Monastic Life

Yesterday while I was reading the history of the Order of the Discalced Carmelites, I was seized by the desire to go back in time -- the times of St. Tesera of Avila, its foundress!

She founded a small, close community of women who dedicated themselves to intimate and contemplative prayer. And they lived in monasteries!

I wanted to be in one of those monasteries; praying all the time! Praying and contemplating on the word of the Lord!

Soon I realized that I too could be in a monastery; I need not travel time! I need not be in the literal structured monastery as my heart was my monastery!

I realized that I could switch myself off from the disturbances of the world and settle down in the monastery of my heart -- perhaps this is what even Jesus had meant when He said, "Go to your room, shut the door and pray to your Father in heaven". I realized that my heart is my room, my cell in the monastery! It is here that I need to pray and contemplate; confine myself in the interior of my heart.

I understood one more thing -- the meaning of St. Teresa's book "Interior Castle". Though I haven't read it and know not anything about its contents, I realized that by "interior castle" she must have meant the interior of our heart. I don't know; I am not sure but I would like to believe that!

PS: After I finished writing this thought, I came across something which had been told to us around a week back.

We were told that "our hearts should be our oratory -- a small place to withdraw from time to time". I had written it down in my notebook.

When I came across this again now, I immediately checked the meaning of oratory -- it means a small chapel, especially for private worship. How happy I am to know this!

So this sums up my desire to lead a monastic life -- I need not confine myself within the walls of a structured monastery like the cloistered Carmelite nuns. As a secular Carmelite, I am to live in my heart's monastery and withdraw myself to its oratory from time to time to pray, contemplate and have an intimate relationship with Jesus!

Oh what an enlightening thought from the Lord! Thank you, Jesus!

Pain is temporary...

Prayers on her lips
Tears in her eyes
She loves Him with a faithful heart...


On a moonlit night
In the serene yard
Sits a solitary figure
Musing on her troubled past...


She vanishes into nothingness with her thousand unfulfilled dreams...
He stops her from fading away!
She's His most cherished dream!


Forlorn eyes, forlorn dreams
Pair of forlorn eyes look into the forlorn past!


Her eyes look for Him in the crowd...
Her heart cries in pain!
He turns away in sorrow,
Her world crumbles down again!

I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY SPIRIT

I am currently reading the ‘Catechism of the Catholic Church’ (now for the nth time) and reached the part which says I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY SPIRIT (page no. 139).

It says – “Knowledge of faith is possible only in the Holy Spirit: to be in touch with Christ, we must first have been touched by the Holy Spirit. He comes to meet us and kindles faith in us. By virtue of our Baptism, the first sacrament of the faith, the Holy Spirit in the Church communicates to us, intimately and personally…”

Well, I have read this before but this time something stirred within me! Perhaps the Holy Spirit Himself – reminding me to be grateful to Him for this closeness with Jesus. For this love and faithfulness for Jesus!

This reminder comes to me when the seventeenth anniversary of my Baptism is just two days away!

Immediately, I thought of the book that I read on Holy Spirit and the blog I posted.

Here’s an excerpt from my blog post back in 2010 when I discovered the Holy Spirit.

Again, what a Divine Providence! It was around the same time in April!

Excerpts from my blog post:
http://jubileecardozo.blogspot.in/2010/04/we-have-discovered-holy-spirit.html

But I didn’t know about the power and grace of the Holy Spirit till recently. I didn’t even know that I had to believe in the Holy Spirit. A not-that-old Roman Catholic, (I was converted to Christianity in 2001); I didn’t know I had to believe in the power of the Holy Spirit. As told during my catechism classes, I just prayed to Jesus Christ and was very happy basking in His glory. But Holy Spirit had to be brought into my life just as Jesus Christ had been brought into my life as destined.


It was on 9th April, 2010, that I went to Jason’s auntie’s place for some work. She gave me a book titled GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT written by Benny Hinn. While giving me the book, she told me that not everybody can get to read this book. She had lent this book to a lot of people but not everybody could read it. Most of the people returned the book unread as one needed the grace of the Holy Spirit to read this book. So by the grace of the Holy Spirit, I started reading this book on 12th April, 2010, and am on the verge of finishing it any day. So, may I take the liberty of saying that I was destined to read this book and be touched by the Holy Spirit? How lucky and blessed I am!

Gardening

I have always loved gardening.

Dogs and plants have always been my weakness and right from my childhood, I could not do anything about these two.

My father would not allow dogs at home and I had no money of my own to buy plants.

In Bhilai Sector 5 we lived in a quarter where there was a huge place both in the front and back of the house to grow plants. But my father never ever showed any interest in gardening. I was a child then and so I could do nothing about it. But as I loved plants, I would grow anything that was given free to me by my neighbour who had a beautiful garden - in the front as well as the backyard. They also participated in Bhilai Garden Show and always won. They had a dog also! So I would always be with my neighbour's dog and water their plants - as I loved doing that! Then I would bring some small plants from them and try to grow in my so called garden. Then I would water these plants and satiate my love for gardening.

Then we shifted to a place called Durgapur where again I started growing few plants - I guess mostly jasmine. It was an extremely small patch near a tap! By the time they started flowering I had to move on again. This time to Vasai.

We lived in a small flat in Vasai and so the window was all I had to grow plants. I managed to keep few pots but while watering, the water would fall on the window of the people living below us. She fought with us for this and my father threw away all my plants! That was the end of my gardening.

Then I got married and life really kept me busy with other things. Gardening took a backseat but still I bought few plants here and there once in a while but I couldn't manage them. So all my plants died and so did my spirit for gardening.

But the gardener in me has again kindled the passion for gardening and I have again bought a lot of indoor plants now. I am really enthusiastic about plants like the way I was in Bhilai and I am trying to take good care of them. I talk to them and water them and I really hope that at long last I will be successful in achieving my goal of a small garden for myself.

Let me start again...

I have reached an age where I can focus on my career all over again.

Though I have never been a career-oriented person and my family has always been my priority, right now I am at such a phase in my life that I can focus on my career all over again. I know that my kids are not crying for me at home. They are neither at the crèche nor are they waiting for me to help them in their homework.

My kids are in their teens now and manage things on their own – they do their own homework, they have friends with whom they chat online and talk over the phone – mommy is not somebody they turn to for everything! But I am always there for them.

So, let me iterate – let me take a fresh look at my career and focus on it – let me achieve something that I could not earlier.

I have realized that I am a late bloomer in some of the things in life but what the heck!

It’s never too late - Let me start again!

Plateaus & Plato

People keep asking me what I do for a living.

Well, my answer to them is that I breathe, I eat, and I sleep. I repeat this day in and day out. Isn’t that required for living as I am a living being?

And I also love being at home.

I have always loved being at home because I am a homebody. Right from the beginning of my life I have enjoyed being at home. Even now I prefer spending most of my time in the familiar environs of my home than somewhere outside. It takes a lot of my efforts and cajoling to be seen out there doing something. That’s the reason I never went out of my way to get even my passport done until recently. I love being in my own country, with the people I know. I would be lost in unfamiliar surroundings.

It is because of this homebody tendency that I prefer working out of home. It was a great struggle for me to be working as a full time professional. Consciously, I would pick up low profile jobs which didn’t demand much of my time outside home. I got working not out of ambition and passion but financial independence as I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. When kids came in my life, they became the reason to be home on time – I would hate anyone or anything stopping me after official hours. As I have mentioned many times before, I sacrificed jobs to be with them and in the place I loved.

Even as a student, I had my own preferences. May be the homebody in me liked to study the subjects that I really loved. I would prefer reading about plateaus and Plato instead of pentagons, polygons and Pythagorean theorems. This earned me the wrath of many teachers but I was fine with it as I always knew where I had my heart lingering and I was happy in my own small world and have always been. Historical characters and geographical conditions interested me more than the mathematical calculations and scientific names of plants and animals.

I never had any lofty ambitions of making it big in the corporate world.

I love doing what makes me happy and being at home is what does the trick.

That drop of blood…

I can still feel it on my left thumb though it fell on me some years back…

I cannot remember the exact year but most probably it was the second half of 2012. I had started working from home and would travel only for meetings and press conferences.

I remember very well that when that drop of blood fell on my left thumb I was in the train. I was going to Churchgate to attend one press conference at one of the hotel’s there. I guess it was Intercontinental and the venue was somewhere in the basement – it was GJEPC’s press conference!

So when this drop of blood fell on me I was shocked and felt very dirty. I wiped it off immediately wondering how it could fall on me in the train. I immediately looked at the ceiling of the train but I couldn’t find anything fishy. It was dry. I looked out of the train from the window. The train was moving fast and so nothing could come from outside. I kept looking everywhere and kept wiping my thumb to clean that sticky feeling.

Till date I have not been able to figure out from where that drop of blood fell on me.

But the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it was nothing but Jesus’ blood.

Yes, it has to be Jesus’ blood because it was during that time that I was getting into many ministries. I had completed my two-year Bible course and become a catechist. Then I became an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion. So I am convinced that Jesus wanted to purify me and make me a new person to take on all these responsibilities. And that one tiny drop of blood of Jesus was enough to cleanse me and make me what I am today and to become in the years to come.

This can be the only mystery of that drop of blood because from where could that drop fall on me in the moving train. No matter what the world says, I am fully convinced that it was Jesus’ blood on my left thumb that purified me to make me a better person to serve in his vineyard.