It happens almost every Sunday night. I get a little tickle in my stomach thinking about the week ahead. And all I want to do is call my mom and whine, “Do I have to?” It’s about to be Monday.
The crazy thing is I love my work. But there’s something about what I’ve been calling “the infinite abyss of adulthood” that gets me all turned in on myself every time the week starts anew, the day comes up for air, and the next project begins. I wasn’t until I read Kathleen Norris’s The Cloister Walk that I realized there was a word for my spiritual malaise. It’s what the church fathers and mothers referred to as acedia, a sort of listlessness of the spirit. Norris also attributes this feeling of time’s expanse to our ”noonday demons.” The sun is high and a warm meal, glass of wine, and good night’s spoon is far off. The road of perseverance appears long and boring and repetitive under the deadpan heat. Continue reading “That’s Good, Do it Again by Erin Lane”
Feminism and Religion 