At both ends of the spectrum
Living in reality, but attending to it in totally opposite ways
In my upcoming novella The Anchorite, the protagonist is an old Benedictine monk who lives as a hermit in a relatively remote part of North Yorkshire.
It is highly unlikely that I will name the monastery that he is from, but those who know the area and the religious communities in it, will know the monastery that I write of.
The hermit has not been in the walls of his monastery since 1958. The novella will show how he eventually returns to it, and his reaction to the many changes that have taken place since he last set foot on the grounds where he used to live.
In one scene, the hermit sits on the top of one his favourite hills and tells the reader a little about the view and why he is drawn to it. He then reels off a little list of parts of creation that point to God. In his understanding of the world, everything points to a Creator.
“There is much to choose from, even after The Fall. Despite all the death and disease and suffering, it is clear that God created the world and the universe to be beautiful.”
A little while after this, the monk is attacked. Someone visits his small hut and vandalises it and his most precious possessions.
The vandal spits profanities and blasphemies in the hermit’s face as he assaults him and damages his property. He has a deep hatred of the monk and what he stands for. The vandal is revulsed at even the concept of God, or at least the God of the Old Testament and the New Testament that the monk stands for.
The hermit cannot turn the other cheek in the face of such loathing and destruction. His anger boils up inside him. But he is too old and weak to fight back.
The next day he asks God for forgiveness and prays for the vandal.
Although I do not go into exact details in the novella, suffice to say that both men live in the same reality but approach it, perceive it, react to it, in completely opposite ways.
They both see what they see, but they interpret existence, or what they believe to be existence, in completely different ways.
Some will say they cannot help how they act or think. Others will say they are exercising their free will.
It is a dichotomy as old as civilisation itself.
Progress report:
The Anchorite is at 4,259 words. So virtually no progress since last time I’m afraid.
The Fragment from the Shroud has had one edit. I hope to soon be on the second one.
Take it easy. And thanks for reading.