The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of the Legendary Catholic Social Activist by Dorothy Day
There are textbooks and there are textpeople.
Dorothy Day was a textperson who wrote a textbook.
A textbook to life, a textbook to suffering and thereby a textbook to meaning.
A textbook to love and hope in the midst of tragedy and heartbreak.
A textbook to a deeper happiness, a happiness which resides within the sadness which so many of us feel at the early hours of the morning when we are confronted with an infinite number of possibilities and opportunities and we don’t know where to look for our sustenance.
Dorothy Day tells us emphatically, repeatedly: look in the sadness. Look in the troublesome things. Look in the things that are going wrong. Look in the things that aren’t working. Look in the things that could be better. That should be better. And aren’t better because you and I aren’t doing anything about it.
There are things that we should be outraged about. In this age of self-care and, above all, self-preservation, Dorothy’s voice is one that cries out in defence of the widow and the orphan, the naked and the unclean, the hungry and the thirsting. She doesn’t settle for less. She doesn’t accept the status quo. She protests. With her words, with her action, with her being. Her very presence is a challenge to the people around her. She shows a “better way”, in the words of Leonard Cohen. She loves. And because she loves, she suffers. She sees the grief around her. She sees the sorrow. She sees the things the eye would rather not see and the things the ear would rather not hear. And she doesn’t turn a blind eye or ear. She sees. She regards. She witnesses. She listens. She stands firm. She stands her ground. She takes up space. She doesn’t compromise. She speaks. And her words are a challenge too to those who hear them.
She is strong. She is strong precisely because she is weak. Precisely because she knows her deep spiritual poverty and her need for Him who sustains her. Because strength is made perfect in weakness.
Her legacy lives on in her children, both spiritual and physical, and in her words, and in her actions which continue to impact, years after her passing from this life to the next.
And therein lies the great wisdom of Dorothy Day’s life: she lived a life and lived it to the full, willingly bearing sufferings with grace and gladly bearing the cross, because she lived her life in this world in the context of the life to come. When we come to accept that we are sinners and we are saved by the wounds of Jesus, we learn to love. When we die unto ourselves and accept this life as gift, we learn to treat life as something precious and not to be wasted. Life becomes rich. It opens up before us. It takes on a new colour and hue. This knowledge redeems us.
I hope to emulate something of Dorothy’s spirit in my life. She had a close connection to St Benedict and I hope to carry some of her spirit of charity and service with me as I walk forward in my life. It will not be easy but it will be worth it. It will build strength and character. Hopefully it will lead to love and new life.
Adios amigos.