If I Ever Found Myself Sinking into Depression

 

Cistercian Abbey of Follina (Tv, Italy)

My take on Marcello Veneziani's heartfelt oration in defense of Vittorio Sgarbi—now ravaged by depression—in the hope that he may rediscover his will to live and passion for all that made him famous. Click here for an Italian version of this post.

Marcello Veneziani has gifted us with a heartfelt oration in defense of Vittorio Sgarbi—a moving and intelligent tribute to the great art critic, now ravaged by depression—in the hope that he may rediscover his will to live and passion for all that made him famous. An exhortation that will likely linger in the minds of Marcello’s readers, as well as Sgarbi’s admirers, tailored so precisely to its subject that it holds no universal value. Because Sgarbi is truly one of a kind—an Oscar Wilde-like figure, a Po Valley Dorian Gray, both carnal and spiritual, a hedonist yet open to the sacred all at once.

Yet beyond the merits of Veneziani’s article and the truths so vividly evoked, I found myself reflecting—in a way that mirrors my own inner world. In short, I wondered what I would need to hear from a friend, ideally one as inspired as Veneziani, if it were me falling into depression. After all, I’m around the same age, with my own share of aches and pains. By the grace of God, though, I’m not depressed.

Hermitage of Camaldoli (Ar, Italy)

Well, the answer comes to me easily: I’d want to hear a heartfelt plea for silence. The silence I’ve known and revered since my youth—ever since I was fortunate enough to cross the threshold of a Benedictine, Cistercian, or Trappist monastery, or a Camaldolese hermitage, and savor their stillness, broken only by Gregorian chant and the measured, monotonous footsteps of monks pacing the cloisters. And those scents, those stones, those Romanesque columns, the well at the center, the chime of a bell calling the faithful to the Liturgy of the Hours before dawn or at twilight.

   Cistercian monks

I’ve told myself a thousand times that, by some miracle, there’s a silent monastery within me, enclosed within the walls of my body and soul. And inside it, there’s profound peace—even if only for a moment, before being overtaken by a loud, overwhelming wave of reality. But only temporarily, because sooner or later, that inner hermitage inevitably resurfaces and restores the silence. And in that absence of noise, somehow, everything around me regains meaning, becoming something worth caring about again. A Camaldolese monk once gave me a definition of that mystery: a silence inhabited by God.

Yes, I believe that if I were to plunge into depression, the only exhortation with any real chance of reaching me would be an invitation to let myself be enveloped by a silence inhabited by God.

 

A Man's Best Friend

“ The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only be may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death. ”


~ George Graham Vest (1830-1904), United States Senator from Missouri from 1879 to 1903. Closing arguments from the trial in which damages were sought for the killing of a dog named Old Drum on Oct 18, 1869 [Thanks: Sandra Kennedy Schimmelpfennig]

Just a Simple Reminder

Happy New Year Everybody!

Hand of Hope: ten years later

Samuel Armas is a child who had the singular privilege of gaining worldwide notoriety before being born, on December 2, 1999. In fact he was shown in a famous photo taken on August 19 of the same year by Michael Clancy during a very delicate surgical procedure aimed to fix Samuel’s spina bifida lesion. In that picture he seemed to grasp his surgeon’s hand from a hole in his mother’s uterus. As a result of the operation, Samuel was blessed to be born healthy. Now he is nine years-old, and is a good swimmer who enjoys competing—last weekend he came first in a 25-yard backstroke event!

As Fox News reports, he now says the photo—which has been celebrated as the “Hand of Hope”—likely gave countless “babies their right to live” and forced many others to debate their beliefs on abortion. It’s something he’s very grateful for :

‘When I see that picture, the first thing I think of is how special and lucky I am to have God use me that way. I feel very thankful that I was in that picture. […] It’s very important to me, a lot of babies would’ve lost their lives if that didn’t happen.’

As for Michael Clancy, who was a freelancer for USA Today when he took the photo, he now works as a motivational speaker at pro-life events. Prior to the picture, he was pro-choice.

‘And that’s what I’m going to do, keep telling this story. It can change people’s hearts. What started off as an assignment turned into a responsibility to keep telling the story behind it.’

This seems a very good idea. Keep up the good work, Michael!
(Via Gateway Pundit)

Airline passengers: In whose hands?

The crash of US Airways 1549 into the Hudson River in New York City has inspired a former professional military pilot an interesting post. Airline passengers normally don’t spend much time thinking about who are sitting in the front two seats of the airplane, but they should ...