A full day...

Today was the Day with Mary at Our Lady of the Rosary, Blackfen. I arrived at the church at around 9:20am to help set up, but there was little for me to do. The Day with Mary is now quite familiar, having experienced it many times (last year I had to rush off to work after Mass, but I didn't have to undergo this unfortunate declension this year!) in various churches. We went in procession into the choir for prayers and devotions, the crowning of the Statue etc, after which we had an outdoor Procession with the Joyful Mysteries. Mass began afterwards, Cum Iubilo (my personal favourite), and Fr Tim preached a varied and edifying sermon on Mary's role as the Destroyer of Heresies; after which we had lunch. I brought my own lunch and sat down to read Catullus in the car park, but it was too cold and noisy out so I went inside. It was here that I had a chat with two good friends of mine, who ''put things into perspective'' for me (as my mother often says - I lack ''perspective;'' being too wrapped up in myself). It was edifying. Often I complained to my mother, when she said things about perspective, that this was just a veiled way of saying: ''there are others worse off than you are, so you have no right to complain about anything.'' Yes, I suppose this is a way of looking at it, but perspective is always good to have, even if it doesn't alter the way we feel about things. I still feel sour about University and the domestic situation - and a host of other things - but perhaps the enveloping bitterness is mitigated somewhat by perspective. Having contact with people is a blessing in this sense. One of the characteristics about the Autism Spectrum is an inherent desire (inherent in the sense that this is the ''fulfillment'' (again, where is Tolkien the master of words when you need him?!) of being a desire to be ''alone'') to be alone, perhaps more than is healthy for a human being, who is necessarily a social being - even hermits, physically alone, feel the presence of God. But being alone all the time is manifestly disadvantageous. If I had spent the day at home, refusing contact with the world, then perhaps I'd have crawled up with bitterness and nursed growing sentiments of hatred, etc, etc; don't let us go down that path.

Suffice to say, I was crestfallen, especially about some grievous news. It's funny how all one's troubles pale into insignificance compared with other problems. Anyway, after lunch we went back for Exposition, a Procession of the Blessed Sacrament (I was the umbella-bearer), and more Exposition (there were sermons during Exposition, and there was also a spot-light aimed at the Blessed Sacrament as well...). The Pange Lingua was not sung during the Procession, which I found disappointing, since I adore this hymn, but the Franciscan Sisters led the procession in other pertinent devotions. Afterwards, there were more Rosaries (with the ''Luminous'' Mysteries - which I, of course, avoided - what was that old pagan maxim? ''Nothing can be both new and true''...?) and other devotions. I was tired by this time and desired repose, and so I went into the hall for a cup of tea and to catch up on Catullus, neither of which I got, the place being overrun with noisy children! I adore the children; I think the mere fact of youth is wonderful, and I tend to dislike the old and the sensible (this is, incidentally, one of those unexplained mysteries of Asperger Syndrome - they get on so much better with people either far older than themselves or a lot younger than them. I am not sure why I have adopted a somewhat avuncular disposition to children, but I may devote another post to this soon). The children, however, very often do not understand me...

There was a tea-break at 3:30pm, where I caught up with my uncle's Godmother Maureen (a parishioner at the church for some 50-odd years, she cannot herself remember) and another friend (you must be thinking I did very little prayer at this Day with Mary!). Benediction followed. I was particularly impressed by the fact that the whole congregation joined in singing the Tantum Ergo Sacramentum (the church was filled almost to capacity, and so the force of this hit-home and was quite moving). One of the visiting young servers asked, when we came back into the Sacristy, whether it was ''tissue-time'' yet, which sure enough it was, and we went back into the church to wave good-bye to Our Lady for another year, waving our tissues and singing hymns with the richest sweet devotion. Fr Finigan then blessed the scapulars and miraculous medals and the day was over. After helping to clear up afterwards, I was assured that I was in fact more a help than a hindrance today (a nice change there then!), and I was invited to dinner at a friend's house, which was wonderful. The only bad thing was having to go home afterwards...

I want to assure readers that I have read and digested all your emails, many of which were moving and profoundly interesting. Many thanks for your kind offer of prayers, and I shall for my part hold you in my own prayers, immediately and continually, for what they're worth.

By the way, I don't know if you know, but in my present state of financial want (it's not as bleak as I let on - I just have a tendency to be melodramatic sometimes) I brought a lottery ticket yesterday for the Euromillions (the first I have ever brought). I received an email this evening informing me that there was some ''exciting news'' about my ticket, and thinking that I had won the jackpot, I went to view my ticket. I won £7. That is the last time I shall ever buy a lottery ticket.