Reality...

Our eldest daughter has been home from university for the summer. She watches a lot of television.

I do not watch television, as a rule, and when I do I usually find it intensely irritating after a short time. Our daughter doesn't just watch television. She watches reality television. It makes me shudder.

I do not care much if a person is stuck in a house (with a full quiver, models, or otherwise), on an island, in a kitchen, or trying to lose weight. What is the attraction of having one's every move tracked by a camera team? What is the attraction of watching someone's every move?

As dd watches her "television" on the computer, I am frequently in a position to overhear. Dd cooks supper nearly every night. Her Dell, Pickle, keeps her company.

Listening to these people interact reminds me of rats in a cage that is getting smaller and smaller. Eventually they attack each other. Most of the reality shows I've 'seen' (heard?) have some sort of elimination process involved. These people are competing against each other. Their potential elimination from the competition is just the cage getting smaller.

This is not reality. At least not MY reality. My most frequent contacts are my family. We're a pretty clean living bunch, I think (not that there isn't much room for more virtue!), but I do not want my "moments"...private, inspirational, less-than-proud, paraded for all to see. Not for any money.

I need "dark". God tells us that what we hear in the dark, we must speak in the light (Matt 10:27). To do that, do we not need dark? I am not at all sure that God's "still, small voice" can be heard through the din of so much media.

I've gotten to the point where I like quiet. I don't usually follow the news. It causes me stress, as 98% of what I hear I am incapable of affecting. Sure I can pray about it, and probably should more than I do, but I do not need the details to be able to pray. God already knows all that. i don't need the mental and emotional clutter.

Another note:

As I was walking, alone, tonight (no i-pod or any other such device...although I should have brought my rosary) along the river, it occurred to me that at this time last year, I was confined to a wheelchair. Now, I'm moving on my own, and picking up speed. Several people have called my recovery a miracle. Now, I did have surgery, so the direct source of the healing is no secret, but I still have a powerful sense that God was guiding the process. It is a rare gift to know that there are people who see me as the recipient of a miracle.

I know that along the way, extraordinary steps were taken to get me 'fixed up' in a shorter than usual time. A nurse speaks to a doctor who finally makes the right referral. One specialist attaches a note to the referral to another specialist recommending quick action. And that last specialist, the surgeon, follows the request. And I can walk again. Thank you!

Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.