Back to Gethseamni

It was supposed to be a search for another place for morning mass. That didn't work out so well.

Then it was supposed to be find a parish to do RCIA. That didn't work out so well.

Yesterday I wrote about how the only place I feel at home, and "in the right place," is Gethsemani.

This morning I went to mass at Gethseamni. How wonderful it is to be back again. What did I think I was looking for? How on earth did a search for another mass location go so horribly wrong? The answer has to be in the motivation, but I thought the motivations were exactly those that open this post.

Or were they? Isn't it possible that an increase of pressure from old-self caused friction with renewed-self, and old-self won? Or, could it be that some need in me for a more normalized worship environment, complete with a nosy and petty congregation?

The answer is beyond me at this point, but I will say this: going to mass at Gethsemani is the only way that I shall ever stay true to God. This is how I must worship. And I must go every morning, to the same place, forever. Maybe all I am is a wanna be monk, but it's much more complicated than that. When the greatest mistake of your life was letting a newly formed Order tell you at eighteen that you needed to have some kind of work skill to help support things, and are bascially told to go home, and then get the hell scared out of you at a monastery in New York state when you run across something that can only be described as an Elemental, then ...

Who knows. What I do know is that only at Gethsemani am I truly connected. Why? I don't know.

Pray for me.