The Rhythm of Life

A few years ago I read Matthew Kelly's The Rhythm of Life. Some would describe it as a self-help book, though I like to think of it as a guide to healthy life skills. The line I remember most is one he repeats in his other written works and speaking engagements: Your life changes when your habits change. Show me your habits, and I'll tell you what kind of person you are.

The structure of seminary life teaches me habits, daily rituals of spending my time in ways that reflect particular priorities. In habit, rhythm of life develops. Days flow, weeks flow, months flow, years flow, and all the sudden, a new life beckons with ordination, new habits will need to be cultivated, new responsibilities understood, new rhythms established. I'm not that far, but I can see the progression. My rhythm of life at seminary includes many routines.

My rhythm includes waking to the bells at 6:30 a.m. Our Abbey bell tower fills the hilltop at that early hour and again for Mass and evening prayer with five-minute intervals of booming overtones. At present, when I wake the skyline isn't illuminated, the sun not quite risen, though night is faded into the predawn haze. I make my bed, clean my face, apply deodorant, slip into the clerical collar, and head to breakfast.

My rhythm includes Morning Prayer from the Daily Office at 7:30 a.m. with the entire seminary community (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday) or my diocesan brothers (Tuesday and Thursday). Each day Mass is celebrated at 8 a.m., with traditional English in St. Joseph Chapel on Monday, Thursday, and Friday; English with the monks and organ music in the Abbey Church on Tuesday; and Spanish on Wednesday.

My rhythm includes three philosophy classes on Monday and Wednesday; classes all day (9 a.m. to noon, and 1 p.m. to 4 p.m.) on Tuesday; only one Thursday and two Friday classes; and a trip to the Klackamas County Juvenile Center in Oregon City on Thursday afternoon for a pastoral assignment working with youth that have yet to get into serious trouble but need a little extra guidance to help them practice good decision-making skills.

My rhythm includes soccer in the gym at 4 p.m. on weekdays. I'd prefer to play on the field, except that our field is alternately a jungle of overgrowth and a path of irregular ruts, which means odd bounces of the ball, potential for ankle injuries, and lack of tempo in our play. The gym is adequate as a soccer venue, though not ideal, with its six-by-five-foot goals, sweat-inducing humidity, bad-habit-inducing walls, and quick-transition-inducing tight spaces.

My rhythm includes studying (and occasionally napping) in the afternoons, opening the books again at night, and learning how to stay alert and inquisitive flipping through so many pages of material. I've walked the hill while reading, gone to various study areas, sat on the benches outside -- whatever it takes to ingest the philosophical jargon and memorize Latin declinations and conjugations.

My rhythm includes Night Prayer at 5:30 p.m. with the seminary community, followed by a rosary some nights, followed by dinner. Communal prayer is a large part of Benedictine spiritual life, and the Benedictine monks color seminary life at every turn.

My rhythm includes a deep breath on Friday afternoons. I can dress down in jeans and a T-shirt, watch a movie, do some laundry, go into the city, or be off on my own. Friday nights I avoid studies entirely, letting my mind decompress the stresses of the week and letting my body rest. Sabbath begins.

My rhythm includes Saturdays of my own choosing. A hike here, some homework, Liturgy of the Hours and Mass (daily obligations at all times), maybe sports, a movie or TV.

My rhythm includes Sunday Mass in clerical garb, squeezing the maximum amount of homework into the day, aligning my schedule for the week, and starting the cycle again with Monday once the morning comes.

My rhythm includes a bedtime routine starting around 10 o'clock. Check Facebook, check sports scores, floss and brush my teeth, go to the bathroom, pull the covers and pillows into place, read until my eyelids become heavy, flick off the lamp, and (hopefully) fall into a deep, restful sleep until the bells ring again.

My rhythm isn't perfect. I remarked to another seminarian yesterday that it seems no two weeks are the same. They aren't. And they shouldn't be. The rhythm of life isn't about sameness. Rather, we human beings cycle and flow, our lives weaving patterns of regularity that give us purpose and familiarity. Going to a new place demands that the rhythm be rediscovered. That is the process in which I find myself.

Matthew Kelly's book asks penetrating questions. What is your rhythm of life? What are your habits? Do they reflect the life you want to lead?

I cannot answer the questions fully, but then, we never really can because we are always in some sort of transition. I trust God is taking this rhythm and teaching me something from it. Lately I've reflected on this blog about the lesson of letting go, of resting, reflecting, praying, and seeking. I'm easing into it, ever gradually.

What is God teaching you today?