A few years ago I read this book by Kathleen Norris called Acedia and Me.
Once upon a time there were 8 Deadly Sins.
No, no, no. You say. There weren’t 8, there are 7.
No. Number 8 got kicked out because no one cared about it and 8? Well. It was Acedia. So it’s not surprising it just faded away from sight.
Still exists though. Horribly, terribly: still existent.
So what is Acedia? It is something that later was turned into slothfulness, or laziness. But that’s not really what Acedia is. Because laziness is a word that doesn’t really mean anything anymore, because we use it all of the time to mean so many different things. And no one really knows what slothfulness is, because they start thinking of that animal that hangs from a tree all day.
These are aspects, there are parts.
Wikipedia (yes, yes, I know – but they have a good definition so shush) says:
“Acedia describes a state of listlessness or torpor, of not caring or not being concerned with one’s position or condition in the world. It can lead to a state of being unable to perform one’s duties in life”
It is similar to apathy.
It is a lack, an inability to be all that you could be. There is all of this potential: and it just…. Nothing. Doesn’t do anything. And why should it? Those with Acedia sitting in their bones are prone to depression, suicide.
It’s not a psychological thing. It’s not a physical thing.
It’s spiritual. Yes, yes. I know some of you “modern” people won’t like that. But the spiritual world exists. It’s not my fault science takes so long to learn things.
Acedia has been connected with the idea of being a demon. Andrew Solomon has a book (I own, but haven’t read yet) where he calls it the Noonday Demon. It doesn’t attack you in the night. It seeps into you at all hours. Stops you from being productive. Stops you from being able to take care of yourself spiritually. Stops you from being able to help the world. It just stops you. And not in the good: “Stop and pay attention to the world around you” kind of way (see Job 37:14).
And I’m not saying Acedia is an actual being that has form that goes skulking around gnawing at your bone marrow. I mean. Maybe that’s true, but that’s not what I’m saying.
Acedia is a concept. Concepts are weird. Truly. Think about the concept chair. How does that concept exist? Where did it come from? How can we match up different chairs but know that they are all chairs? Is there such a thing as “chairness” like Plato/Socrates put forth? I don’t know. What I do know, or think I know, is that:
Concepts are strangely powerful.
Concepts have belief attached to them. And belief, my friend, does weird things. It does things to reality.
Acedia is a concept, yes. But it’s become more than that. It’s thicker. It takes part in Reality in a very solid way.
And it is like a disease. It roots into you. Like kudzu. You think you’ve pulled it up and gotten rid of it, but really, really know. It’s root system is widespread. It’s growth rate is intense.
It doesn’t go away. It doesn’t stop. It eats you away.
Until you are listless. Until you are apethetic. Until you just don’t care. Until you float around life just kind of maybe existing, but not actually participating.
It’s not comfortable. Because there’s that “I need to survive” part of your brain that is freaking out. That knows this is not okay. That wants you to not suffocate. So you feel awful. And you feel like you should be better. And you want to be better. But you can’t. Because you just. Don’t. Care.
It is easy to get lost there. It is a labyrinth that grabs your mind and your soul and tugs you deep down the rabbit hole and does not want you to wake up.
I spend a lot of time with Acedia. He (not actually gendered, but for some reason I imagine it as a he) sits inside my bones and gnaws at my liver. He presses at the nerves in my wrists. He takes away my appetite. He slithers through my synapses and stops everything. He pokes open holes so that other Issues can come plopping in like mud or poop or something gross and unsanitary.
How do you combat a Deadly Sin?
Because it would be easy to blame it. It would be easy to say, well, it’s not really my fault. It’s this thing called Acedia. I didn’t invite it in. I shouldn’t have to deal with it. It’s not my responsibility.
Which is a vaguely Vain, self-absorbed thing to say. Not surprising. That’s one of those mud/poop things Acedia let in.
Monks have suggested praying, or meditating. People are full of all sorts of ideas. And maybe some of them work. And probably most of them won’t. Because it’s not that simple.
I believe that everyone is born being connected to a different Deadly Sin. Some people are more apt to be led by Greed than others. Some people are more apt to be following around Acedia. I think it just happens. And I don’t think it’s something we’re supposed to get rid of.
In Thomas Moore’s book Care of the Soul he has this astonishing (you can’t hear my sarcasm, sory) idea that we shouldn’t fight against our faults, but work with them. In Colette Baron-Reid’s book The Map, she talks about how our faults are like goblins inside of us. And we’re not supposed to kill the goblin, because that’s killing ourselves. We’re supposed to shush it, and quiet it down, and put it to sleep. Let it feel loved. It’s this bizarre idea of actually feeling compassion and sympathy.
I was reading part of 100 Philosophers by Peter J. King today, and there was a quote by K’ung Fu-Zi (Westernized as Confucius). He was asked by a king to, in just one word, say what was the one rule to be adopted in order to rule well. And what did K’ung Fu-Zi say? Sympathy (see p. 16 of said book).That is the one word. In order to have peace and not chaos, care and not war: we need Sympathy.
Will Sympathy take Acedia? Stop it from growing kudzu-style? I have no idea. I think it’s a process. I think it’s not easy. I think that I won’t know until I am dead, whether or not I ever learned how to put my demons to bed.
naomiruthwrites 