Josef Pieper and Coffee

The fog spread over the red brick streets like butter. There is an aura of mystery and profound silence greeting the morning. A swallow chimes its song. A small omen to the days beginning.

The air is crisp. The pages ruddy against my hands shifted as I pressed open the pages of my book.The coffee I’m sipping is steaming hot and the warmth against my hands is comforting.
Steaming Hot Guatemalan Coffee

The book that changed my life. The book that redeemed the way I thought about my conscious and saved my wayward thinking about Christianity.

Faith, Hope, Love by Josef Pieper is a riveting theological book that sparks all kinds of curiosity in the Christian mind. We, as Christians are all striving for the ultimate perfection of Heaven. We’re visitors to this life living as we have been called to live out our vocations, our callings. Being a visitor, viatoris, means “to be on the way”. The status viatoris is, then, the condition or state of being on the way.

To be a viator, therefore, is the state of making progress toward eternal happiness. This strikes a profound knock-on what seems the directionless doors of our society. We all strive for direction but it’s just as easy to get lost in the shuffle buried in passion, work, relationships, education, etc.

The way of man leads to death. The antonym of status viatoris is status comprenensoris which describes one that has comprehended, encompassed, arrived, is no longer a viator but a comprehensor. This word was borrowed from St. Paul’s epistles: “Brethren, I do not consider that I have laid hold of [the goal] already” (Phil 3:13)

The state of being on the way is not to be understood in a primary and literal sense as a designation of place. It refers rather to the innermost structure of created nature. It is the inherent “not yet” of the finite being.

So, therefore, the innermost structure would be how we think and what we do. At least that’s how I interpret it. Not a physical state of being but a look at the insides of who we are and where we’re going. It’s quite intense to think about, emphatically perplexing and overwhelming.

Now that the dust has settled from my life. I am able to look around and reflect on where I am and where I want to go. How I can strive for the perfection of heaven in my everyday. How I can help others on their status viatoris.

Where am I on my status viatoris? What am I called to do on my pilgrimage?

We, as Christians are all on a faithful pilgrimage trying to avoid sin and reach Heaven.

Bubbles on my Latte and Pink Polish

My pastel pink nails clink against my coffee mug as I tap out the melody coming over the radio. I boldly face all the controversy and problems that lay ahead one word at a time.

The letters fall across my keyboard like a scrabble board game.

I look down at my notebook that has a quote by Benjamin Franklin. “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” I really like this quote and try to live a bold life.

Yesterday, was the Assumption of Our Lady, one of my favorite feast days. When the mother of God wails in pain as she gives birth to a Son that will rule the nations. But meanwhile, there’s a red 12-headed dragon, ready to swallow the baby. Quite a

So I take this to mean, in my life, that there are certain things that I want greatly but also come with great sacrifices. Including my hope to go back to college. As I sip my coffee I think about the possibilities. I think about my words, written and spoken.

Dreams often have a way of blotting up your life. Like a loaded calligraphy pen, pressed too hard against the paper. Making a line but blurring in a hundred off spurts: directions. That’s what it seems like at least. Bizarre and Beautiful as long as you can see the beauty in simple things.

Today is Saint Stephen of Hungary’s feast day. St. Stephen led many battles and was married to King Henry II’s sister, Gisella of Ungarn. He founded monasteries and dioceses. He patron saint against the death of children and of stone cutters.

So with dapples of Catholicism and big dreams,received_626271504545193.jpeg I step boldly into my day.

 

God Bless my readers walk with courage and strength!

Magnificient27

The Pressing Solitude of Decisions

A decision pressed closely against the glass

Reverberates a prism of thought

Of connection.

Of dissonance.

A decision of solitude.

A decision of birth or denial.

A decision pressed closely against the glass

Strains its ugly ear to find you.

Strains into your deepest thoughts.

Listening, pressing close.

Making a crowd or closing in solitude.

A decision,

A decision.

Some say there’s choice.

I say there’s a decision.

Shakespeare said, “Life’s a play and we’re all but actors.”

A decision pressed closely against the glass. 

 

Here the truth lies bound up in thought.

A decision made.

A decision wrought.

Holding Tight

A letter slides from my desk. Containing painfully sad thoughts. Drawn up with an ink stamp insignia.

When you hold tight to this insignia, this name of known love.

Grasp it with all your life.

Sometimes it responds and sometimes it just belies.

Belies the time it was crafted.

Belies the scribes hand.

As a woman of love

I hold tight to that insignia.

Hoping, wishing,

It to return.

Will it see past all my heartache

To rekindle and burn?

I wish for those moments when we didn’t say a word.

The insignia.

We fought.

We loved.

The letters twisting to and fro.

Now it’s all I want

Now it’s all I’ve know.

How to press that insignia bright and curling to and fro.

When you hold tight to this insignia, this name you know and love.

Grasp it with all your life.

Going through turmoil and strife.

The insignia is your future.

Carefully wrought.

Carefully wrought and made, you wait.

Holding tight and wishing for it’s return.