This Ignatian Life: The Art of Packing a Camel

I have ridden a camel at an oasis in the desert, but I freely admit I've never had to pack one.  I realize that there is no evidence in the biblical accounts that the magi came by camel, but as Ignatian composition of place doesn't demand a slavish attention to historical detail...I'm free to imagine a camel breathing down my neck.

I learned on the Exercises that there is an art to packing a camel. I learned to ask the questions that the magi must have faced with a long journey ahead, where the weight of what you carry could — quite literally — drain the life from your camels. Where you might have to sit on what you had packed, so that with each passing mile the lumps and edges of your luggage gives you, as well as your camels, galls. Where balance is not a metaphor, but a hard reality.

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Ignatian Life: Easter's shattering realities

Christ is risen, alleluia, alleluia!

"I find myself flinching at the mere thought of wrapping them in paper and cloth and hitting them with a hammer. No matter how gently done, this is not a benign procedure. It is meant to shatter, to destroy. There is no going back, once begun. The plants are still beautiful in their containers, not yet feeling the effects of the confinement. But unless I can steel myself to breaking open the glass, the plants will be forever stunted. Not today, I think, not this week. Perhaps the next?"

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