to this point, but I must ask myself if this is acedia starting to make its presence mildly known, or if it’s something I should be watching out for more as I age. Any insights into this, or into the nature of sloth or any other of the temptations specific to midlife?

Thanks to all.

“To thine ownself be true”, Shakespeare.

Not everybody is cut out to be a priest. You are you, and although this may seem “paltry”, that’s not only very okay but things are unfolding as they should. You are JUST as much a part of the divine plan as anybody else.

Our work and mission may seem small, but like in the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life”, don’t underestimate your impact. You have no way of knowing the many lives you have already touched.

If you have a true aching to do something more, then, achieve your dreams…but YOUR dreams and not somebody else’s.

 

[Auntie_A]

I don’t know about a noonday devil, etc but I suspect you need more spiritual counsel so you can get outside of your head. You sound bright but your intelligence seems to be working against you, perhaps creating a sloth-like feeling. Go talk to others and do for others. Read about the saints. Many of them were not very saintly in their midlife.

 

[bardegaulois]

This might be somewhat tangential, but I came across this essay yesterday morning, which seems to dovetail nicely into this conversation: salon.com/2013/07/31/living_in_america_will_drive_you_insane_literally_partner/.

The author here seems to be describing nicely what it means to be without vocation in life–and its attendant social consequences. Often the focus on putting one’s quest for a vocation into the traditional context–that of your several categories of priest, religious, generally married laymen–can stress only the milieu in which one would best carry out the vocation (a state vocation, I’ll call it) rather than the personal vocation itself, which is often very particular, unique, and individual. These are always affirmatively defined, and never negatively defined.

So I think my dilemma has been that I’m intellectually trying to balance my affirmative personal vocation against my negative state vocation. That’s I think why I place such value on my work and my duties. I didn’t realize that much until a friend asked me if I compartmentalized–work self, home self, social self–and I came to realize that I didn’t, because everything I do seems to fit my personality so well that I never really have to compromise my authenticity. It’s what I’ve really always wanted, and thus an amazing blessing, but… why can’t I get my mind off of what I’m not?