A Four-Pancake Morning

September 7, 2015

            The usual protein drink does not sound good this Monday morning.  Nor does muesli, oatmeal, or toast.  So I mix up the last bit of the Bob’s Red Mill 10-Grain Pancake Mix, which yields four medium-sized pancakes.  Along with my espresso-strength iced coffee and handful of morning medications, it makes a superb breakfast.

            As I down the last bit of my super coffee, I wonder how long it will be before my blood sugar crashes.  I can already feel the fat cells expanding.  In another hour I can take my morning nap.

            Truthfully, the last four days have been lazy ones.  I’ve been motivated to go to the store, babysit, and go to church, but not much else.  Hours slip by with nothing accomplished.  My problem, I believe, is acedia, referred to by the ancient desert monks (and by Kathleen Norris in her book of same title) as “the noontime demon.”

            Except that my acedia is not confined to the noon hour.  It expands to include the entire day.  The only problem with me labeling my utter lack of motivation acedia is that it is not entirely correct because the word refers to the listlessness and restlessness that can creep into the daily discipline of work and prayer.  You know, the routine gets boring.  I don’t work and I don’t pray nearly enough.  Besides, I don’t really have a daily routine other than eventually getting out of bed in the morning and back into bed at night.  Okay, I’m exaggerating.  I do shower, eat meals, and take naps.

            I’m thinking that I’m not the only person who deals with this acedia problem.  It seems directly connected to having too much time on my hands, which stems from being careful to not get too busy, which stems from needing to have plenty of extra space in my days to accommodate the fibromyalgia.  When your body has no get up and go, it’s easy to let hours slip by.  I don’t have a TV, but I do have a Kindle, and in the name of keeping my brain sharp, I waste a lot of time playing games.

            Why can’t I make the hours count by engaging in prayer and Bible study, or cleaning my dirty house, or writing, or practicing my flute? 

            That is an excellent question.  It even has motivating power.  However, before I ponder it more or take action, I am going to apply ice to my cramping back, try the pressure points for nausea, and then take that morning nap.