Little Annoyances

Salisbury Cathedral

I'm going to tell you a story that doesn't exactly put me in the best light.  But there is a good reason I want to tell you, so I hope it doesn't alter your opinion of me too much!

One of my biggest pet peeves (along with getting stuck behind a tourist or other slow walker) is feeling that my personal space is invaded.  It's one thing if there's a crowd; then I expect to feel, well, crowded.  But when there's plenty of room on the train platform, and someone is standing so close to me that I can feel him or her jostling my purse, that gets under my skin. 

On Friday evening, I went to hear one of my friends sing in a chamber choir concert. And much to my dismay at the time and my embarrassment now, I was so distracted by a little annoyance that I didn't pay much attention to their main piece, the Magnificat cum Angelis. What was the little annoyance, you ask? The woman sitting next to me was sitting too close.  Anytime I moved my arm, it bumped into hers. If there had been no room in the church, I would have understood. But there were plenty of pews, and what annoyed me the most was that she was sitting so close to me because her bag was on the seat next to her. If she had put the bag on the floor, there would have been a little more breathing room for everyone. So instead of listening to the inspiring Magnificat, I was sitting there thinking selfish, unkind thoughts. I'll even admit that once or twice, I passive aggressively shifted in my seat and gave a pointed look at the bag next to her...I don't think she got my hint.

It's funny how God uses these moments when we're not at our best to teach us something important. While praying this weekend, I picked up a book on St. Therese that I hadn't touched in awhile. Opening it to the next section, I found this anecdote of hers:

Hidden Sacrifices
For a long time my place at meditation was near a Sister who fidgeted incessantly, either with her rosary or with something else. Possibly I alone heard her because of my very sensitive ear, but I cannot tell you to what extent I was tried by the irritating noise. There was a strong temptation to turn round and with one glance silence the offender; yet in my heart I knew I ought to bear with her patiently, for the love of God first of all, and also to avoid causing her pain.  I therefore remained quiet, but the effort cost me so much that sometimes I was bathed in perspiration, and my meditation consisted merely in the prayer of suffering.  Finally, I sought a way of gaining peace, in my inmost heart at least, and so I tried to find pleasure in the disagreeable noise.  Instead of trying not to hear it, I set myself to listen attentively as though it were delightful music, and my meditation--which was not the prayer of quiet--was passed in offering this music to God.

Wow.  Point taken, Lord.  So this week, I've resolved to take a page from St. Therese's book and bear any little annoyances as patiently and lovingly as I can.  Rather than let myself fill with negativity, I'll fill myself with love.  And offering up my suffering, even such small, seemingly insignificant suffering, will turn my annoyance into a prayer.  Will you join me?

Prayer of St. Patrick

An embroidered 'saint cushion' in the chapel at Salisbury Cathedral, which I visited a couple of weekends ago.  (More on that to come eventually!)

I have no idea if these are words that St. Patrick actually wrote or spoke, but I love the message in any case. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of the wind,

Depth of the sea,

Stability of the earth,

Firmness of the rock.

I arise today

Through God's strength to pilot me;

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's hosts to save me

Afar and anear,

Alone or in a multitude.

Christ shield me

Against wounding

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,

Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ on my right, Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,

Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in the eye that sees me,

Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through the mighty strength

Of the Lord of creation.

Spring has sprung!

"Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"...

"It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine..."

Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Used to Boston winters, which last FOR-EV-ER, I assumed that the warmer weather and flowers blooming here in London were a fluke.  The cold weather would come back and freeze every blossom that had dared show its head.  But when everyone around me started talking about spring, I realized that spring actually does come in early March in London...

A Change in Perspective

Last week, I mistakenly thought I had seen everything there was to see in my neighborhood. I like going for long walks on Sunday afternoons (partly because I'm not that into other forms of exercise...), but I've been getting bored of walking up and down the same streets by my apartment, looking at the same houses, admiring the same trees in the same park. Then Monday night, I did something I don't think I've done since moving here: I took a walk after dinner. The sun had set and the street lamps were lit, and suddenly my neighborhood looked like a whole different world.

Christ Church Cathedral at sunset--a magical time--right on the boundary between light and dark (Summer 2012)

The house with the antique car out front was now the house with the flowers in one of its upstairs windows. The house with the pretty garden leading up to its front door was now the house with gorgeous built-in bookshelves and vintage wallpaper. (I promise I wasn't being creepy. I didn't stop and stare in any windows or anything. But many of the houses near me don't draw their curtains, so as I walked past, I did catch quick glimpses through lit windows.)

It was a much-needed lesson in perspective. I had forgotten that when I think I've seen all there is to see, I should look at things in a new light (quite literally in this case!). My evening walk reminded me of a quotation often attributed to Abraham Lincoln:

"We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or we can rejoice because thorn bushes have roses."

Once that sentiment was in mind, I started looking at all the challenges of my week differently.  I could agonize over a difficult decision, or I could be grateful to have choices. I could be frustrated with my class of 12-year-olds who are behaving very poorly at the moment, or I could take it as a teaching challenge. I could be sad that I'm so far away from my family and friends, or I could rejoice in the fact that I live in an age when there is a plethora of cheap, easy ways to keep in touch.

I think there's something good to be found in every situation. Sometimes you just need to change your perspective to see it.