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MiTHology (4.0)

  • The infinity of pi

    March 10th, 2026

    *TW – pregnancy loss*

    At first I felt a lot of guilt. What if it was something I did?, what was wrong with my body?, etc. I got over that in time; I no longer feel like it was my fault. It just happens. 1 in 4 pregnancies, in fact.

    But now, five years and eight months on, I still have guilt, just of a different kind. Two different kinds, really:

    I’m no longer sad about it on the day-to-day. So I feel guilty for not feeling sadder. And also, I feel guilty for feeling sad at all: for grieving the baby that I lost – because if that baby had survived, I wouldn’t have my living daughter.

    Three long, agonizing months after the miscarriage, three months of grieving inconsolably and waiting impatiently, I finally became pregnant again, this time with a baby that stuck. That “rainbow baby” went on to be born in June: three months after what would have been the lost baby’s due date.

    March 14, 2021 was their due date, in fact (pi day baby). So if they’d lived, they’d be turning five right about now. – But as it is, I have my bean, my beautiful, funny, mischievous 4.5 year old bean who will turn five in June, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.

    There’s no possible universe in which they both exist.

    So like how do I do this? I can’t be sad that pi died, because that implies wishing that pi had lived, which implies wishing that bean had never existed. Which I do not and could never.

    But – do those implications really necessarily follow? It seems so to me, logically… but maybe not all things are subject to this kind of logic. Things can be both bad and good. It can be hard to see things that way, especially tragedies; but this whole miscarriage conundrum really shows me how true it is: our little labels of “good” and “bad,” which we are so quick to slap onto our perceptions of events and occurrences – the stories we make up to make sense of things – are really so inadequate, so futile. Maybe in the grand scheme they’re actually even kinda meaningless.

    The tragedy of a thing doesn’t make the joy that it made space for any less joyful. Nor does the joy really alleviate the sadness. They don’t cancel each other out. They coexist. Both are true at once. It’s weird. Human brains aren’t really capable of seeing things from God’s perspective, but situations like this kind of give us a hint, I think. In the mind of God, there are none of our human limitations. Both can exist there, both siblings side by side, equally, eternally alive.

  • (rant) You’re not exempt from common courtesy

    March 9th, 2026

    How’re ya feeling, fellow moms? This rant is for you. I’ve noticed a trend in the online pregnancy world recently of moms complaining about being asked, while visibly pregnant: “how are you feeling?”

    And I’m here to tell those moms: really?! Come on now. I know we’re hormonal and tired, and sometimes we genuinely cannot control our emotional outbursts, — I get it. But that’s no excuse to throw basic courtesy and rationality to the winds. Let’s get over ourselves, shall we, and try to be decent humans.

    Women are complaining that they’re tired of being asked this question, over and over and over, by complete strangers even, because isn’t it obvious that they’re not feeling great?!, and it isn’t anyone’s business anyway! Such a lame, tired question! And why are total strangers asking me how I’m feeling?! Just leave me alone!

    Now, if you read this blog, you know I’m all for being left alone. I’m hardly a fan of random unsolicited comments from strangers, and I also can’t stand it when people treat pregnant moms like they’re some exhibit in a zoo. As an ILI with AVPD and an ED that makes me hypersensitive about my body image, I’m not big on small talk, being greeted by strangers in public, or being perceived in general. So please keep in mind that this rant is not coming from some shameless, tactless, chatty social butterfly who loves discussing personal details with strangers. I’m actually intensely private and very reserved about conversation.

    Nor am I ignorant of the struggles of being pregnant. I’ve been pregnant five times and given birth four, one of which was a complicated pregnancy that resulted in an emergent c-section and a NICU stay. So I get it. Pregnancy is not all sunshiney small-talk material.

    But pregnancy is also really, really cool. It’s possibly one of the coolest things, if not the coolest thing, about the human species. When people see a pregnant lady, it elicits a reaction. That’s just natural.

    When people ask you “how are you feeling?”, it’s not really about how you’re feeling. They’re not your doctor. Knowing how you’re feeling physically in that moment is not that important to them. What they really mean with this question is: “wow! I see that you are pregnant. That is cool! I am acknowledging how cool this is. Would you like to discuss it?” — I’m hardly socially savvy, but I feel like it’s pretty obvious that this is the motive behind the question.

    It’s just common sense. It’s common courtesy.

    It’s not an invasion of privacy. Since when does “how are you” actually mean “tell me how you are doing”? Everyone knows that it’s just a simple greeting. As the saying goes: Don’t talk about your indigestion, “how are you”‘s a greeting, not a question!

    A person who’s asking you how you’re feeling is not asking you to reveal that you are constipated, nauseated, leaking, hormonal, gassy, or any of that gross stuff. Guess what! Being asked does not obligate you to divulge that information! You can simply say “alright,” or “not great,” or “tired,” or whatever simple reply you want! You don’t have to be gross, but you also don’t have to lie. A simple “not great” is all you need. It’s polite and honest without being gross. You don’t need to be rude.

    Because sometimes this question is meant very sincerely. Sometimes the asker of this question (especially if it is a woman, or a friend/family member) is trying to offer you a space to vent and complain a bit, if you want to. Yes, it’s obvious that you’re not feeling great; your belly is the size of a house; they can see that, they’re not dumb. What they are really saying is, “I see that you’re not feeling great! I’m sure it’s exhausting being out and about trying to accomplish your tasks while feeling this way. I’m happy to offer a listening ear if you’d like to be real about it for a moment.” It’s a simple kindness. You don’t have to engage at length if you’re not in the mood, but don’t be pissy and get mad at them.

    Sometimes they are trying to start a conversation (again, usually this is if it’s a woman). Women who’ve been pregnant before typically tend to be interested in talking about pregnancy. So maybe they’re hoping that you’ll respond with “actually, I feel like shit, I puked three time this morning,” so that they can then respond with “oh I get it, I had HG during both of my pregnancies, it was rough!” or something like that. It’s just human nature to want to find common experiences in conversation. Again, not saying that you have to have a conversation if you don’t feel like it. But you should recognize the question for what it is, and return kindness with kindness.

    I totally get not wanting invasive questions. When I was forty weeks with my first, a customer at work asked me if I was dilated yet. Um, excuse me? Who are you and why are you asking about my cervix? At that point I agree with you, that’s a weird and uncomfortable thing to be asked. But “how are you feeling” is as neutral, lightweight, generic, and open-ended as can be. If that question offends you, then your social sensibilities need some adjustment.

    I truly just don’t understand why any mom would be offended that someone cares enough to ask how she’s feeling. To offer a simple expression of benevolent interest. The person who asks “how are you feeling” is not demanding intimate details. They’re simply acknowledging, politely, harmlessly, that you are in an extraordinary state. Why is that so bad?

    Maybe this is a Gen-Z thing. I know gen-Zs, who probably constitute the majority of the worldwide pregnant population currently, are notorious for hating common courtesy and returning every simple nicety with a dead-eyed glare. So maybe that’s what this is about. As a millennial woman who was brought up to always be polite and kind to a fault, I can’t relate.

    Regardless of generation though, this just seems to me like a no-brainer. If “how’re you feeling” offends you, you may as well be offended by “hi” and “nice weather we’re having,” too. What a waste of energy. I think I’m pretty thin-skinned, but dang! Getting offended by “how are you feeling” is next-level ridiculous.

    And here’s the really annoying thing! by complaining about it online for anyone to read, you’re making people afraid to say anything to a pregnant lady at all! You’re making us all look insufferably oversensitive. People love to accuse women of doing nothing but bitch and moan about everything, and when you go online and whine about simply being asked “how are you feeling,” you’re not helping us beat those allegations.

    I for one like to be asked how I’m feeling while pregnant. Why? Because, as I explained, it’s a simple acknowledgement that I am pregnant and that is cool. That’s all it is. By responding succinctly and politely, what you’re really saying is: “yes, I am indeed pregnant, thank you for acknowledging how cool that is.” That’s all.

    As someone who spent many years longing to be pregnant, but had to wait until I was 29, I am grateful when someone acknowledges the reality of a pregnancy. Yes, it is cool, isn’t it? I don’t love being looked at, though, and don’t love small-talky conversations, so I’ll offer some canned response like “fine, thanks” even if it’s not true. I’ll also smile, to show that I am grateful (not saying that you should necessarily do that, though, unless you are actually happy; in 2026, we don’t tell women to smile!). Even I, a painfully awkward person with diagnosed AVPD, am capable of this. I’m trying to show you how easy it is to practice basic courtesy.

    We all have different baggage. Maybe you didn’t want to be pregnant. Maybe you wanted to hide your pregnancy for whatever reason. Fair enough. But if you are a sane person, you have to admit that you, not the asker of this completely benign question, are the one acting weird, because of your baggage. It’s okay to be weird, I’m not saying it’s not — if you’re seriously triggered by an innocuous question, I am sorry, you must have a lot going on. But it’s still not okay to be rude. And it’s not okay to blame others when the issue is your own.

    In conclusion: coming from an admittedly oversensitive person, “how are you feeling” is not, in any way, a rude or stupid question. From one mom to another: let’s chill out. Let’s get over ourselves. Let’s put on our big girl pants and practice common courtesy, even when we’re not in the mood. We’re not exempt.

  • “There always has to be a part of the day where I’m screaming,”

    March 7th, 2026

    was my four-year-old’s straight-faced, matter-of-fact reply this afternoon when I begged her to explain to me why, why, why she was still whining and angry and tantruming even after all of her requests had been fulfilled (a bandaid for a tiny boo-boo that wasn’t even bleeding, quesadillas made with cheddar only (because last time i had the audacity to make them with a mixture of cheddar and mozzarella, in an attempt to use up the giant bag of mozzarella shreds in our cheese drawer) (she ate 1/4 of these btw), and her cup of water brought to her on the couch. Why was she still mad? Sometimes, when they’re in this mood and I’m overstimulated, I’ll start loudly singing “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” to lighten the mood a bit (it really helps, you should try it!), but today, I just pleaded with her to explain to me why. As an ILI in socionics I have creative Te which means I want actions to serve some purpose — why?, what for?, what is this accomplishing??! I can’t deal with pointlessness — and also vulnerable Fe, which means I struggle with loud and histrionic displays of emotion. “Why are you mad?!” is probably a dumb question to ask a whining four-year-old. I’m aware of this. But sometimes it slips out. Being an ILI mom of littles has its unique challenges.

    But now that I’ve been informed that, apparently, my four-year-old simply has this intentional, regularly-scheduled Scream Time written into her little daily agenda, I guess I can understand it a little better. “There always has to be a part of the day where I’m screaming.” I guess it serves a purpose for her. She’s a clever bean; maybe she’s on to something. Maybe we should all schedule some daily scream time. Maybe that’d be good for us. As someone with vulnerable Fe, though, I think I’ll stick to just rambling on this stupid little blog. This right here is my scream time.

  • Baking Championship Next Gen Season One Final: Mith Reacts

    March 4th, 2026

    CAUTION: SPOILERS for this episode of BCNG, and for GBBO Series 12!

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    This show… it pleasantly surprised me. I am actually slightly sad to see it end.

    As thrilled as I am for Abigail and Kenneth – I adore them, and their cake sounded like the most delicious one of the three: the sunset-orange décor was beautiful, and their animation effect was the most successful – I am also sad for the other two teams.

    I really felt like Leia and Kiera deserved the win, for being so incredibly technically skilled this whole season long. As Leia pointed out, they weren’t in the bottom two once. So many of the things they created this season were adult-tier baking championship stuff. And their final cake was so extra, with the interactive element of the Dubai-chocolate-covered strawberries hiding under the “sun”-shaped chocolate shell! That cake just looked like it deserved to win! The only downside to it, I guess, was that the pistachio layer was too thick, and I guess that made for a less-pleasant eating experience, which is fair.

    A part of me just also wonders if the creators didn’t want to award the big prize to Leia and Kiera because it would have been too predictable. Way too easy. I’ve seen them do this on baking shows before. Sometimes, there’s a competitor who’s so insanely good, who so obviously deserves to win, that the show gives it to someone else just to keep it interesting. (See: Juergen in Series 12 of GBBO.)

    I haven’t really had a favorite, per se, not since my favs went home in episode one; but in this episode, I really found myself starting to root for Genesis and Akbar. Because of the discussions of what they were going to do with the prize money. Genesis and Akbar wanted to share it with all their siblings, and also start a business. Both of the other teams were planning to save and/or invest it, which, wow, that is incredibly wise and mature of them, way to go kids!, I wish I’d been so smart when I was your age! But I also would have loved to see the money go to a family who seems to need it a little more, in the here and now. Abigail and Kenneth live on three thousand acres (!), and Leia already has a baking business, so I don’t get the impression that they’re exactly hurting for money, lol!

    And Duff actually said of Genesis and Akbar at one point: “I don’t think anybody in here can make a cake as well as those two” – which is so true, because their flavors have been consistently the best! Also, I think it was pretty clear from their interactions throughout the season that Kardea also favored Genesis and Akbar. Maybe she’ll be able to pull some strings behind the scenes and help get Genesis’s business going, haha. I hope so.

    But honestly, I woulda been a bit sad no matter who had won and who had lost. Abigail and Kenneth have been awesome this whole season, so much fun to watch, and I’m thrilled that a couple of farm kids from the midwest won the big prize. This episode, Duff commented on how Kenneth has really shone and how it’s really because of him that the team’s done so well… but let’s not neglect to give Abigail the praise that she deserves! She is an incredible person! She is tough as nails! I’m so impressed by her character. A hard worker, confident, strong, bold, just completely herself. What an absolute boss. And yeah, watching Kenneth make snow angels in the confetti was delightful.

    Overall, I thought the finale was satisfying. I liked how each team’s cake ended up kinda representing that team: Genesis and Akbar did that incredible upside-down sweet potato pie crunch cake, hearkening back to their highly-acclaimed sweet potato pie from week one. Leia and Kiera, true to form, went with the bougie, trendy Dubai chocolate theme, even matching the décor to the flavor with that splattered chocolate design. And Abigail and Kenneth of course used a tried-and-true, all-American chocolate cake recipe and a “heart of the land” theme to represent themselves.

    What kind of cake would you make to represent yourself? I’d probably do a peanut butter cake to represent my family, since my kids and I all basically live off of peanut butter. Maybe with some chocolate in there somewhere and a layer of strawberry filling. For the décor, I would have liked to use flowers like Genesis and Akbar did (loved the little stems they added!), though I’d make mine blue, because we all know blue flowers are my fav.

    Stats for this week:

    Superlatives from the judges: 0. Season Total: 6

    Kid who most deserved a hug: Genesis. I hope she still gets to start her business.

    Kid who most deserved a high five: Abigail, for her mathematical precision lining up those fondant hearts!

    The dessert that I would most have liked to eat: Abigail and Kenneth’s chocolate cake with blackberry filling and hazelnuts; easily the most delicious flavor combo out of all of these.

    Stats for the whole season:

    Total Wins: Maci & Emmett (2), Leia & Kiera (2), Abgail & Kenneth (2, counting the big win), Jovie & Lenore (1), Genesis & Akbar (1)

    Superlatives This Season: Leia and Kiera 2; Harper & Holland 1; Maci & Emmett 2; whole group 1

    Total hugs: Liam (1), Genesis (3), Abgigail (1), Melody (1), Kenneth (1), Maci (1), Kiera (1)

    Total high fives: Holland (1), Cameron (1), Genesis (2), Kenneth (1), Maci (1), Emmett (1), Kiera (1), Abigail (1)

    (…it starts to become clear that maybe Genesis was my fav all along, haha

    Who made the desserts that Mith most wanted to eat: Harper & Holland (2), Abigail & Kenneth (2), Genesis & Akbar (2), Jovie & Lenore (1), Leia & Kiera (1), Maci & Emmett (1).

    See you next week for Ultimate Baking Championship!

  • (rant) If you do this, you’re part of the problem

    March 3rd, 2026

    This post, like so many others, was meant to be a comment on someone else’s Instagram post, but ended up here instead because I just really hate Instagram comment sections, and hate to post there, and besides there’s not enough room for a full rant there anyway. So if you don’t care about social media, you can move right along. I’m just heated and have to get this off my chest, and what else is this stupid blog for if not getting dumb shit off my chest.

    What happened is, this Instagrammer that I’m a fan of posted yet another hilarious reel the other day: in it, he’s making fun of those people who love to tell you, with visible pleasure, how they “haven’t eaten anything today,” “I’m so lightheaded,” “I’ve just been so busy,” etc. etc., and it’s painfully, cringily obvious that they’re just begging for you to be amazed by how skinny they are and how little they care about food. Wow! Should we call Bella Hadid?! is among this Instagrammer’s hilariously sarcastic responses to this person, whom we’ve all known at some point.

    After clicking “like” and “save”, as I always do on these reels of his, because it’s always been a major pet peeve of mine when people do this and I love how he calls it out, I sauntered on over to the comments, and what did I find there but a bunch of butthurt whining and self-pity.

    If you’re butthurt by this joke (which probably means that you’re the person he’s making fun of in this video), then you are part of the problem.

    “But I’m actually really struggling with an ED, and you’re making me feel like I can’t reach out for help for fear of being judged! 🥺”

    One: “lol I haven’t eaten anything today” to a random coworker — who may or may not be struggling with an ED themselves, you don’t know — does not equal “reaching out for help,” and you know it. You’re just being selfish; you’d rather get a little bit of attention than consider someone else’s feelings/triggers; you really think you’re that important? If you really want to “reach out for help,” then why are you acting cutesy with some random coworker who has their own shit going on and can’t really do anything to help you anyway? What, you want them to drop what they’re doing and offer to spoon-feed you a yogurt cup? Do you want them to help you wipe your butt after you go potty too? No fr. If you need help with an eating issue, you have the internet; you can find some actual help.

    Two: I’ve known plenty of people with real, serious EDs, and none of them were ever the type to whine to randos about how they “haven’t eaten anything today!”. On the contrary, they keep this information to themselves. They are secretive about it. They don’t want to call attention to it. They’re not likely to volunteer information about what they have or haven’t eaten. They are ashamed. That’s what real EDs look like.

    I’ve also known plenty of people who do this — “omygosh, I haven’t eaten anything today, I keep forgetting!” — and what do you know: none of those people had EDs. Not one of them. This is exclusively something said by people who do not have EDs, but who kind of glamorize EDs and in a sick way wish they had one. They’re just so eager for people to be concerned about them.

    “Well how do you know those people didn’t have EDs, Mith?! Maybe they just mask their symptoms and keep it to themselves.” When you have an ED, you have symptoms. Symptoms that are visible to anyone who knows what to notice. I’m not necessarily talking about weight changes. I’m well aware that someone can be suffering and not be underweight. (They might even be overweight. I once knew someone whose anorexia had over time morphed into binge eating disorder, and she had become quite heavy; and I daresay she was actually suffering more than anyone else in that support group.) It’s a certain hypersensitivity around food. The people who love to loudly complain about how little they’ve eaten today are, in my experience, the same people who will e.g. go get McDonalds or Starbucks on a whim with their friends, are generally relaxed or even lazy in their approach to nourishing themselves, and happily enjoy food in all kinds of social situations. Zero neuroses.

    “Well don’t assume, Mith! Maybe they’re just faking it!” Um, so, they’re so good at masking their symptoms that they have no symptoms whatsoever? An eating disorder is just that, an eating disorder: it involves the way you relate to food. If your relationship to food is virtually unaffected, then you don’t have one, sorry. At this point, the label “ED” has perhaps become a bit too inclusive, like the “autism spectrum” diagnosis. It means so many things now that it means nothing anymore — and flaunting that label when you’re basically a normie with a few little quirks, kind of does an injustice to those people who are really seriously afflicted.

    If you think that noisily LOLing about how little you’ve eaten today to random people in social settings is “reaching out for help,” then you are lying to yourself.

    In all seriousness, I’m sorry you are having a hard time with food. I know some people actually do struggle to eat enough, even if they don’t have a classic ED. Issues with food are not limited to folks with EDs. Like one of my friends suffers from chronic hypophagia due to underlying health issues, and genuinely struggles to keep her weight up, and I feel for her. But she also doesn’t go around loudly complaining to everyone she meets about “oh look at poor little me, I’m just too busy to eat!” No, she is able to talk about it openly but also deals with it in a mature way. It’s possible to deal with such conditions without announcing it loudly to the whole world and begging for attention.

    Because did you ever think that by loudly complaining you may actually be triggering someone in your vicinity who is actually trying to recover from a real ED? This is why this Instagrammer is making fun of you. You’re being self-centered. And you’re glamorizing diet culture by flaunting your failure to take care of yourself like it’s a blue ribbon.

    “No I’m not! I literally said it was bad that I haven’t eaten today” — nope, we heard your tone loud and clear. If you really thought it was bad, if you really knew the first thing about EDs, you’d keep your mouth shut about it, or at least you wouldn’t joke about it in such a cavalier way.

    So spare us the pity party. If you need help, get help. But stop lying to yourself. If you’re butthurt by this joke then you’re part of what’s wrong with the world.

  • Hoping mechanisms: how to persist in light of the fewness of the saved

    March 2nd, 2026

    Well, this is it: this is THE Question That Keeps Me Up At Night. After this one, I may as well just shut this whole column down. It’s the question to literally end all questions. How many of us will actually make it to Heaven?

    In case you’re new here, I’m a Catholic — certainly not an exemplary one though. I’ve been Catholic going on twelve years, and about a year and a half ago I became Traditionalist.

    The fewness of the saved is something I never heard about before becoming Trad. It’s not really talked about in the modern Church. You can see why they don’t want to talk about it. It’s a scary thought, the scariest thought that there is. Human language cannot accurately describe how scary of a thought it is. I don’t even like to talk about it — in fact, as I write this, I have to keep pausing to write other things to keep my focus divided, because I simply can’t get too immersed in this topic. So it’s probably gonna take a while to finish. Which is why I’m only just now getting around to writing this post, even though it’s my #1 Question That Keeps Me Up At Night, and I’ve been writing these stupid little QTKMUANs for over a year now.

    So why now, you ask? Why am I writing about this now? For the simple reason that YouTube randomly brought it up with me again. I.e., the channel Sensus Fidelium, which I subscribe to and you should too, just posted a sermon on this topic within the last day or so. So it popped up on my feed, and all it took was me seeing the title on my screen for that horrible sinking feeling to come over me once again. Threatening to pull me under.

    Luckily, I think I’ve figured out how to cope.

    The first time though, it really dealt me a blow. The first time I learned about the fewness of the saved was around the time that I became Trad. I’d heard that this was something Trads believed in, so I looked it up. And I found, lo and behold, a sermon on YouTube.

    I can’t find the exact video again, but there are a ton of similar ones on YouTube (topic: fewness of the saved, sermon by St. Leonard of Port Maurice; listen at your own risk). The one that I watched, it literally opened with “beware, do not listen to the following if you’re already really worried about hell” — so, I shoulda just turned it off then and there, but I was curious. And then, after listening, for like two and a half days, I lost the ability to really function. I just kinda sat there staring into space. No point weeping. No point doing anything.

    Because here’s the tl;dr: we all already know that few are saved — the narrow gate, and all — but apparently, it’s way fewer than you even thought! According to some saints, less than one percent of practicing Catholics will make it to Heaven. Way less. (Not to mention 100% of all non-Catholics, which in this scenario just goes without saying.) This sermon cited saints’ visions of like a hundred thousand souls all going before the Judgment Seat, and out of all these, only five even make it into purgatory. All the rest are damned. This information may not be an approved dogma of the Church, but it was taught by canonized saints and Doctors of the Church, and it’s certainly not disapproved.

    Hearing this, I was like: well, F. Because let’s face it. I’m far from one of the best Catholics I know. I ran the math: my hometown has a population of 79,000. If only five in 100,000 even have a shot at salvation, then that means maybe only three people in my whole city will be saved. But wait, I thought, my heartbeat starting to race. I have a husband and four kids. And I can easily name many people in my city who are holier than me and my family. I know way more than three people in my area who are sincere and devout and say their rosary every day.

    It felt hopeless. It felt very convincing and very hopeless. If my chances are that slim, I thought, then why even bother? At this point I may as well give up. Just quit trying to be better, just eat drink and be merry while I still can, because after this nothing but suffering for all eternity awaits me. I.e.: it led me to despair.

    But wait. Isn’t despairing of God’s mercy a sin against the First Commandment? I wrote about this a bit in a recent post. Hope is a virtue. We need to have hope. So maybe watching this video even though I knew it might lead me to despair was actually me failing to avoid a near occasion of sin. Maybe I should stop dwelling on it and go to confession. Maybe I should abandon this post.

    But… is it true though? Most members of my religious community seem to think so. Extra ecclesiam nulla salus — yes, I do believe that: outside of the Church, there is no salvation. I accepted that a long time ago.

    However I also believe (and keep in mind here, I am not an expert nor a theologian, and these opinions are my own) that this doesn’t necessarily mean that no non-Catholics ever go to Heaven. All salvation comes through the Catholic Church; maybe that means that, sometimes, through the prayers and sacrifices of faithful Catholics, even some non-Catholics have a chance. And obviously if they are in Heaven they are Catholic now. I don’t know; this is just what I like to think.

    Because I obviously believe that God continues to purify our souls after death. Our journey does not just abruptly end when we die. Knowing that to be true, then wouldn’t it make sense for Purgatory to be a very crowded place? I can’t help but feel like that must be where most of us end up after we die. I’d personally feel much more satisfied, and find it much more believable, if it were phrased to me this way: that, out of 100,000 practicing Catholics, only five walk straight into Heaven, and the other 999,995 have at least a decent shot at getting into Purgatory. That seems fair to me.

    But maybe that’s just wishful thinking. It’s not about what Mith thinks is fair, after all. I’m not the judge.

    And of course, we don’t want to presume God’s mercy. That’s a sin as well. “Oh, it’s okay, I don’t have to work on myself now, I’ll just do some extra time in Purgatory for it lol” — no, we mustn’t think like this. If we don’t do our best, then sure, we do deserve hell. Are most of us doing our best? — who’s to really say? We might have convinced ourselves that we are doing our best — but we’re not the judge. God knows us and our motivations and intentions better than we do.

    So I really can’t “disprove” the extreme fewness of the saved, and I’m not here to do that, however badly I wish I could. I can’t argue against it, and I won’t do that, because whenever I see folks online doing that, it just strikes me as desperate, pitiful attempts to cope. Stamping their little feet going “no! it’s not fair!”, like toddlers. Oh believe me, I get it. I understand needing to cope, because this knowledge is literally impossible to live with. But burying our heads in the sand is probably not the best way to do that.

    “But I just don’t believe it, Mith. I just don’t feel that it’s true, that most people burn in hell. That just doesn’t line up with my perception of a loving God.” Are you really gonna gamble your eternal soul on what you “feel like”? Do you really trust your own little perceptions that much? We’re so small. We’re all products of our time and environment, and this concept of a warm-and-fuzzy, lovey-dovey God who just wants you to be a good person, is a pretty recent trend. I’m not willing to risk it all for a trend. God’s perspective is very different from ours. We tend to think He sees things our way. Reading the Old Testament is a real eye opener in that regard.

    I can’t argue with Saint Leonard of Port Maurice or any of the great saints who professed the fewness of the saved (there were many, even St. Thomas Aquinas himself). So, what can I do?

    How do we cope??

    I could complain about it — although that’s probably sinful, to resent God’s justice.

    I guess the only thing I can do, is the very thing I was just talking about last week: hope.

    I can hope that more than 5/100,000 go to heaven. I can hope that it’s much more than that. And that the non-Catholics that I love have a chance. To get a bit more crazy and extreme with it, I can even go so far as to hope that my sorry little pathetic self has a chance! Hope, radical hope, is a virtue, after all.

    But hoping doesn’t mean ignoring the strong likelihood that only extremely few really are saved.

    What I’ve figured out for myself is, you have to master the art of living with this information in your peripheral, but not looking squarely at it, at least not for too long. You have to do your absolute best to live as if it is true, but hope against hope that it’s not.

    And, you have to be devoted to the Blessed Mother. I’ve heard of personal accounts from people who had near-death experiences, telling how they came before the Judgment Seat and just knew that they deserved hell — that, in light of God’s unfathomable goodness, it was only fair, really; they didn’t even argue. But who should come and intercede on their behalf but our beautiful, gentle Mother. She always has mercy, and Jesus loves her so much that He will do what she asks of Him. She can save even the most hardened sinners. And never was it known that anyone who fled to her protection was left unaided!

    I was reading a book recently in which the author reminded us that, each time we pray the rosary, we ask Mary to pray for us at the hour of our death 53 times. If we pray it daily, that’s 19,345 times a year. I’m 36; let’s say I live another 30 years. If I don’t miss a day, that’s 580,350 times — not counting all the rosaries I’ve already prayed up to this day! Surely my loving Mother cannot ignore that, right? Isn’t that some slightly reassuring math?

    But… don’t so many Catholics say their rosary every day? Pretty much all of us? How do we reconcile that with how few of us allegedly go to heaven?

    Maybe we think we’re praying with sincerity, but like I said we don’t really know ourselves as well as God does, do we?

    I guess the last coping mechanism I’ve landed on and that I’ll share with you here is, we must keep in mind that God is good. His will is perfectly good. If He lets us go to hell, then that is for the best. If I end up in hell, I guess I’ll at least know, while I’m burning, that it’s because God is good and all is as it should be. That all is right with the world. I don’t guess that would console me at all, since there is no consolation in hell. But, it’s something. It allows me to persist.

    And of course, the goodness of God also inspires hope.

    So in conclusion, hope not only serves as an antidote to despair, but also allows us to cheerfully go about our business here on earth, doing our little jobs and raising our little families and posting on our stupid little blogs, even while knowing that all but like 1/20,000 of us are most likely going to burn in hell for all eternity.

    So, let’s hope, readers! If you’re reading this, I’ve said a Hail Mary for you; maybe you can say one for me as well.

  • Aint much of a housewife tbh

    March 1st, 2026

    , but I do have one perhaps-slightly-redeeming quirk, when it comes to housekeeping.

    Thing is, I’m neither tidy nor organized nor much of a clean freak, and left to my own devices I’ll neglect a mess until it can be neglected no more. I don’t have adhd (that i know of) but i do have a plethora of “doom boxes” incl. doom baskets, doom corners, doom kitchen drawers, & doom piles in every room. The whole basement? One big doom box. Tbh I’m just lazy. What am I even doing, I sometimes wonder.

    Also I suck at cooking. This one is partly nature, partly nurture. I never really cared about cooking, and my family of origin never really ate meals together or had much in the way of family tradition around food; then in my early teens I developed an ED that stuck around, so food and I just never really got along. Zero joy in that relationship. Can’t cook, can’t clean, but let me tell you how I got this ring: my husband, he has weird taste. What do I do well? I’m such a scatterbrain my preschooler and toddler are constantly reminding me of things I forgot to do. Why did I come into this room? What am I doing here?

    My one thing, the one small streak of neat-freak-ism, my little pet organizational neurosis, is: the dishwasher.

    The dishwasher has got to be loaded a certain way. Specifically, the silverware. The silverware container has separate compartments. You must put spoons in one, butter knives in two, forks in three, baby utensils in four, and so on. Why would you not do this. Why would anyone not do this. I don’t understand people who just shove any utensil in any compartment haphazardly, jumbling them all up. It makes more work for you later.

    If I open the dishwasher in the morning to unload it, and I see that someone else finished loading it last night, and the spoons and forks and knives are all jumbled up, I am hit with a palpable wave of horror and disgust. “Eugh!”, I’ll inadvertently exclaim, recoiling, my nose wrinkling as if something smells. The sheer overwhelm. Hands wiggling at my sides like they don’t know what to do. Because where do you even begin?! When the spoons are all in one hole, you can just grab a fistful of spoons and go. Then a fistful of forks. If they’re all mixed together, what do you do?! I have to sort them into the correct compartments before taking them out of the dishwasher. Is it just me?

    But I’d never harass my sweet husband about loading the utensils the “correct” way, because that’d be anal and naggy, and I’m honestly just grateful to have a husband who helps with the dishes. Because really, the silverware is such a miniscule matter. Twenty seconds saved, maybe less. Really, if I think about it, this is not even really a “redeeming quirk” at all. So like what am I doing here.

  • Innocence

    February 26th, 2026
    Daily writing prompt
    Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.
    View all responses

    Let’s start with an indisputable truth. Public education — at least in the US, I can’t speak for other countries — is bad. A public school is a bad place; it’s a cesspool. The whole idea of compulsory public education is just a terrible concept, a failed experiment, and needs to be overhauled or abolished, and that’s a fact, but that’s a rant for another day.

    Myself, I had the misfortune of attending public school all thirteen formative years, K thru 12, and those thirteen years messed me up in irreparable ways. That’s what public school does: it messes kids up. It robs them of their precious innocence far too early.

    I remember as early as fourth grade — maybe even sooner, but that was just when I started to become aware of it — all of my classmates seemed to be in a hurry to become teenagers. Kids of eight, nine, and ten listening to the risqué pop and hip-hop on Hot 101.9 and adopting the lingo. Little boys and girls pretending to “go out” with each other. “Where are they ‘going out’?!” I used to ask. “It’s not like they can drive! Why do they think they’re teenagers?!” And all the girls in a hurry to be wearing a bra, and letting everyone know that they were wearing a bra, because, ahem, see, they needed one, and all the boys in a hurry to be snapping all the straps of all these new bras.

    Even back then, I was like: what is the hurry? Why are all my peers in such a rush to grow up?

    I guess you could say it’s the parents’ fault, not the school’s. If the kids weren’t exposed to mature stuff at home, then they wouldn’t bring it to school, right? Not necessarily. Kids are sponges. They just pick up on stuff. And then they share it. I remember exactly where I was when I learned what a middle finger meant: in my kindergarten classroom, coloring with markers at the table with my little friend. Kids absorb stuff and then, if they’re in school, they go and share it with all the other kids. Like a virus. If not for the filthy swampy hotbed environment that is public school, the sour information a kid picks up wouldn’t spread around all excitedly and multiply the way that it does. School is the problem.

    Besides: I don’t like to blame parents (unless they truly did something heinous and unforgivable). Parents already get enough blame as it is.

    Even more now than they were back in the late ’90s, kids are losing their innocence too early.

    .

    “Well Mith, maybe you’re just slow. Maybe you’re just childish.” Maybe you’re right. I guess by the current standards I was what they call a “late bloomer,” although I’m pretty sure that for human females it’s actually normal to not menstruate until 13. (As for the “needing a bra” milestone, I can’t really speak on that, as I still don’t really need one now, in my mid-thirties; #IBTC for life.) These days many kids are overweight, which is lowering the age of the onset of puberty. And media is trashier, more explicit, and more readily-available than ever, which if I had to guess is probably lowering the age of “psychological” puberty as well.

    Psychologically, as well, I was a “late bloomer.” Academically, I was ahead of the curve, but when it came to fitting in socially, being aware of mature things, and doing things the other kids were doing, I lagged behind. Sure I had crushes all throughout my elementary days, but they were all very childlike, playful, innocent. A boy had nice hair the color of semisweet chocolate, and/or he was smart and funny or could draw really well, and so I was fascinated by him, stared at him across the classroom, thought about him and his nice hair while listening to “U Drive Me Crazy” by Britney Spears on my older sister’s walkman, and that was that.

    I was always secretive about these crushes, not understanding why the popular kids kept talking about their crushes during recess like it was hot gossip, why they kept sharing this information with each other, with devious smiles and this weird sort of pride, that they “liked” so-and-so; wasn’t that an embarrassingly vulnerable thing to share? That you felt mushy inside about someone and pictured them in your head while listening to Britney Spears? Why did they think this was such a cool thing to talk about? I’m not trying to say that I was wiser or anything, I was just incredibly naïve. I didn’t know anything about anything. I didn’t get it: and I still don’t: why did people want to grow up?

    It wasn’t until eighth grade, age 13-14, when I had my first actual mature crush, the kind that makes you go: oh!, okay, I get it now, why people desire physical contact with other people. (Predictably, this crush was on a rather plain-looking boy, a good six inches shorter than me, named Tyler; all American millennial girls really had the same life, didn’t we?) But even then, it was childlike. There was nothing really adult about it. My BFF and I had a code name for him and would draw little cartoons of him in our notebooks. We actually had this stupid game where, whenever we saw a cute guy walking down the hall, we looked at each other and softly went: wee-oo, wee-oo, sounding the hottie alarm. We were dorks. Being misfits who didn’t really participate in the social scene, we were relatively sheltered from what was hot and trendy. We were nothing like the thirteen-year-olds you see on TV these days, who are so fashionable and sleek and aware and over-sexualized. Who barely had time to just be kids. It’s not their fault.

    I blame public schools.

    .

    Why the hurry to grow up? Maybe I’m just a loser who peaked in fifth grade. I’m not beating those allegations. Fifth grade was my best year. It felt like I knew who I was then; it wasn’t that complicated. 2000-2001; I had just turned ten. I had three close friends — we called ourselves the Diamonds. That was the last time I really had a “friend group,” per se. We laughed and had fun and had sleepovers. We had innocent crushes and innocent drama. Cute boys and toy horse collections. Those clear backpacks from Old Navy. CDs and Lunchables and computer games after school in the family’s computer room. Chips by the pool, with no thought whatsoever of diet or exercise. It all felt very important. It was like living in a middle grade novel.

    I liked that year, and was in no particular hurry to switch from my familiar elementary school to the scary, unfamiliar middle school, where I’d have six or seven teachers instead of just one, and I’d have to memorize my class schedule and my way around the building, and the combination to a locker where I’d have to store my stuff. The only thing I looked forward to about middle school was the playground. The place had a really wicked playground outside, a big wooden structure they called The Hive (because the school’s mascot was the hornet), which had a big rope net for climbing and was just way cooler than the metal-and-plastic playground at my old school. That was the exciting part, for me.

    I wasn’t ready for middle school. Heck, I still don’t feel ready for a place like that.

    In elementary, all those mature themes like bodies and crushes were whispered-about, giggled-about, mentioned sneakily, rippling beneath the surface of the class like something latent, growing. But in middle school, it had all just burst open. It was a free-for-all. Kids that age know too much for their maturity level. Kids that age are animals. Maybe in isolation they’re lovely, but in large groups they’re heathens — they can’t help it, it’s a biological phase. But they shouldn’t be in large groups unsupervised like that. (Because one overworked, underpaid adult per twenty-plus adolescent savages does not count as “supervision.”) Public school is a recipe for disaster.

    I did not do well with the transition. Even harder would be the transition from middle to high school, three years later — but middle school, that was where it started. Public elementary school made kids grow up too fast. Made them victims. Public middle school took those victims and pitted them against each other Roman gladiator-style, shamelessly. Public high school seals the deal, drying the cement on their damaged souls. If you had a great time in public school, I’m glad for you, but I also wonder if you’re doing okay, really. Imo homeschooling is not a luxury. Doesn’t matter how little money we have to live on. I’ll resort to begging on the street before I send my children to public school.

    Because what is this hurry to grow up? I had such a hard time saying goodbye to my childhood. I fought tooth and nail to cling to it. The extreme dieting that began in middle school, in my case it wasn’t because of a mature desire to be slim and sexy; not in those early days. I think it really started as a desire to stay small, to avoid responsibility, to avoid the sheer horror of living in an adult female body. Please just keep taking care of me. Don’t make me do this, this ‘life’ thing. I didn’t understand the other kids’ rush to act like they were older than they were. We’re still so young, I wanted to shout at them. We’re still so young! What are you doing!

    And I kept right on feeling like that all through high school, and through my twenties, no, I’m not an adult yet!, and now suddenly I am 36 and I feel like I missed a boat somewhere. A healthy sense of growing up, of being at the right stage at the right time, was never there. Childhood was just ripped away. I know it’s my own fault I’m a weirdo and I take full responsibility for my own shortcomings. However, I also blame public school.

    I didn’t want to say goodbye to fifth grade. I remember at my fifth grade graduation our music teacher had us sing “Time Of Your Life” by Green Day. I remember the sweltering school gymnasium full of folding chairs and the teal-blue flowery dress I wore, without really worrying about what my body looked like in it. For years I’d wish I could get back that freedom, that degree of unself-consciousness. But it was already being pulled away. When I look back at the photos of that awkward girl with the poofy hair and her hands gripping that fifth grade diploma, I can see it slipping away, her innocence and freedom already being pulled away.

    .

    Sure kids will grow up, whether they go to public or private school or school at home. Sure they grow up too fast regardless. That’s a brutal fact of life. But we don’t have to make it worse. Innocence is a treasure. The powers that be ought to concern themselves with protecting and preserving it. But where’s the money in that, I guess. Yes, it’s partly just the tragedy of being human, but it’s also public school.

    “But Mith, your kids are going to be so sheltered” — damn right they are! The world is a terrible place and I’m going to shelter them as hard as I can, to let their precious minds form and develop in a safe and nurturing environment, so that when they inevitably have to enter this terrible world, they do so with a healthier, less-damaged sense of themselves, and with a better perspective on the world, and with their purity.

  • Baking Championship Next Gen Season 1 Semifinal: Mith Reacts

    February 25th, 2026

    Cat in the Hat-inspired desserts this week. There’s always got to be one episode per season that’s a shameless plug for some sponsor. It always gives me vicarious cringe for the contestants, because they have to pretend to be enthused about the latest dumb movie, but this week it was especially cringe, because some of these older siblings are fourteen years old; do you really think they care about the new Cat in the Hat movie? Which, come on, did we really need another Cat in the Hat movie? Seriously? FFS. I’m so over unnecessary remakes. I think filmmakers have simply run out of ideas. All the movies have been made. It’s time to stop.

    The little CGI effects annoyed me so much. Every time one popped up I couldn’t wait for it to be over. Maybe on a show for like 4-8 year olds it would have been cool and appropriate, but some of these kids are full-on teenagers, it’s just embarrassing. – I am curious, though, what was happening in the actual studio, and what everyone on set was seeing and reacting to while we were seeing the CGI effects. I have no idea how that works.

    Okay, rant over, on to the baking. So the challenge was to create desserts decorated with a rhyming animal “helper” buddy. Abigail and Kenneth did “Blake the snake with a rake”, who helps people tend to their gardens; Leia and Kiera did “Betty the yeti with confetti”, who spreads joy with confetti; Genesis and Akbar did “Lee the bee with a key”, who holds the key to happiness; and Maci and Emmett did a “Frog on a log”, who is there to talk to you when you’re feeling down.

    Duff’s example stole my favorite animal: “snail with a pail”, a little friend to follow you around the kitchen and clean up after you. So I can’t re-use snail. What would I make, then, if I were on this show? How about Doug the pug with a mug? A little squishy-faced buddy to bring you coffee when you need energy. If you were good at fondant and sculpting, which I am not, you could make a little pug, and then a little coffee mug out of like modeling chocolate or whatever and fill it with some kind of custard or pudding. Obviously you’d need to place this on a coffee-flavored dessert, like maybe a cream-filled pie. What would you guys make? It’s actually harder than you’d think, to think of animals that rhyme with stuff, so I hope they gave the kids ample time to prepare their ideas!

    Leia and Kiera knocked it out of the park once again. Right off the bat rhyming “yeti” with “confetti,” and even thinking of “yeti” in the first place, is some next-level creativity. They got some criticism for pull-apart cupcakes being “too simple,” but that was before Duff and Kardea realized that those colorful little candies were not just random gumballs for decoration, but mango-filled truffles! A wise move. Those truffles definitely stepped the whole thing up a notch or two. I couldn’t help noticing that Duff was critiquing their dessert as if he were critiquing an adult’s creation on a regular Baking Championship: the mango filling a bit too soft and fluffy to go with a hard chocolate exterior – I mean, this is seriously nitpicky stuff, completely glossing over the mind-boggling fact that these children just produced an immaculate fondant sculpture of a yeti and an assortment of homemade white chocolate-mango truffles, not to even mention the mango-filled coconut cupcakes underneath. If any other Next Gen contestant had done that, I’m pretty sure the judges would have just been stunned, but from Leia and Kiera it’s just business as usual at this point. If these girls don’t win next week, I’m going to be floored.

    Seriously – it almost feels unfair. Like I almost feel like these two shouldn’t have been allowed to compete on this show because they’re so advanced. There should be a show in between Next Gen and the adult leagues – something for teens who are already really technically skilled. Leia and Kiera would be a better fit for a show like that. I want to know where they learned how to bake and decorate!

    Not that the other contestants aren’t amazing though! Genesis and Akbar’s pie may have been a little messy, with that lattice crust looking kind of unfinished around the edges, but the pie apparently tasted insane. The judges didn’t say so explicitly, but I’m pretty sure that was the most delicious dessert this episode. These two haven’t yet made something that didn’t taste mind-blowing, except maybe in week three when they were forced to work with jalapeño. Undoubtedly, whether they win next week or not, they will go on to do amazing things.

    My husband is rooting for Genesis and Akbar, but I don’t really have a favorite. Like I said in week one, it’s hard to pick a favorite when all the contestants are children. I honestly like all of the remaining teams so much.

    And it was sad to see Maci and Emmett go home. They were such strong contenders, but alas!, their pie filling didn’t set, and that one flaw was enough to send them home, at this point, because everyone else’s were so good. What a shame. Maci looks like my elementary school BFF, so I had kind of a special soft spot for her.

    Abigail and Kenneth – I haven’t mentioned them yet, but they did amazing this week, too, and finally won a challenge! The décor on those cream puffs was gorgeous, with the black icing and gold “scale” decorations. And, Abigail’s imitation of a chicken sounded so real, I literally thought there was a chicken on the set somewhere, lol. She’s a trip. “Who’s your biggest competition?” “Myself.” And when they asked Kenneth the same question, he just pointed at her. She’s just the coolest.

    So yes, I think it will be Leia and Kiera next week, simply because they are so technically good, but if they slip up on their flavors, it could very well be either of the other teams. Abigail and Kenneth are consistently strong, and Genesis and Akbar are obviously amazing at what they do. I’m in suspense!

    This show has surprised me! I wasn’t too into it at first, but now I actually really look forward to Tuesday nights. It’s been fun. What do we think? If you’re watching this show too, leave me your comments! Even if you’re watching this in like 2028 or beyond and you think I won’t care anymore! I want to hear from you!

    Superlatives from the judges: 0 (Running Total: 6)

    Kid who most deserved a hug: Lee the Bee. I freaking loved him! Lol no jk, it’s gotta be Genesis, for the look on her face in that brief moment after Kardea just silently pushed her plate of pie away as if she were disgusted. Poor kid! But, what do you know, she nailed it again.

    Kid who most deserved a high five: Kiera, for being so kind to Maci and Emmett after their elimination. She was right there gushing about how great they did. She seems like such a sweet girl!

    The dessert that I would most have liked to eat: Probably Genesis and Akbar’s apple caramel pecan pie… although Abigail and Kenneth’s raspberry cream puffs looked awfully good, too, so I dunno.

  • Sobriety, sanctity, & St. Mark Ji Tianxiang

    February 22nd, 2026

    Ever since I first stumbled upon the story of the nineteenth-century Chinese martyr Saint Mark Ji Tianxiang, a month or so ago, I’ve been unable to get him off my mind.

    Not only because he’s the patron saint of addicts & those in recovery, so a patron of mine automatically, and because his feast day, July 9, happens to be a very personally significant day for me (some sources say his feast day is July 7, but it’s officially July 9; he died on the 7th, but is celebrated in the new Roman liturgical calendar with his fellow Martyrs of China on the 9th), which is of course just a coincidence and nothing particularly meaningful in and of itself, but still grabs my attention… but also, because his life story, which is unlike that of any other saint I’m familiar with, shines some real light on a nagging Question That Keeps Me Up At Night (and has done so for years).

    You can read about his life story here, but the tl;dr is: St. Mark was an opium addict who was never able to quit. He struggled for 30 years to get clean, and at the time of his death was still actively addicted. Because he was unable to stop, even while fighting valiantly against it by frequenting Mass and Confession, his priest denied him absolution and Communion, seeing as how he didn’t seem to have a firm purpose of amendment. So St. Mark lived without the Sacraments for 30 years. But he didn’t give up his faith. He died a martyr during the Boxer Rebellion, executed for refusing to apostasize.

    And he’s a saint. Canonized by Pope St. John Paul II the Great in the year 2000. A canonized saint who died actively addicted, and hadn’t even been able to receive the sacraments!

    Reading this kinda flipped my whole understanding of everything on its head.

    .

    “But for the Grace of God” & “One Day at a Time”

    How does any addict get and stay clean/sober? I’m almost seven years sober myself. I don’t go to meetings anymore, but early on I went to a ton of them, and became quite fluent in AA. And one thing that I always heard at their meetings was the slogan: “but for the Grace of God, there go I”, meaning: when we see someone relapse, we must know that we too are vulnerable; no one is ever safe from slipping. We mustn’t trust in our own strength.

    Only the Grace of God keeps us sober — only one day at a time. I heard that over and over and over, and tbh it always annoyed me a bit and I never understood it.

    Because what do you mean it’s God keeping me sober? If that were true, wouldn’t it be easy — wouldn’t it feel like the work was being done for me? Instead of me working so hard to do it myself? Avoiding booze was hugely difficult, early on. It was strenuous. It would have been nice to feel like Someone Else was taking care of it for me, but it didn’t feel like that.

    Only one day at a time: I kind of understood this then. Early on, it makes more sense to focus on twenty-four hours (or even the next hour, or half-hour, or five minutes…). If you try and think about staying sober forever, it’s way too daunting. But the next five minutes, I can do. The next twenty-four hours, maybe I can do.

    But “one day at a time” begins to mean more than that, almost seven years in. Around the 3-5 year mark, I felt pretty invulnerable: “I’ve got this! I’ve figured it out. Welcome to the big numbers! I’m free! I really don’t need alcohol any more.” — But then, sometimes, I realize how easy it would be. I think about going back, and I know I’m still the same person, or even worse. A slight inconvenience and I’m thinking how nice it would be, all the sensations of the old routine. What’s stopping me? It’s like the feeling of standing on a very tall building looking over the edge. You could just do it. Nothing’s stopping you.

    But for the Grace of God.

    I think I begin to understand now, how it’s only grace that keeps us sober. People in AA talk about willingness — it’s another one of their keywords, along with humility, service, surrender, etc. Willingness is, obviously, crucial. You have to be willing to not pick up the drink. (Easier said than done.)

    And from where do we get this magical thing, this Willingness? How do we find it? Some of us never do.

    The thing is, I think only God can give you willingness. Not just to stay sober, but to do anything at all. People always applaud themselves for accomplishing hard things, for their motivation and drive and energy; but where did they get those attributes from? Everything that we think we worked for, is really a gift. That doesn’t make doing the work easy. It just makes it possible.

    This is something I’ve only begun to get my head around in the last year and a half or so. Everything that we have really is from God. As with those other slogans, like “but for the Grace of God,” I used to hear this said, and frown, and not really understand it. Why do you say I can’t do anything without God? Like, sure, my life is a gift from Him, and my health is a gift from Him, but what I do with those are all me, right? I get out of bed in the morning and do my work. That’s no miracle. Because even if I don’t pray or ask God to help me accomplish my tasks, the tasks still get accomplished. Isn’t that me? Didn’t I do that?

    I see now how silly it was of me to think that I was anything at all, that I could do anything at all, without God! That’d be like a single blood cell — nay, a single atom — a single subatomic particle! — thinking that it had any capability of accomplishing any real task on its own, independently of the human body.

    All of our capabilities and dispositions, everything that makes up our soul and our consciousness (with the exception of sin, which God allows to exist even though He doesn’t like it) — all of this is from God. “God comes to you disguised as your life,” someone quoted. So, if we have the willingness to not drink: that is from God.

    And when someone who is addicted to alcohol or some other substance, who is entrenched in that sin, is, through no merit of their own, granted the willingness to not commit that sin anymore — well of course that’s miraculous.

    .

    “It works if you work it” & God’s mercy

    Which brings me back to St. Mark Ji Tianxiang.

    Addiction is a bottomless pit, a fast track to hell. It’s a black hole. That’s how powerful it is. And whether we as addicts have the willingness to stop indulging is, basically, outside of our control. If we have the willingness, we can nurture it and try to make it fruitful. If we don’t have willingness yet, we can try, in different ways, to acquire it: by making ourselves open to grace. Maybe that’s by prayer or the Sacraments or going to meetings or meditation or whatever it is that you do. We should certainly keep doing all of that, persistently. And if you don’t even try, then that’s your fault. But whether God chooses to grant willingness is entirely up to Him. We can’t understand why He grants it to some and not to others — why some have to suffer so much or even die, and why others make it out relatively unscathed. Sometimes it seems unfair. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”

    During his life, St. Mark did the right things. He fought courageously against the addiction. God didn’t set him free from it, not while he was alive. But he never gave up.

    And now he’s a canonized saint. I’m still trying to get my head around this.

    Because in AA, if you keep relapsing, that’s on you. Oh don’t get me wrong, no one’s going to banish you from meetings, no matter how many times you relapse. Even if you never successfully dry up, as long as you have a desire to stop drinking, you’re welcome and eligible for membership (that’s the Third Tradition). (Notice that “desire” is different from “willingness.”) You’re still welcome, you’re still a member — but if you’re messing up, that’s on you, as any sponsor will tell you. And if you keep relapsing, your sponsor will probably even fire you because you’re “not doing the work.” Or they might say something like “I must not be the right sponsor for you.” This is basically what St. Mark Ji’s confessor told him: try harder. As the slogan goes,“it works if you work it.”

    But wasn’t St. Mark “working it”? He was devout and sincere. He may not have had a literal 12 Step group around him (which some die-hard AA/NAs will probably say was the problem, the missing piece of the puzzle, for him) — but, imo, as someone who no longer goes to meetings, St. Mark was doing all the right things. The Twelve Steps are really just a secularized, simplified version of the Sacraments, after all.

    “But maybe if he’d had the fellowship of other addicts…” yeah, fellowship is another of those AA keywords. I dunno, in my experience you can be drowning in Fellowship and still not have Willingness. But maybe that’s just me. I have AVPD so fellowship doesn’t really do much for me; it doesn’t penetrate my shell, but just kind of rolls off of me like water off of a painfully awkward duck. So, I dunno, I’m not really a believer in the absolute necessity of fellowship, when it comes to sobriety at least. I still think St. Mark could have stayed clean without it, if God had allowed him to.

    But so why is it that in AA I was taught that, if I couldn’t stop drinking, it’s because I was doing something wrong — I wasn’t working hard enough? Doesn’t St. Mark’s story tell us the opposite?

    Or does it?

    We don’t have the details. All the stories say “he fought bravely,” “he kept coming to Mass,” “he prayed diligently,” et cetera… but maybe he wasn’t doing all that he could have. We don’t know! Maybe the lesson here isn’t just that we addicts are completely powerless, but that saints are not necessarily perfect people who get everything right. Sure a lot of them are. Look at St. Thérèse, who never committed a mortal sin in her life. I admit that the first time I read Story of a Soul, I had a hard time relating to her. (Thankfully I’ve grown since then.) But the life of St. Mark Ji paints a very different picture of sainthood. Maybe he could have tried harder. He was human, and a sinner. Maybe some saints really are sinners who never gave up.

    Or maybe the big takeaway here is about God’s mercy. God can make anyone a saint — even an addict who couldn’t stay clean.

    St. Mark’s story reminded me a lot of another story I’d heard. My late friend “J” (may he rest in peace) knew a lot about Eastern Orthodoxy, and had considered converting — and anyway, he told me about an Orthodox “saint” by the name of Paisios of Mount Athos (1924-1994). Even though he was Orthodox, and as such held some really problematic beliefs, he was a very holy man, and said a lot of amazing and inspiring things.

    There’s this story about Paisios and an alcoholic monk who lived at the monastery and couldn’t stop drinking. Apparently, when the drunk monk finally died, all the other monks were like “thank God he’s gone, right?! What a nuisance! What a loser!” but Paisios defended the deceased one, telling the other monks about how he (the dead drunk) had developed an addiction because of his traumatic past, and had worked hard over the years to reduce his consumption just a little, and had been fighting a heroic battle that no one else knew anything about; and how, at his death, Paisios saw a whole battalion of angels come to collect his soul.

    I like to think that this story is true.

    We hear all the time how no one can enter Heaven with any scraps of worldliness still clinging to them. How you must be free of all attachment to even venial sin. Which at a glance seems contradictory to the story of this drunk monk, and of St. Mark Ji. It’s true that addiction reduces culpability, when it comes to sin. But still — that someone could pass straight from active addiction through the gates of Heaven — that’s wild to me. I have confused/complicated feelings about the whole Divine Mercy devotion, but dang: God’s mercy really must be as ridiculously huge and expansive as St. Faustina told us. It really gives you hope.

    The virtue of hope

    That’s the the other thing that St. Mark Ji’s story sheds light on for me: hope.

    Apparently, as he was being led to his execution, alongside his family members, one of them asked him: where are we going? To which St. Mark replied, happily: We’re going home.

    Imagine the confidence! To be so sure that, after living as an addict unable to even receive the Sacraments, you were going to walk right into Heaven.

    I never understood before. Faith, hope, and charity, the three theological virtues. Secretly, I always thought to myself: yes, charity is clearly very important, and I can see that faith is too; but what’s the big deal with hope? Why is it such a sin to despair of God’s mercy? Isn’t that just being realistic?, I thought, considering how many people go to hell and how miserable of a sinner I am. I’m naturally a pessimist, and prefer to set my expectations low, so that I’m always either correct or pleasantly surprised. But apparently that’s not the right attitude to have when it comes to our religion. And tbh I never really understood why not.

    St. Mark Ji shows us just how necessary it is to have hope in God. Hope was what kept him going for three decades without access to the sacraments. Even when he didn’t have those, which are the very foundation of our faith life, he still had hope. Hope against all odds — what a cool thing! And joy! To go to his martyrdom with joy and hope after a life that any worldly person would call “hopeless.” St. Mark shows us that hope is actually essential to sanctity. Somehow, no one before him has ever been able to get this through my thick little pessimistic skull.

    .

    In conclusion

    So after all, I’m not sure if the life of St. Mark Ji Tianxiang contradicts anything that I was taught in AA; on the contrary, I think it supplements those teachings — it teaches us things that a secular (because make no mistake, AA is secular, even though they make you accept a “Higher Power” your HP doesn’t have to be the One True God, it can literally be a doorknob if you’re so inclined), human-founded organization cannot: about the actual hugeness of God’s power and mercy, and the importance of hope in Him.

    Which is why, imo, it’s best to have both. You should at least be a practicing Catholic, but if you’re really in the trenches with addictive behavior, a 12 step group sure can’t hurt either, as long as you don’t get too caught up in the secularism, and keep your eyes on the real Higher Power, as St. Mark did. What a cool saint, what an awesome witness, what a story.

    St. Mark Ji Tianxiang, ora pro nobis.

  • Justice for squirrels

    February 20th, 2026

    Sciurus carolinensis: the dreaded, pesky Eastern grey squirrel, so ubiquitous in this part of the US.

    Everyone says you’re not supposed to like squirrels. Squirrels are a pest. They scare away the birds, which are smaller and prettier and less common and therefore morally superior and more deserving. How do you keep those damn squirrels away from your bird feeder so that the birds can eat??

    I too fell for the anti-squirrel propaganda, having been raised by two avid bird-watchers and grown up in a very actively pro-bird, anti-squirrel household. When my husband and I moved into our house six-odd years ago, I got a bird feeder for the backyard, but soon got rid of it because all it managed to feed were squirrels, those plain old Eastern grey squirrels. Obnoxious rodents, I thought. Waste of time and effort, I thought.

    But at thirty-six, I have realized that, actually: I love feeding the squirrels. This is one of those things that I would never have seen the beauty in if not for having kids.

    It began with the book “The Secret Life of Squirrels” by Nancy Rose: a kids’ book that we checked out from the public library. If you’re not familiar with this book, it’s about a squirrel named “Mr. Peanuts:” a very cottagecore slice-of-life little story for small children. The illustrations are real photographs of a real squirrel, taken in little dollhouse-like arrangements and backdrops. It’s very precious.

    So we read and loved this book. Then at some point afterwards, my younger daughter (age 3-4 at the time) noticed a squirrel, an ordinary Eastern grey squirrel, outside our dining room window, and exclaimed: “it’s Mr. Peanuts!”

    How about we set some food on the ledge for him?, I offered.

    Because see our dining room window has a busted screen, a hole in it big enough to fit your hand through. And at the base of this window, on the outside wall of the house, is a small brick ledge, just the right size for a squirrel. So we began setting little bits of food out there, through the hole and onto the ledge, for the squirrels. Mostly PB&J crusts (my kids’ diet is 75% PB&Js). But also bits of bread, pancake, waffle, crackers – pretty much anything that drops on the floor and is rendered inedible to humans.

    And so “Mr. Peanuts” began coming right up to our window. We could sit there in our dining room and look at him, at eye level, up close and personal.

    I think I love it even more than the kids do. Every time he hops up there, we all shriek with delight. I even started making him his own little treats sometimes. Like two corn tortillas sandwiched together with peanut butter and cut into wedges. A squirrel pizza, I called it. And when he took one of the wedges in his little hands and started chewing on it, we all screamed: he’s eating his pizza! It honestly made my day.

    Here is a picture of Mr. Peanuts at our dining room window, looking for more snacks. He’s gotten used to finding them there. Excuse the kids’ peanut-buttery finger streaks on the glass. One day the windows in my house will be clean, but today is not that day.

    I can sit there and watch him endlessly. He’s fascinating: his tiny little paws with their tiny bendy fingers, and the way they grasp a piece of food; his beady black eyes, the cloud of spindly silvery hairs on his curved tail. His twitchy little movements. It’s really marvelous, the way he eats and hops around.

    Sometimes he and his little squirrel friends fight over the food. Squirrel battles ensue. It’s slightly distressing, but also very entertaining: a real-life nature documentary.

    Sometimes I’m like: damn! These critters really just exist in my yard, all the time, and I just don’t even think about it?!

    Why do people not like squirrels? Just because they are everywhere? Because they are able to live in all kinds of different environments, from the forest to the inner city? Isn’t that kind of cool?

    Why do people hate squirrels? Is it because they’re always jumping into the path of oncoming cars and then zig-zagging down the middle of the road (a survival tactic meant to deflect a pursuing predator)? I admit that is very annoying. Sometimes I do gripe about it, if I’m trying to get somewhere in a hurry. But I also always brake or swerve to avoid them. My driver’s ed coach way back in the day docked points off my test, in fact, because I braked for squirrels.

    Do people hate squirrels because they can carry diseases? – Like any wildlife? You know what else carries diseases? Birds! And you bend over backwards to invite those onto your property.

    Is it just because they scare away the birds? The pretty, dainty little birds?I guess I can understand preferring a creature because it’s more beautiful than another. When I chose the flowers for my wedding, I chose the ones that I think are most beautiful (hydrangeas). When I adopted the dogs that I used to have, I favored them over the other available dogs mainly because they were cute. And Lord knows I’d rather have butterflies in my yard than creepy, ugly beetles and ants.

    But I wonder if our quickness to prefer things that are uncommonly beautiful sometimes causes us to neglect the everyday beauty that’s sometimes right in front of us. If you narrow your definition of beauty to what’s uncommon, like the red-carpet celebrities in their custom gowns, then all the people around you in your everyday life are going to seem ugly and disappointing. And when we start to equate beauty with moral superiority, which we are naturally inclined to do without even thinking about it… that becomes problematic, especially if we have a distorted idea of what beauty is.

    I understand being more impressed by something that you don’t see as often. The birds, the beautiful little delicate birds with their colorful feathers. All these anti-squirrel measures that people take in their backyards, the great lengths they go to to keep them away: I guess it’s the same way we weed our flower garden so that the beautiful flowers can grow.

    Personally, I’m not much of a gardener. I’m not much of a maker, a doer, or a go-getter. I’m very passive, and have always just kind of taken what comes my way rather than fought to get what I want (for the most part, that is, with a few noteworthy exceptions). So I guess it’s characteristic of me that I gave up birdwatching, and have now just embraced the company of the squirrels.

    And personally, I don’t think that’s so bad. It’s easy, it’s peaceful, and it’s fun. Que sera and all that. It’s been a surprise and a joy to stop fighting against nature and realize just how interesting the Eastern grey squirrel is. I guess sometimes you don’t realize, until you stop weeding your garden, that some of the weeds are lovely in their own ways.

  • Another stupid little layperson’s thoughts on the upcoming episcopal consecrations

    February 19th, 2026

    I hesitate to even post this, because the world really doesn’t need another uneducated layperson’s opinion, on matters of Church politics or anything else. There are too many stupid opinions out there, all day every day, and everyone seems to think that theirs matters. I’ve seen so many garbage opinions on this topic spouted all over social media lately, which is what prompted me to word-vomit this out in the first place. As a response. I should probably just keep my mouth shut. No one needs Mith to defend their cause, and I’m probably just an embarrassment to those I’m trying to defend: a fat little unkempt shih tzu trying to bark and growl like it thinks it’s a big fierce guard dog. And you just look at it like “is that even a dog?”

    I hesitate also because of how incredibly unqualified I am to talk about such subjects. I’m not an expert by any means. I’m sure some of you actually-smart Catholic readers will see this and just laugh and go “yeah, you should’ve hesitated more.”

    But, maybe it’ll reach someone who likes it.

    When I was discerning all of this back in 2024, I scoured the internet for concise, dumbed-down answers to philosophical questions that I had, that made the answers digestible. I wasn’t looking for a million citations from lengthy, lofty Vatican documents that I didn’t particularly want to read. But, I also didn’t need another oversimplified “just obey Rome”-type message. I needed to actually understand the philosophy in a way that made sense, in a way that I could verbalize myself. I needed personalized answers for a simple but curious person.

    So, the following shall be my response to the haters, and shall attempt to be the sort of post that I was looking for in 2024.

    And maybe just maybe there are other people out there looking for similar content, now that the recent news has put the SSPX back in the spotlight and gotten everyone talking about them again.

    And besides, this is my stupid little blog, and what else is it for if not for sharing my random unnecessary opinions.

    .

    The news of the upcoming SSPX episcopal consecrations: everyone on Catholic Internet has been talking about it, so I guess I’ll go ahead and throw my opinion out there too.

    Which, I must emphasize, will be just that: an opinion. Mith is not qualified to speak knowledgeably about things like canon law, Church politics, or the liturgy wars. I am not a commentator. I’m just a silly little layperson who’s not even a very good Catholic, not very well-read, and has only been attending the TLM for sixteen months. This post will simply contain my reaction, my little musings, my own little personal experience/ opinion/ feelings about the matter. If you’re looking for useful, objective information, please seek elsewhere.

    .

    For me, it’s been funny and sad to see Catholic Internet all aboil with hatred toward the SSPX. All these voices suddenly crying out “schism! schism!!” and saying the most hateful, ignorant things, when they clearly haven’t done their research, nor paused to consider the issue from a logical angle, nor had a single second’s actual experience with the real-life SSPX.

    If this had happened two to three years ago, I’d surely be all upset about it like all these other Catholics online. “How dare they!” “Disobedient!” “They think they’re more Catholic than the Pope!” Yes, I have been in their position before, making these same weak accusations – refusing to understand, refusing to think, because I’d been told I wasn’t allowed to.

    Which is why I just kind of roll my eyes and sigh at such nonsense now.

    In retrospect it’s truly embarrassing how much time I wasted waffling and fence-sitting. I wanted to go to the SSPX Mass, wanted to live a Traditional Catholic life, but I was afraid to, because of the way the modern Church treats Tradition. Like some sort of taboo. Don’t even mention it in polite company. Did you know they’ll ban you from r/Catholic if you dare to utter a single non-negative word about the Society?

    “Any average Protestant on the street has a better shot at getting into Heaven than a Bishop of the SSPX,” someone Tweeted.

    “They’re not Catholic,” someone told me, interrupting me mid-sentence when I dared to casually mention the nearby SSPX chapel in conversation.

    And, when I broke the news to an acquaintance from my former, NO parish that I was defecting for the SSPX, she was horrified – literally aghast. “Do not trust them,” she urged me.

    Normally I’m super impressionable – a real doormat. So you’d think that that interaction would have swayed me. But luckily, I’d already done my research, prayed about it relentlessly, and at last made up my mind, by that point.

    Catholics are fed so much BS about the SSPX. And told not to question it. Shhh — don’t even talk about them! The mainstream Church literally treats Protestants and Orthodox as their “brothers in Christ” – but the SSPX? Who are fully Catholic, have apostolic succession, teach the fullness of the faith, and btw have the “official” faculties of confessions and marriages (which, how can you do those if you’re not a Catholic priest?!)? Oh no. We don’t talk about them.

    It’s really a tragedy.

    .

    Back when I was debating whether or not to go the SSPX way, I found that all my painstaking research and persistent prayer left me at an impasse. I could understand the argument from both sides; both presented compelling cases. It became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to logic my way out of this one. I needed some real-world experience.

    So I went out on a very scary limb, figuring that, if it were a mistake, God would have mercy on me because the sense of being called there would not relent, and I was earnestly trying to discern His will – and visited.

    I wish more people would do that. I wish more of these NOrmie Catholics would just take some time to talk to a SSPX Priest and ask him questions. To see what it’s actually like.

    But, to be fair, they’re taught not to.

    They think we’re all crazy, Pope-hating sedevacantists, over here at the SSPX chapels. They think we think we’re the only real Catholics. None of that is true. Actually, I’ve never heard a single word of hostility or vitriol or blame or even dislike from any of the Society priests about the NO world. On the contrary, they speak of the modern Church with genuine compassion and sorrow. With fatherly concern for a flock led astray. I can’t say the same for the Novus Ordites.

    .

    I’m not going to go into all the reasons here why the SSPX is right about what they are doing. If you’re interested, you can do the research. But I’d advise reading about it from more than one angle. Don’t just read what the “popesplainers” (as they are humorously called) have to say. Listen to SSPX sermons, listen to their podcast. Think about it. You have to be able to think with your brain and not your emotions.

    People are so angry. They make such assumptions about the mindset/thought process of those who support the Society.

    But I think what’s really angering these haters, what’s really getting under their skin, is that they actually love Tradition. (How could you not?) They love what the SSPX is doing, and would love to go to their Masses and support them – but they just don’t feel like they can, because that’s what the NO world tells you – and so they get bitter. And it angers them when they see other people doing what they themselves wish they could do but are afraid to. So they start screaming “no! You’re not allowed to do that!”

    It’s the exact same phenomenon as the one I pointed out in a recent post on a different topic: there’s a certain sect of working moms who love to hate on those stay-at-home moms who’ve chosen to sacrifice financial comfort in order to stay home with their kids. “Must be nice! To have the luxury!”, they snipe and gripe. “Stop telling the rest of us it’s okay to quit our jobs and stay home, because I simply can’t do it! I’d be too poor!” When in fact they could do it but simply don’t want to be a little uncomfortable, and so they’re mad at those women who prove that it can be done. It’s easier to get mad and tell yourself it’s impossible, than to do the hard thing.

    Which is why these sacrificing stay-home moms live rent-free in these bitter working moms’ heads. The same way the SSPX lives rent-free in the heads of so many of these “blind obedience” NO Catholics. They’d love a return to Tradition – who wouldn’t! Most devout Catholics, no matter where they attend Mass, long to see the Church return to her former beauty and glory, and love the rigor of Tradition, and long for exactly what the SSPX offers. But they are deluded and believe they can’t go. And so they’re mad.

    Which is why they’re out here spewing all this hateful content online right now. .

    I’ll tell you a bit about my thought process, in case you’re interested. Keeping in mind that I’m not a historian, or an expert, or even that well-read, but just a slow little layperson who needs concepts dumbed down in very plain terms: these are some dumbed-down versions of the arguments that swayed me in favor of the SSPX.

    Obedience is the big question here. What is meant by obedience? “As Catholics we must be obedient to Rome. That’s what unites us.” True.

    But blind obedience is not the way. Yes, we must be obedient to Rome. But, just hypothetically now, what do you do if Rome becomes corrupted?

    This was one of the things that finally swayed me, when I thought about it. How bad would it have to get? How much more modern and permissive would the modern Church have to get before I would say “okay, this isn’t right”?

    Looking at the history, I saw the progression; I thought ahead to the future, centuries from now, when history books will probably tell of how, in the late 1900s-early 2000s, the Church endured a tragic crisis (foreseen by multiple saints), and it was only thanks to one brave Archbishop that the fullness of her teachings and liturgy were preserved. Which side of history would I want to be on? The side that just went along with it, or the minority that saw what was happening and did something about it, sooner rather than later? We all like to think we’d be the “good ones” in history: we’d be the abolitionists, the Underground Railroad custodians; we’d have sheltered Anne Frank. I decided to do something brave and trust my intuition – to try and land on what I believe is the right side of history. I saw all these other nice, normal families doing it, and that encouraged me. You can do it too. More and more of us are doing it.

    “But Mith, roma locuta, causa finita est and all that!” I haven’t read all of the Archbishop’s writings, but I do know that he differentiated between physical, actual Rome and Eternal Rome. Which might strike you as absurd at first, as it did me, but think about it: you have to acknowledge the difference. Because if “Rome” simply equals “whoever’s currently in power,” then what kind of religion do we have? The people who are in power are there because they represent something eternal, something greater than them. It’s silly to think that we answer to the Pope because of who he is as an individual. No. We answer to him because he represents the eternal Catholic Faith.

    So yes. Roma locuta, causa indeed finita est. Is my take.

    “But Mith, ‘where Peter is, there is the Church!’” – The Society is not not where Peter is. They’re not in schism. “But they were excommunicated” – one: the excommunication was lifted years ago, and two: even if they’re excommunicated, if the source of the excommunication is corrupted, then maybe the “excommunication” should be taken with a grain of salt. And three: what even is an excommunication? It’s a severing of a connection, isn’t it? The SSPX does not see themselves as severed from Rome. They pray for the Pope and acknowledge his authority and supremacy. They cooperate with diocesan priests whenever necessary. They are still members of the family. Just members who dare to dissent.

    If an American citizen complains about corruption in the government and tries to do something about it, do they stop being an American citizen?

    Or, think of a nuclear family – a father, mother, and kids – and imagine the parents become mentally ill. They start telling the kids to do crazy things, and stop enforcing rules to protect the kids’ safety. If one of the older brothers takes the younger siblings under his wing and takes it upon himself to enforce rules and teach proper discipline the way he grew up with it before his parents fell ill – isn’t that very noble of him? Wouldn’t that be wise and loving of him, even if some of his other siblings accuse him of being disobedient to their father? The son in this case is not abandoning his family. He’s not denying that his mom and dad are his parents. He’s not even moving out of the house. He’s just trying to help his family, and to preserve the actual family values, lest they be forgotten – because if those values are forgotten, then what even is the family anymore? Just a group of people.

    .

    The news of the consecrations is encouraging and exciting, because new Bishops are needed — but also troubling. So far, there haven’t been any conclusive results or decisions from the Superior General’s correspondence with the Vatican officials. But, take note: the SSPX is seeking permission to do these consecrations. Because they are Roman Catholic, they are part of the Church, and answer to the Pope.

    “But that’s meaningless, because they’re just going to go through with it anyway even if Rome says no!” – true, because if that happened, it would constitute a state of emergency, and canon law permits such consecrations in a state of emergency. It is troubling because no one wants it to come to that. No one wants to disobey the Pope. No one wants this to lead to an excommunication.

    It’s like calling 911 when there’s a masked guy with a gun at your door trying to break in. You beg them to send the cops. “No, we can’t do that right now.” Or maybe they’re dawdling and don’t arrive fast enough. Do you just lay down and die, then, or do you defend your home, even if it means doing something technically illegal? State of emergency.

    No one wants to get excommunicated. But the Society exists to preserve the Faith. The eternal Faith must come first, before obedience to mortal, physical structure. Objective morality exists, and these structures (Church, the law) are in place to represent that. But if they fail to represent it, then, well, a certain kind of “disobedience” is not only permissible, but required.

    “Oh, so now Mith knows the Catholic Faith better than the Pope?!” Lol please. If the Pope told you the sky was green, would you believe it to be so? Because that’s not how this is supposed to work. I’m just using my little God-given senses and faculties of reason to determine that something’s not being done quite right in the modern Church, and my family’s salvation (which is my priority here) is better attended to by the SSPX.

    “But bearing with the things we don’t like in the modern Church is the cross we have to bear for obedience! Jesus Himself taught us that sometimes obedience doesn’t feel good, but we still have to obey!” Is the state of the NO world something that we should tolerate? What if the Church told you to murder someone? Even if you didn’t want to do it, would that be your cross to bear for the sake of obedience? Doesn’t feel quite right, does it. That’s because the Church can’t tell us to do something that’s morally wrong. And attending an irreverent, disrespectful liturgy is morally problematic. As is raising our kids in a church that doesn’t offer them the fullness of the faith. That’s harming our kids.

    We, the faithful, are actually entitled to good teaching and reverent liturgy. Just as a mother owes her child nourishment and instruction because of the nature of their relationship, our Holy Mother Church owes us good formation and undiluted sacraments.

    “Obedience” is not what they’re making it out to be. “Obedience” doesn’t mean blind obedience to whoever’s in power. You don’t have to “know more than the Pope” to see that some things have gone wrong. It’s really very simple, if you think about it. It’s really just common sense, imo.

    .

    So yes. There’s a chance the consecrations will result in a formal or de facto excommunication. Even I can see that. Will that change things for me, if it happens?

    It’d be sad, but no. It’d be sad because it would show just how far gone the modern Church is. But in a way, it’d be nice to finally have some clarity. All this murky “canonically irregular, “partial communion” (made-up term btw) business, is really confusing and off-putting. If an excommunication happens, at least we’ll all be able to see what’s really going on, in black and white. If the mainstream Church excommunicates the SSPX, I’ll be very sad, but I’ll still be sticking with the latter.

    And I don’t imagine that much would really change, in practice. The Pope would still be the Pope. And I would still love him as my Holy Father. It’s not like the Society would elect a new Pope, because they literally don’t have that power (and they are obedient to Eternal Rome, so they follow such rules). There’s only one Pope. And they would continue to pray for him and see him as their Supreme Pontiff and Holy Father. They’d just have to wait and keep surviving as they’ve been doing, until Rome heals and embraces them fully again. Which will happen one day.

    .

    So that’s just my little thoughts. I don’t reply to tweets or IG/FB comments, nor really post on social media at all, so I just needed a chance to respond to all these ignorant commenters, to scream into the void a bit, after reading so much hatred online lately. I am praying for the consecrations and everyone involved, and for the healing of the Church. I hope you are too.

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