February 20: Old Dog, Project Memoir, Learnt a Lesson

When he agrees to go with the Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge makes this little speech:

"Spirit," said Scrooge submissively, "conduct me where you will.  I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now.  To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it."

Scrooge is the ultimate example of being able to teach an old dog new tricks.  Of course, he has to be scared shitless in order for the lesson to sink in, but he does learn.  That's all that matters.

I'm almost as bad as Scrooge when it comes to accepting change/new things.  It has been one of my most frequent subjects since I started this blog:  change sucks, change is bad, change is a gift from Satan, change is about as comfortable as a rectal exam.  Take your pick. 

I like sameness.  I cherish sameness.  Sameness is a warm shower.  Sameness is Godiva chocolate.  Sameness is God's way of giving you a hug.  If you can't tell, I'm a big fan of sameness.

That being said, I know that many people, including several therapists I've seen, view this attachment to habit as possibly unhealthy.  I've heard the term pathological a couple of times.  Long time disciples of Saint Marty know, however, that every Lent I try to do something that breaks down the walls of my little kingdom of comfort.  A couple years ago, I decided to pray for people who had/have hurt me in some way.  It was an exercise in forgiveness, and it was a bitch.  I grew as a person, let go of some long-held pain.  I changed.  Last Lent, I decided to write a "happy" poem every day, from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday.  That also stretched me as a poet and person.  I tend to be a little on the morose/dark side in my disposition and writing.  Last Lent, I learned that happiness really is a choice.  Even the darkest of times have rays of light.  Last year, I wrote a book of "happy" poems, and I changed.

Just like Scrooge, I have "learnt a lesson" from the Ghosts of Lent Past.  So, where is the Ghost of Lent Present going to lead me this year?  I've been kicking around a few ideas.  Last year, I've invited my disciples to volunteer suggestions, and someone suggested that I give up sarcasm for Lent.  This person pointed out that the word "sarcasm" means "to cut, to rend (flesh)."  While I agree that sarcasm can be harmful when directed toward other people, most of the sarcasm I employ is directed toward myself or Republicans.  Therefore, I will not be giving up sarcasm any time soon (especially during an election year). 

But I have come up with an idea.

Saint Sebastian doesn't look too unhappy

I first started this blog a couple of years ago to focus on the feast days of Catholic saints.  As a child, I was always drawn to these holy women and men who seemed so happy in the most painful of circumstances (torture and terminal illness, that sort of thing).  I wanted that kind of peace in my life.  Looking at hagiography through the ages, in literature and art, I thought I could do something interesting with the saints and the sinners of the ages.  And, by communing with the saints, I could also learn something about the big struggles of my life.  Mental illness.  Sexual addiction.  Family dysfunction.  Suicide.  Spiritual abandonment.  Out of all this mess, my blog, Saint Marty, was born.

This Ash Wednesday, I think the Ghost of Lent Present is leading me back to the roots of this little blog endeavor.  I'm thinking about finally putting all the raw ingredients of my original reflections of the saints into book form.  It will be a memoir about my personal struggles with all of the crap I just mentioned.  I'll tackle bipolar disease, sexual obsession, marital anguish, and spiritual loss.  I'll look through the lens of the saints' lives.  For Lent, I will work on chapters of this memoir, which I'll call, for lack of a better title, Saint Marty.  Each Sunday, I'll post a new chapter, and, hopefully, I'll learn something about myself and my life and God.

That's my idea for this Lent.  I could call it something catchier, like Project Memoir.  Either title would work for me.  Drop me a comment and let me know what you think of this year's Lenten challenge.

If Scrooge can learn a lesson from the ghosts of his life, so can Saint Marty.