Shame

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir (2004)

  Archimedes lowered himself into a tub and formulated the laws of mass and density. Eureka! Water is the universal solvent! But water also drowns, rivers rise and breach their banks, fields become mud, family photo albums fatten, teacups float from cupboards. Why had I come? The years my father was in prison I could imagine his room—the thick walls, the bars, a slit of blue sky high above his head. Sometimes I imagined a cage, stacked on top of other cages, each with its own man inside. Or a hole in a basement with bars for a ceiling, a screw pacing above, twirling a nightstick. I could place him in a prison, he who had been unplaceable. But that had been ten years earlier, when the letters had started. Ten years of a father built entirely of his own crazy words. When he called I didn’t think of not going. If I didn’t go to him I would always wonder, if not about him then about his room, this room he was now losing, just to picture it, to hold it in my mind. When my father calls me back in he’s half dressed, buttoning a shirt. Pleasure to see you, Nicholas. Aside from the circumstances . I look into his face, try to see myself. I listen briefly as he rants about the new owners, then I go outside and call in Emily and Doug. My father smirks at Emily, never having seen the two of us together, asks about her folks. How are Steady Ray and Clare de Lune? He begins to tell Doug of being forced to listen to the faggots going at it, night and day , but Doug cuts him off. I glance around his room, crammed with old magazines and what appears to be worthless junk. In the newspaper that morning I’d read that computers can now simulate what cannot be seen, the shape of “nothing,” the structure that holds this nothing together—its representation looked like a gaping mouth. Anything you want, kid, I’m serious . I glance at a painting, all spatters and drips. That’s a real Pollock, kid, he was a friend. Worth a fortune now. It’s yours . Half an hour later I give him a few hundred dollars to put his stuff in storage or to find another place, ask only that he not appear at the shelter, that he not fuck up my job. He tells me not to worry. I take the painting, along with a copy of Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London . A few days later my brother will point out that Pollock had misspelled his name when he signed the painting. There was no shotgun.

• From In the Dream House (2019)

  Sick seems more appropriate, but it too tastes bad. It feels too close to disordered, which is a word your oldest and dearest friend, who had become very religious after childhood, used when you came out to her. It was over email but you flinched anyway, and before the end of the next paragraph—which explained that she was sort of relieved you hadn’t said you had a crush on her—you were already crying. Dream House as Barn in Upstate New YorkMany years later, I wrote part of this book in a barn on the property of the late Edna St. Vincent Millay. I didn’t know I was writing the book yet; it would take two more summers to realize it was a book about a house that was not a house and a dream that was no dream at all. But I sketched out scenes and jotted down notes and did a lot of mental excavation staring at the wall of the barn. A few weeks in, while hiking out in the woods, I came upon what looked like a mound of garbage. When I got closer, I realized what it was: a huge pile of broken and discarded bottles of gin and morphine, where Edna’s erstwhile housekeeper had taken the empties and left them. There was something horrifying about the mountain of glass. I had just finished Edna’s biography, wherein I’d learned that weeks after her husband died, she fell to her own death in her house, on the stairs, likely in a haze of intoxication. Was it a terrible accident? Suicide? Everybody has a theory. The biography made me angry. Edna treated her lovers, male and female alike, with no small amount of cruelty. She was talented but arrogant; brilliant but profoundly selfish. And yet, there among the trees, seeing the measure of her pain, the proportions of her problems, I felt a stab of sympathy. It couldn’t have been easy to be married to her, but it couldn’t have been easy to be her, either. One day, a bird slammed into my studio window. I was sitting on a yoga ball and tumbled backward in terror. Almost every residency I’ve had since, I’ve found at least one stunned bird sprawled on the ground outside my workspace. I learned: they never see the glass coming. They only see the reflection of the sky. Dream House as ShipwreckIn New York that winter, when you walk too slowly for her taste, she abandons you at a storage container craft fair in Brooklyn. You stand there with your suitcase and your puffy down coat, and she tells you as she walks away that maybe you should go back to your parents’ house in Allentown if you can’t take the city.

• From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

  Sexual addictions—where do they come from? The answer may surprise you. Studies reveal 60–70 percent of men and 20–30 percent of women struggle with sexual addiction.1 And sexual addiction isn’t about sex—it’s about medicating pain. Sexual addictions often go untreated because of shame. Shame is the great silencer and isolator. Men and women struggling with sexual issues often feel so shameful they continue to struggle alone. They have a personal shame perspective—afraid they would be judged and ostracized if others knew the trap in which they are caught. What we need to understand is sexual addiction often has roots in wounds. Many have experienced family dysfunction or personal trauma, and come from a culture of addictions. Often, there is a history of a binge-purge cycle, sober for a while and then back at it full blast. They typically live in denial about how bad the problem is and believe if they try harder all will be well. In this next chapter, we will be following Trevor, who we discover suffers from sexual confusion and struggles with using porn. Because of relational difficulties with his father, Trevor has never attached to his dad or to a healthy male role model. Trevor’s dad, Keith, chose rules over a relationship with Trevor. He was also avoidant in his attachment style, fearful of being close to another human being. A child is designed to attach to both of his or her parents. Infants need the warmth, snuggling, cuddling, and closeness of a caregiver. As the child develops, it’s so important for the child to identify with their same-sex parent; and when attachment takes place, the parent can be a role model to their child, showing them how to do life as either a male or female. But, if attachment does not take place, or when the child is repulsed by their same-sex parent, the child may be more prone to struggle with sexual and identity issues. Of course, we can never say always or never when it comes to understanding human sexuality. Humans are all unique and I am not attempting to say this is true of all people, but this is Trevor’s story and what was true for him. However, others who struggle with sexual issues might have fond memories of attachment and remember receiving warmth and comfort from their parents. I do not want to be guilty of blaming parents for their children’s sexual choices. Truthfully, research has not uncovered definitive answers as to what causes same-sex attraction. What I am attempting to do is to create a more compassionate understanding for those who do struggle.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  am we=l treated by my husband, I am sure I will recom- pense 3'ou to the utmost of ray power." The apothecary, to comfort her, told her he knew of a marvellous powder, and that if she made her husband take it in his broth or in his roast meat, like due powder, he would regale her in the best possible manner. The poor woman, wishing to see this miracle, asked him what it was, and if she could not have some of it. He told her she had only to take some powder of canthar- ides, of which he had good store. Before they parted she made him prepare this powder, and took as much of it as she needed ; and subsequently she thanked him for it many times ; for her husband, who was strong and vigorous, and who did not take too much of it, found himself none the worse for it, and she all the better. The apothecary's wife, who had overheard the whole conversation, thought to herself that she had no less need of the recipe than his commere. She marked the place where her husband put away the rest of the pow- der, and resolved to use it when an occasion should offer. She had not long to wait. Her husband, feeling himself incommoded with a coldness of stomach, begged her to make him some good broth. She told him that a roast with due powder would do him still more good, and he begged her to make him one forthwith, and to get some cinnamon and some sugar out of the shop. She did so, and did not forget the remainder of the powder which he had given to his eoninih'e, without regarding either weight, or dose, or measure. The hus- band ate the roast, which he found very good, and soon experienced its effect, which he thought to appease with his wife ; but it was impossible, for he felt all on fire, so that he did not know on what side to turn. He told his wife she had poisoned him, and insisted on knowing Seventh dajy.] QUEEN OF NA VARRE. 5 1 5

• From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

  On a side note, some of their stories may shock you. It is shocking to read about the things that have happened to people. My goal isn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but to create an honest, open dialogue so we can normalize the need to get the bad out so we can let good in. Stuffing down the bad stuff has been proven to be harmful to our health, our relationships, our mood, and to our personhood. Permission to tell is a vital part of regaining our voice and healing our stories. Angie had a big breakthrough when she confessed she was having an affair with her daughter’s volleyball coach. She confessed to the group that part of the reason she hated her husband and wanted him to disappear was because she had found someone new. Someone who made her feel special. Someone who understood her. He opened up to her and shared with her how miserable he was in his marriage. How his wife never wanted to have sex with him and what started with some casual flirting and feelings of euphoria eventually grew to meeting in secret locations for providing what he wasn’t getting at home. Little did Angie consider how she was setting herself up for a relationship that was more about taking than loving. When we struggle with codependency, it’s so easy to concentrate our lives on meeting the needs of others, those legitimate and illegitimate needs. People have needs and love is willing to meet those needs, but not at the expense and destruction of a person’s soul. Most of us have to struggle with our tendencies to be codependent to someone. We can wear ourselves out trying to act loving instead of being loved. Love focuses on the relational aspect of being with another, not the “What can I do for you or you do for me?” Don’t misunderstand me here. Love is action. Love is a willingness to serve and make sacrifices for the good of the relationship. Jesus warned us about serving two masters. If pleasing people becomes our goal, we become slaves to that person or people, and people can be harsh task masters. Jesus, when Martha was trying to get him to side with her to make her sister Mary help her serve their guests, clearly sided with Mary and said she had chosen what is good and right. Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet and to soak in His words, His spirit, His character, His way of doing life, His love. It wasn’t about proving she was loveable by doing for others. It wasn’t taking a less than position or adopting a martyr attitude by serving or becoming a slave to another person or group of people. It was about a state of being, living in the presence of Jesus, which brings peace, the peace that never comes from busily doing.

• From In the Dream House (2019)

  Narratives about mental health and lesbians always smack of homophobia. I remember watching Girlfriend in college—a rare Bollywood film about queer women—in which a wrench-wielding, butch lesbian seduces a gorgeous femme, but eventually the femme pulls away and falls in love with a dude and the butch goes ballistic, becoming possessive and violent before dying in a fall from a window. I came of age in a culture where gay marriage went from comic impossibility to foregone conclusion to law of the land. I haven’t been closeted in almost a decade. Even so I am unaccountably haunted by the specter of the lunatic lesbian. I did not want my lover to be dogged by mental illness or a personality disorder or rage issues. I did not want her to act with unflagging irrationality. I didn’t want her to be jealous or cruel. Years later, if I could say anything to her, I’d say, “For fuck’s sake, stop making us look bad.” Dream House as Haunted MansionWhat does it mean for something to be haunted, exactly? You know the formula instinctually: a place is steeped in tragedy. Death, at the very least, but so many terrible things can precede death, and it stands to reason that some of them might accomplish something similar. You spend so much time trembling between the walls of the Dream House, obsessively attuned to the position of her body relative to yours, not sleeping properly, listening for the sound of her footsteps, the way disdain creeps into her voice, staring dead-eyed in disbelief at things you never thought you’d see in your lifetime. What else does it mean? It means that metaphors abound; that space exists in four dimensions; that if you return somewhere often enough it becomes infused with your energy; that the past never leaves us; that there’s always atmosphere to consider;31 that you can wound air as cleanly as you can wound flesh. In this way, the Dream House was a haunted house. You were the sudden, inadvertent occupant of a place where bad things had happened. And then it occurs to you one day, standing in the living room, that you are this house’s ghost:32 you are the one wandering from room to room with no purpose, gaping at the moving boxes that are never unpacked, never certain what you’re supposed to do. After all, you don’t need to die to leave a mark of psychic pain. If anyone is living in the Dream House now, he or she might be seeing the echo of you.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  You may have dozens of great ideas that you never attempt to execute, because that would cause you to confront the reality of your actual skill level. Without being aware of it, you might become ever so slightly passive—you expect other people to understand you, give you what you want, treat you well. Instead of earning their praise, you feel entitled to it. In all of these cases, your low-grade grandiosity will prevent you from learning from your mistakes and developing yourself, because you begin with the assumption that you are already large and great, and it is too difficult to admit otherwise. Your task as a student of human nature is threefold: First, you must understand the phenomenon of grandiosity itself, why it is so embedded in human nature, and why you will find many more grandiose people in the world today than ever before. Second, you need to recognize the signs of grandiosity and know how to manage the people who display them. And third and most important, you must see the signs of the disease in yourself and learn not only how to control your grandiose tendencies but also how to channel this energy into something productive (see “Practical Grandiosity,” on this page , for more on this). According to the renowned psychoanalyst Heinz Kohut (1913– 1981), grandiosity has its roots in the earliest years of our life. In our first months, most of us bonded completely with our mother. We had no sense of a separate identity. She met our every need. We came to believe that the breast that gave us food was actually a part of ourselves. We were omnipotent—all we had to do was feel hungry or feel any need, and the mother was there to meet it, as if we had magical powers to control her. But then, slowly, we had to go through a second phase of life in which we were forced to confront the reality —our mother was a separate being who had other people to attend to. We were not omnipotent but rather weak, quite small, and dependent. This realization was painful and the source of much of our acting out—we had a deep need to assert ourselves, to show we were not so helpless, and to fantasize about powers we did not possess. (Children will often imagine the ability to see through walls, to fly, or to read people’s minds, and that is why they are drawn to stories of superheroes.) As we get older, we may not be physically small anymore, but our sense of insignificance only gets worse. We come to realize we are one person not just in a larger family, school, or city but in an entire globe filled with billions of people. Our lives are relatively short. We have limited skills and brainpower.

• From Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir (2004)

  summer of suits I drag myself back from Morocco, finally, and make my way back to America. Emily’s now seeing someone else, and I have no place to live. I go back to work at the shelter, because I miss it, because I need a job. A newcomer, a woman who works the Cage, tells me she’s leaving her apartment in the North End, and maybe I can move in. Incredibly small but ridiculously cheap—two hundred and fifty dollars a month allows you to lie in bed and contemplate the refrigerator. It’s May, the boat’s on land in Provincetown, and I agree to let Emily fix her up and live on her for the summer. By now Phil’s given up on living on the water, and I decide to spend most of my time in Boston, working. Slowly, over the course of the next few months, warily, Emily and I move back toward each other. The landlord of the North End apartment is an elegant Italian named Luca, and the day he hands me the key, as he’s passing it into my hand, he tells me, slowly and deliberately, And you know…this is the North End…and that means…no blacks . I’m touching the key to my new apartment, and I don’t have any place else to live, but my hand jerks back as if burnt. Well, that’s no good, I say. I know, I know, it’s a terrible thing, he back-pedals, but it’s not me, it’s the neighborhood. I take the key, a devil’s bargain. I’ll be gone within six months. A few days later Luca tells me about some clothes he has in his basement, clothes he’d like to donate to the homeless. Work with the homeless for any length of time and you learn that everyone has a trashbag of old clothes they would like to donate to the cause. Many will call you “noble” for the way you are “sacrificing.” They will thank you, say that they couldn’t do it but are glad you can. Even the mayor will show up, always just before Christmas, and declare that the work you are doing is the hardest and the most important in the city. Luca knows I have a pickup, he wonders if I can go down into his basement with him someday, we can load the clothes together. Sure, I say, but it will take me nearly two years to get back to him. It’s not high on my list, another trashbag full of moldy cast-offs. When he tells me about the clothes he also asks my opinion about the homeless, about the reasons, why there seems to be more and more. This is another conversation I will often have with people, for I am now an expert. They’re all drunks, right? If you give money to panhandlers they’re just going to drink more, right? These people don’t want to live inside, they don’t want to work, this is the life they prefer, right?

• From Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir (2004)

  “The Take,” I call it. My mother arrives one day to the bank she has worked at for the past ten years to find a photograph of my father on an FBI wanted poster. It warns her and all bank tellers to call the police immediately if you see him, or have seen him, or have any information as to his whereabouts. My mother brings this poster home to show my brother what kind of man our father is, but she doesn’t show it to me. I’ve become a fuckup, high every day. It says he’s stolen thousands of dollars. She hasn’t seen a penny. Later we’ll see a shoot-out, a house in Watts where Patty may or may not be. The police bomb it anyway and it burns to the ground on national tv and only the next day do they search the rubble and say she wasn’t there. They find teeth and none of the teeth are hers. Months of silence follow, then it ends quietly. Patty has been hiding out with her two remaining comrades, who, seemingly out of character, jog every morning. Running dogs. The FBI stops them at the end of their workout, when they are the most winded, unable to run any farther. When they batter in the door Patty is in the kitchen, watching television. Walter Cronkite. He hasn’t uttered her name in weeks but he will tonight.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  In the same way too the corporeal cause can be without sin, as when it arises from bodily debility, and hence some individuals suffer seminal loss without sin even in their wakeful hours; or it can come from the abundance of nature: for, just as blood can flow without sin, so also can the semen which is superfluity of the blood, according to the Philosopher (De Gener. Animal. i). But occasionally it is with sin, as when it is due to excess of food or drink. And this also can be either venial or mortal sin; although more frequently the sin is mortal in the case of evil thoughts on account of the proneness to consent, rather than in the case of consumption of food and drink. Hence Gregory, writing to Augustine, Bishop of the English (Regist. xi), says that one ought to refrain from Communion when this arises from evil thoughts, but not when it arises from excess of food or drink, especially if necessity call for Communion. So, then, one must judge from its cause whether such bodily defilement of necessity hinders the receiving of this sacrament. At the same time a sense of decency forbids Communion on two accounts. The first of these is always verified, viz. the bodily defilement, with which, out of reverence for the sacrament, it is unbecoming to approach the altar (and hence those who wish to touch any sacred object, wash their hands): except perchance such uncleanness be perpetual or of long standing, such as leprosy or issue of blood, or anything else of the kind. The other reason is the mental distraction which follows after the aforesaid movements, especially when they take place with unclean imaginings. Now this obstacle, which arises from a sense of decency, can be set aside owing to any necessity, as Gregory says (Regist. xi): “As when perchance either a festival day calls for it, or necessity compels one to exercise the ministry because there is no other priest at hand.” Reply to Objection 1: A person is hindered necessarily, only by mortal sin, from receiving this sacrament: but from a sense of decency one may be hindered through other causes, as stated above.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  sided, emphatic traits in yourself. Assume that the opposite trait lies buried deep within, and from there try to see more signs of this trait in your behavior. Look at your own emotional outbursts and moments of extreme touchiness. Somebody or something has struck a chord. Your sensitivity to a remark or imputation indicates a Shadow quality that is stirring, in the form of a deep insecurity. Bring it into the light. Look deeply at your tendencies to project emotions and bad qualities onto people you know, or even entire groups. For instance, say you really loathe narcissistic types or pushy people. What is happening is that you are probably brushing up against your own narcissistic tendencies and secret desire to be more assertive, in the form of a vehement denial or hatred. We are particularly sensitive to traits and weaknesses in others that we are repressing in ourselves. Look at moments in your youth (late teens, early twenties) in which you acted in a rather insensitive or even cruel manner. When you were younger, you had less control of the Shadow and it came out more naturally, not with the repressed force of later years. Later in his career, the writer Robert Bly (born 1926) began to feel depressed. His writing had become sterile. He started to think more and more about the Shadow side of his character. He was determined to find signs of it and consciously scrutinize it. Bly was the bohemian type of artist, very much active in the counterculture of the 1960s. His artistic roots went back to the Romantic artists of the early nineteenth century, men and women who extolled spontaneity and naturalness. In much of Bly’s own writing, he railed at advertising men and businesspeople—as he saw it, they were so calculating, planning everything to the extreme, afraid of the chaos of life, and quite manipulative. And yet, as he looked inward, Bly could catch glimpses of such calculating, manipulative qualities in himself. He too secretly feared moments of chaos in life, liked to plan things out and control events. He could be quite malicious with people he perceived to be so different, but in fact there was a part of the stockbroker and advertising man within him. Perhaps it was the deeper part of himself. Others told him that they saw him as rather classical in his taste and in his writing (constructing things well), something that bothered him, since he thought the opposite. But as he became increasingly honest with himself, he realized they were right. (People can often see our Shadow better than we can, and it would be wise to elicit their frank opinions on the subject.) Step by step he unearthed the dark qualities within—rigid, overly moralistic, et cetera—and in doing so he felt reconnected with the other half of his psyche. He could be honest with himself and channel the Shadow creatively. His depression lifted, as well as the writer’s block.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  CHRYSOSTOM. He desired to shew the great honour that ought to be paid to parents, and therefore attached both a reward and a penalty. But in this occasion the Lord passes over the reward promised to such as did honour their parents, namely, that they should live long upon the earth, and brings forward the terrible part only, namely, the punishment, that He might strike these dumb and attract others; And he that curseth father and mother, let him die the death; thus He shews that they deserved even death. For if ho who dishonours his parent even in word is worthy of death, much more ye who dishonour him in deed; and ye not only dishonour your parents, but teach others to do so likewise. Ye then who do not deserve even to live, how accuse ye my disciples? But how they transgress the commandment of God is clear when He adds, But ye say, Whoso shall say to his father or his mother, If in a gift, whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me. JEROME. For the Scribes and Pharisees desiring to overturn this foregoing most provident law of God, that they might bring in their impiety under the mask of piety, taught bad sons, that should any desire to devote to God, who is the true parent, those things which ought to be offered to parents, the offering to the Lord should he preferred to the offering them to parents. GLOSS. (ap. Anselm.) In this interpretation the sense will be, What I offer to God will profit both you and myself; and therefore you ought not to take of my goods for your own needs, but to suffer that I offer them to God. JEROME. And thus the parents refusing what they saw thus dedicated to God, hat they might not incur the guilt of sacrilege, perished of want, and so it came to pass that what the children offered for the needs of the temple and the service of God, went to the gain of the Priests. GLOSS. (ap. Anselm.) Or the sense may be, Whosoever, that is, of you young men, shall say, that is, shall either be able to say, or shall say, to his father or mother, O father, the gift that is of me devoted to God, shall it profit thee? as it were an exclamation of surprise; you ought not to take it that you may not incur the guilt of sacrilege. Or, we may read it with this ellipsis, Whosoever shall say to his father, &c. he shall do the commandment of God, or shall fulfil the Law, or shall be worthy of life eternal. JEROME. Or it may briefly have the following sense; Ye compel children to say to their parents, What gift soever I was purposing to offer to God, you take and consume upon your living, and so it profits you; as much as to say, Do not so.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  Third, in detecting any dips in spirit or negativity, he had to be gentle. Scolding would only make people feel ashamed and singled out, which would lead to contagious effects down the road. Better to engage them in talk, to enter their spirit, and to find indirect ways to either elevate their mood or isolate them without making them realize what he was doing. As Shackleton practiced this, he noticed how much better he became at it. In one quick glance in the morning, he could almost anticipate how the men would act during the entire day. Some fellow crew members thought he was psychic. Understand: What makes us develop these empathic powers is necessity. If we feel our survival depends on how well we gauge the moods and minds of others, then we will find the requisite focus and tap into the powers. Normally we do not feel the need for this. We imagine that we understand quite well the people we deal with. Life can be harsh and we have too many other tasks to attend to. We are lazy and prefer to rely upon predigested judgments. But in fact it is a matter of life and death and our success does depend on the development of these skills. We simply are not aware of this because we do not see the connection between problems in our lives and our constant misreading of people’s moods and intentions and the endless missed opportunities that accrue from this. The first step, then, is the most important: to realize you have a remarkable social tool that you are not cultivating. The best way to see this is to try it out. Stop your incessant interior monologue and pay deeper attention to people. Attune yourself to the shifting moods of individuals and the group. Get a read on each person’s particular psychology and what motivates them. Try to take their perspective, enter their world and value system. You will suddenly become aware of an entire world of nonverbal behavior you never knew existed, as if your eyes could now suddenly see ultraviolet light. Once you sense this power, you will feel its importance and awaken to new social possibilities. I do not ask the wounded person how he feels. . . . I myself become the wounded person. —Walt Whitman P 3 See Through People’s Masks The Law of Role-playing eople tend to wear the mask that shows them off in the best possible light—humble, confident, diligent. They say the right things, smile, and seem interested in our ideas. They learn to conceal their insecurities and envy. If we take this appearance for reality, we never really know their true feelings, and on occasion we are blindsided by their sudden resistance, hostility, and manipulative actions. Fortunately, the mask has cracks in it.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Secondly, a man may be called a sinner because he wills to sin and purposes to remain in sin: and on sinners in this sense the sacrament of Baptism should not be conferred. First, indeed, because by Baptism men are incorporated in Christ, according to Gal. 3:27: “As many of you as have been baptized in Christ, have put on Christ.” Now so long as a man wills to sin, he cannot be united to Christ, according to 2 Cor. 6:14: “What participation hath justice with injustice?” Wherefore Augustine says in his book on Penance (Serm. cccli) that “no man who has the use of free-will can begin the new life, except he repent of his former life.” Secondly, because there should be nothing useless in the works of Christ and of the Church. Now that is useless which does not reach the end to which it is ordained; and, on the other hand, no one having the will to sin can, at the same time, be cleansed from sin, which is the purpose of Baptism; for this would be to combine two contradictory things. Thirdly, because there should be no falsehood in the sacramental signs. Now a sign is false if it does not correspond with the thing signified. But the very fact that a man presents himself to be cleansed by Baptism, signifies that he prepares himself for the inward cleansing: while this cannot be the case with one who purposes to remain in sin. Therefore it is manifest that on such a man the sacrament of Baptism is not to be conferred. Reply to Objection 1: The words quoted are to be understood of those sinners whose will is set on renouncing sin. Reply to Objection 2: The physician of souls, i.e. Christ, works in two ways. First, inwardly, by Himself: and thus He prepares man’s will so that it wills good and hates evil. Secondly, He works through ministers, by the outward application of the sacraments: and in this way His work consists in perfecting what was begun outwardly. Therefore the sacrament of Baptism is not to be conferred save on those in whom there appears some sign of their interior conversion: just as neither is bodily medicine given to a sick man, unless he show some sign of life. Reply to Objection 3: Baptism is the sacrament of faith. Now dead faith does not suffice for salvation; nor is it the foundation, but living faith alone, “that worketh by charity” (Gal. 5:6), as Augustine says (De Fide et oper.). Neither, therefore, can the sacrament of Baptism give salvation to a man whose will is set on sinning, and hence expels the form of faith. Moreover, the impression of the baptismal character cannot dispose a man for grace as long as he retains the will to sin; for “God compels no man to be virtuous,” as Damascene says (De Fide Orth. ii).

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Frequent, undisguised, discreet, voluntary, shamefaced, Entire, secret, tearful, not delayed, Courageously accusing, ready to obey. For fidelity, simplicity, and courage are virtues by themselves, and therefore should not be reckoned as conditions of confession. Objection 2: Further, a thing is “pure” when it is not mixed with anything else: and “simplicity,” in like manner, removes composition and admixture. Therefore one or the other is superfluous. Objection 3: Further, no one is bound to confess more than once a sin which he has committed but once. Therefore if a man does not commit a sin again, his penance need not be “frequent.” Objection 4: Further, confession is directed to satisfaction. But satisfaction is sometimes public. Therefore confession should not always be “secret.” Objection 5: Further, that which is not in our power is not required of us. But it is not in our power to shed “tears.” Therefore it is not required of those who confess. On the contrary, We have the authority of the masters who assigned the above. I answer that, Some of the above conditions are essential to confession, and some are requisite for its well-being. Now those things which are essential to confession belong to it either as to an act of virtue, or as to part of a sacrament. If in the first way, it is either by reason of virtue in general, or by reason of the special virtue of which it is the act, or by reason of the act itself. Now there are four conditions of virtue in general, as stated in Ethic. ii, 4. The first is knowledge, in respect of which confession is said to be “discreet,” inasmuch as prudence is required in every act of virtue: and this discretion consists in giving greater weight to greater sins. The second condition is choice, because acts of virtue should be voluntary, and in this respect confession is said to be “voluntary.” The third condition is that the act be done for a particular purpose, viz. the due end, and in this respect confession is said to be “pure,” i.e. with a right intention. The fourth condition is that one should act immovably, and in this respect it is said that confession should be “courageous,” viz. that the truth should not be forsaken through shame. Now confession is an act of the virtue of penance. First of all it takes its origin in the horror which one conceives for the shamefulness of sin, and in this respect confession should be “full of shame,” so as not to be a boastful account of one’s sins, by reason of some worldly vanity accompanying it. Then it goes on to deplore the sin committed, and in this respect it is said to be “tearful.” Thirdly, it culminates in self-abjection, and in this respect it should be “humble,” so that one confesses one’s misery and weakness.

• From Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir (2004)

  Mirrors are screwed to the walls along the benches the guests sit on while they undress, only these mirrors are made of stainless steel, not glass—glass could break, become a weapon. Someone might punch the face looking the wrong way back at him. The screws that attach the metal to the wall cause slight indentations, the indentations cause distortions, creating a funhouse effect. Your head in this mirror, if held at a certain level, becomes massive. Your chin vanishes. Move slightly and you can have superman arms, or a belly that takes over your body. You can open your mouth and it keeps on opening, becomes your whole head. Some of the drunk guys, some of the psych guys, you see them, halfway naked on a bench, staring at their reflections, open-mouthed— When did I become a gargoyle? How do they navigate an hour, I wonder, let alone a city, a lifetime? One of my first nights upstairs a man needs a new set of clothes—maybe he’d pissed himself, maybe he had bugs, maybe it was just time. As I head for the room where the donated clothing is sorted and stored, I stop, whisper to Gabriel, a salt-of-the-earth Midwesterner who approaches the job with a mixture of gravitas and levity that I aspire to, How do I know what size he wears? Gabriel just looks at me and smiles— You ask him . Just off the changing room are the showers, a tiled room with a dozen showerheads, where the men pass through and hopefully linger, if only for a few moments. I move between the men undressing and the showers, stand between the two rooms, subtly looking over their bodies, checking for rashes or discolorations or anything weird, which I will report to the clinic. I will check the condition of their clothes and offer replacements. If a man is too drunk I will send him back downstairs to sleep it off in the lobby rather than risk a scene in the dorms. But I won’t do any of this at first, at first I won’t know what I am doing, beyond watching them wash, beyond steering them upstairs without any hassles. At first I will count how many times the button must be pressed for a man to take a shower. Some drunks seem to find the water an annoyance, some psych guys speak directly into the spigot, arguing with the pressure, pleading. Most hit the button five or six times, enough for a quick lather and rinse. Sometimes a drunk will go over to the other side, turn psychotic. Sometimes the psych guys will start drinking, some call it “self-medicating” but it looks like clinging to an anvil in the middle of the sea. Like everywhere, some are ashamed of their bodies, turn their faces to the tiles, hold their hands over their privates as they walk. Some glance at others’ bodies, some glance longer.

• From On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

  He studies her, to see what language can do—but she doesn’t flinch. Only halfway turns her head. The cigarette, its ember bead, rises to her lips, then flutters near her chin. “I don’t want you to be my mom anymore.” His voice strangely deeper, more full. “You hear me? You’re a monster—” And with that her head is lopped off its shoulders. No, she’s bending over, examining something between her feet. The cigarette hangs in the air. He reaches for it. The burn he expects doesn’t come. Instead, his hand crawls. Opening his palm, he discovers the firefly’s severed torso, the green blood darkening on his skin. He looks up—it’s just him and the radio standing beside a flat basketball in the middle of summer. The dogs now silent. And full. “Ma,” he says to no one, his eyes filling, “I didn’t mean it.” “Ma!” he calls out, taking a few clipped steps. He drops the radio, it falls mouth-down in the dirt, and turns toward the house. “Ma!” He runs back inside, his hand still wet with a single-use life, looking for her. Then I told you the truth. It was a greyish Sunday. All morning the sky had threatened downpour. The kind of day, I had hoped, where the bond between two people might be decided on easily—the weather being so bleak we would see each other, you and I, with relief, a familiar face made more luminous than we had remembered in the backdrop of dreary light. Inside the bright Dunkin’ Donuts, two cups of black coffee steamed between us. You stared out the window. Rain slashed down the road as the cars came back from church service on Main St. “People seem to like those SUV things these days.” You noted the caravan of cars at the drive-thru. “Everybody wants to sit higher and higher.” Your fingers thrummed the table. “You want sugar, Ma?” I asked. “What about cream, or actually, maybe a doughnut? Oh no, you like the croissants—” “Say what you have to say, Little Dog.” Your tone subdued, watery. The steam from the cup gave your face a shifting expression. “I don’t like girls.” I didn’t want to use the Vietnamese word for it—pê-đê—from the French pédé, short for pedophile. Before the French occupation, our Vietnamese did not have a name for queer bodies—because they were seen, like all bodies, fleshed and of one source—and I didn’t want to introduce this part of me using the epithet for criminals. You blinked a few times. “You don’t like girls,” you repeated, nodding absently. I could see the words moving through you, pressing you into your chair. “Then what do you like? You’re seventeen. You don’t like anything. You don’t know anything,” you said, scratching the table. “Boys,” I said, controlling my voice. But the word felt dead in my mouth. The chair creaked as you leaned forward.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  The key to making the struggle between the two sides more even and to perhaps tip the scales toward the higher is to cultivate what we shall call the inner authority . It serves as the voice, the conscience of our higher self. This voice is already there; we hear it at times, but it is weak. We need to increase the frequency with which we hear it and its volume. Think of this voice as dictating a code of behavior, and every day we must make ourselves listen to it. It tells us the following. You have a responsibility to contribute to the culture and times you live in . Right now, you are living off the fruits of millions of people in the past who have made your life incomparably easier through their struggles and inventions. You have benefited from an education that embodies the wisdom of thousands of years of experience. It is so easy to take this all for granted, to imagine that it all just came about naturally and that you are entitled to have all of these powers. That is the view of spoiled children, and you must see any signs of such an attitude within you as shameful. This world needs constant improvement and renewal. You are here not merely to gratify your impulses and consume what others have made but to make and contribute as well, to serve a higher purpose. To serve this higher purpose, you must cultivate what is unique about you. Stop listening so much to the words and opinions of others, telling you who you are and what you should like and dislike. Judge things and people for yourself. Question what you think and why you feel a certain way. Know yourself thoroughly—your innate tastes and inclinations, the fields that naturally attract you. Work every day on improving those skills that mesh with your unique spirit and purpose. Add to the needed diversity of culture by creating something that reflects your uniqueness. Embrace what makes you different. Not following this course is the real reason you feel depressed at times. Moments of depression are a call to listen again to your inner authority. In a world full of endless distractions, you must focus and prioritize. Certain activities are a waste of time. Certain people of a low nature will drag you down, and you must avoid them. Keep your eye on your long- and short-term goals, and remain concentrated and alert. Allow yourself the luxury of exploring and wandering creatively, but always with an underlying purpose. You must adhere to the highest standards in your work. You strive for excellence, to make something that will resonate with the public and last. To fall short of this is to disappoint people and to let down your audience, and that makes you feel ashamed. To maintain such standards, you must develop self-discipline and the proper work habits. You must pay great attention to the details in your work and

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  mediocre sides to our character and skills. Snobs are especially sensitive about this, greatly insecure about their origins and possible mediocrity. Their way of dealing with this is to distract and deceive with appearances (as opposed to real originality in their work), surrounding themselves with the extraordinary and with special knowledge. Underneath it all is the real person waiting to come out— rather ordinary and not so very different. In any case, those who are truly original and different do not need to make a great show of it. In fact, they are often embarrassed by being so different and learn to appear more humble. (As an example of this, see the story of Abraham Lincoln in the section below.) Be extra wary of those who go out of their way to make a show of their difference. The Extreme Entrepreneur: At first glance these types seem to possess very positive qualities, especially for work. They maintain very high standards and pay exceptional attention to detail. They are willing to do much of the work themselves. If mixed with talent, this often leads to success early on in life. But underneath the façade the seeds of failure are taking root. This first appears in their inability to listen to others. They cannot take advice. They need no one. In fact, they mistrust others who do not have their same high standards. With success they are forced to take on more and more responsibility. If they were truly self-reliant, they would know the importance of delegating on a lower level to maintain control on the higher level, but something else is stirring within—the Shadow. Soon the situation becomes chaotic. Others must come in and take over the business. Their health and finances are ruined and they become completely dependent on doctors or outside financiers. They go from complete control to total dependence on others. (Think of the pop star Michael Jackson near the end of his life.) Often their outward show of self-reliance disguises a hidden desire to have others take care of them, to regress to the dependency of childhood. They can never admit this to themselves or show any signs of such weakness, but unconsciously they are drawn to creating enough chaos that they break down and are forced into some form of dependency. There are signs beforehand: recurring health issues, the sudden microneeds to be pampered by people in their daily lives. But the big sign comes as they lose control and fail to take steps to halt this. It is best to not get too entangled with such types later on in their careers, as they have a tendency to bring about much collateral damage. The Integrated Human In the course of our lives we inevitably meet people who appear to be especially comfortable with themselves. They display certain traits that help give this impression: they are able to laugh at themselves; they can admit to certain shortcomings in their

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  And she had clearly said “a- broad” instead of “abroad,” in a hesitant tone, as if she were ashamed of herself. And her walk indicated a woman who felt trapped in complicated relationships. In subsequent sessions she brought in her lover, who was also married. Erickson asked to see the wife of the lover, and when she came, she sat in the exact same locked position, with the foot under the ankle. “So you’re having an affair,” he told her. “Yes, did my husband tell you?” “No, I got it from your body language. Now I know why your husband suffers from chronic headaches.” Soon he was treating them all and helping them out of their locked and painful positions. Over the years, his observation powers extended to elements of nonverbal communication that were nearly imperceptible. He could determine people’s states of mind by their breathing patterns, and by mirroring these patterns himself he could lead the patient into a hypnotic trance and create a feeling of deep rapport. He could read subliminal and subvocal speech as people would mouth a word or name in a barely visible manner. This was how fortune-tellers, psychics, and some magicians would make a living. He could tell when his secretary was menstruating by the heaviness of her typing. He could guess the career backgrounds of people by the quality of their hands, the heaviness of their step, the way they tilted their heads, and their vocal inflections. To patients and friends it seemed as if Erickson possessed psychic powers, but they were simply unaware of how long and hard he had studied this, gaining mastery of the second language. • • • Interpretation: For Milton Erickson, his sudden paralysis opened his eyes to not only a different form of communication but also a completely different way of relating to people. When he listened to his sisters and picked up new information from their faces and voices, he not only registered this with his senses but also felt himself experiencing some of what was going on in their minds. He had to imagine why they said yes but really meant no, and in doing so he had to momentarily feel some of their contrary desires. He had to see the tension in their necks and register it physically as tension within himself to understand why they were suddenly uncomfortable in his presence.