“When society is made up of men who know no interior solitude, it can no longer be held together by love: and consequently, it is held together by a violent and abusive authority. But when men are violently deprived of the solitude and freedom which are their due, then society in which they live becomes putrid, it festers with servility, resentment, and hate.” – Thomas Merton

I am aware of how stressful and loud and unsetting the world beyond the farm is right now; I have been stepping up my response, which is mostly spiritual.

I am writing about politics sometimes now, and so I need to pay attention to the news to understand what is happening.  Then there is my bike adventure.

I respond in this way: I never argue my political beliefs or values, not do I ever criticize anyone else.

I believe the best way to respond to this daily invasion of space is spiritual – twice-daily meditation, a silent and quiet hour in the afternoon, no news of any kind after dark, silent visits to the donkeys, walks with the dogs.

Then and recently, there is what I call my Solitude Walk in the morning.

No people, no, Maria, no dogs. Just me and my soul in need of silence, balm, and grounding.

The spiritual life is, first of all, a life. It is not simply something to be studied once in a while; it is to be lived insofar as it is possible.

My spiritual life permits me to observe the turmoil and anger outside of my life without taking it into my life. Only a spiritual life can do that.

Merton has observed that those who are not grateful soon begin to complain of everything; the world becomes a dark and dangerous place. There is no greater disaster in the spiritual life than to be immersed in unreality, for life is maintained and nourished in us by our vital relations with the realities outside and above us.

I want to understand the world around me, but I will not become a slave to it. I was a bedwetter long enough when I was a child; I don’t wish to be a bedwetter now.

Life is what I make of it, no more or less.

“If our life is poured out in useless words,” wrote Merton, “we will never hear anything, never become anything, and in the end, because we have said everything before we had anything to say, we shall be left speechless at the moment of our greatest decision.”

Sometimes, I just need to be with me and listen to the beat of my own heart.