Sunday, April 11, 2021

What To Do When You Have Spiritual Wanderlust

 

I recently went through a 90-day ascetical and spiritual renewal program called Exodus 90.

Exodus 90 is a regimen of daily prayer and ascetical discipline, supported by weekly fraternity meetings and daily check-ins with your "anchor" (a brother within your fraternity).

The idea behind the program is that we strip ourselves of various bad habits (essentially, the passions) that enslave us and keep us from being the men, husbands, and fathers that God created us to be. We do this for 90 days because studies have shown it takes 90 days to uproot old habits and create new ones.

So for 90 days you commit yourself to an hour of daily prayer, and various ascetical disciplines. The disciplines the program is most famous for are cold showers (that's right COLD showers) and no alcohol, but there are many others that, in their own way, prove even more difficult.

Personally the biggest struggles for me were no making non-essential purchases (I love buying books...), and no eating between meals (I love having an evening snack).

At first, following the Exodus 90 "rule of life" wasn't too bad. In fact, it felt quite liberating. However, as time went on, the sheer volume of ascetic disciplines began to weigh on me.

The thought of continuing on in all those disciplines and following that specific rule of life for 90 days was completely overwhelming. I couldn’t help be think, “There’s no way I can do this for 90 days." And yet somehow I made it through. 

Now, I want to be clear, I failed to follow the program perfectly. There were plenty of times that I had to confess to the men in my fraternity that I tripped up. But with their support and encouragement I was always able to pick myself up and renew my effort.

So, apart from the fraternity, what did I do to motivate myself when I felt the full weight of 90 days bearing down upon me?

Without really thinking about it, I took a page right out of the teachings of the Desert Fathers and Mothers.

Temptations in the Desert

I can only imagine that men and women who decide to dedicate themselves to the Lord in the monastic life must often feel the weight of their commitment bearing down upon them.

In fact, I know they feel the same way, because the Desert Fathers talk quite openly about it!

The Paradise of the Holy Fathers relates several stories of a solitaries (hermits) who felt like they could handle that way of life no longer. 

In one case, the hermit decided he’d leave his hermitage and move into town. Perhaps he was even thinking of getting married. After resolving to leave his hermitage, in a last-ditch effort to remain faithful to his calling, he told himself that he would wait until winter. 

When winter arrived, he determined to wait until spring. 

When spring arrived he determined to wait until summer… You get the idea.

There’s a similar story of another hermit who, when tempted to abandon his calling, decided to wait until morning. 

Morning arrived, so he determined to wait until evening.

In both cases, these hermits remained true to their calling despite feeling the weight of the lifetime commitment bearing down heavily upon them.

We've All Been There

Who of us living as married persons, priests, or even monks or nuns living in a monastery haven't felt this similar burden?

At first the newness of your vocation fuels your enthusiasm. But overtime that newness and the resulting initial enthusiasm begin to die down. The responsibilities and ascetic side (yes, even marriage has its unique ascetic disciplines) of your vocation begin to weigh heavily.

You start to start to think, "Am I really going to be able to spend the rest of my life like this?"

This phenomenon is so common that psychologists have actually pinpointed times when these struggles tend to peak - 1 year, 3, years, 7 years, 15 years...

In order to overcome this wanderlust - this temptation to abandon your vocation and the ascetic disciplines involved with it (whether by physically leaving or by mentally "checking out") - focus instead on taking the ascetic life in bite-sized chunks. 

Don’t think of all the years you have left in front of you. Focus instead on just getting through this day or this season, and doing the right thing at this moment.

As I mentioned above, the most difficult struggle for me during Exodus 90 was resisting the temptation to order books.

I love books...

I especially love the feeling of buying a new book. 

But during Exodus 90 I committed to the discipline of not making any non-essential purchases. It sounds weird, but that was really hard for me. I would have days where my predominant thought (logismoi) running through my mind was how much I wanted to buy *insert book title here.* 

Rarely was it the same book from one day to the next.

So what did I do?

I committed myself to making it through this day without buying a book. I tried not to think about tomorrow or the next day. I just had to get through this day (sometimes this hour). 

What I found interesting was that, when I allowed myself to focus on how many days I had left rather than the challenge right in front of me, that’s when I tended to fall. But when I was able to keep myself focused on the here-and-now, I was much more likely to overcome the urge to splurge.

I encourage you today, if you've committed yourself to a rule of life - whether a specific ascetical rule, or simply your vocation - and you're feeling overwhelmed by the commitment, instead of gazing with dread into the future, focus instead on crushing that sense of wanderlust right here and now.

And above all remember, you need God's grace to crush this temptation - particularly the grace He offers us in the Sacraments of the Eucharist and Confession. Take advantage of the grace He offers you in these powerful Sacraments, and not only will He help you overcome this temptation, but He'll help you find true joy and fulfillment in the vocation to which He has called you.