Searching for Sacred

“At heart, envy boils down to this: everyone else has it easier than I do.   And so they are obviously happier than I am.”   -- James Martin, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Anything.   Envy always seems to be with me.   To paraphrase one of my favorite priests, it is my default sin.   The one that keeps coming back no matter how many times I confess it, how many times I try and avoid it, there it is again rooting its ugly head.   With envy, there is a tendency to maximize my own difficulties and minimize my blessings while at the same time, maximize another’s blessing and minimize their difficulties.   My life is hard.   It is a unique hard.   It is a hard like no one else has. Envy is comparison.   If only I were more outgoing, less chubby, less awkward, more confident . . . blah, blah, blah.   This implies that somehow, how I was made, how I am built, and how I tick is not good enough.   My personality type is an INF...

Every few months I get the “weepies.”    It is that feeling that something is wrong, things are out of whack, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.   My weeps usually last a couple of days and then all returns to normal.   I typically blame it on hormones – PMS, premenopausal junk . . . and it is possible that this is not helping.    And without a uterus, it is a little difficult to know exactly what is happening physiologically with my body.   For the few days of the weeps, I do not talk much, making a PBJ is a chore, and I am completely irritable and impatient with everyone around me.   And every time it comes, I ride it out knowing it will only last a couple of days, and then when the storm clouds pass over, I return to life.   In other words, do not try and understand it; do not try and fix it. This time was different.   One, my mom saw it written across my face.   She usually does and lets me be (smart woman!)  ...