I feel good, I forgive excess, I try to do things right. When I obey traffic rules and stop at a pedestrian crossing. Cheating annoys me and I don’t question paying a fine unless there is an obvious injustice. Other than the occasional Benzodiazepine, I do not self-medicate. When I go to the doctor, I follow his prescriptions and question him very little or not at all. Dr. I’m not one to get x-rays of what I read on Google or ask for a prescription. I pay the treasury, I don’t mind working, and I’ve never cheated on Social Security and been fired for no compelling reason. I’m such a disgusting obedient that if the mouthwash instructions say I should gargle for two minutes, I don’t spit after ten seconds, even if it hurts. I trust people who surrender. I love them.
I feel good when I contribute something. You don’t need to go to India, just open your eyes and observe that there are people around us who need cables. I believe we have an ethical obligation to contribute to the common good as much as we can. To use an analogy applied to the domestic space, it would be something akin to the attitude of sweeping and mopping not only ours but the neighbor’s landing as well.
I am very predictable. I like happy endings. When good wins, when lovers come together, when children are happy, when the future is bright, and when justice wins. I especially love the endings where the most vulnerable are recognized and the Davids win against the Goliaths. So, last week’s good news was the sentence recognizing that the monastery of Santa Isabel in central Palma belongs to Hieronymite nuns. A sober, homely and peaceful space that has been inhabited by this monastic order since the fifteenth century and the Diocese recorded in 2014, exhibiting the behavior we have become accustomed to in recent years, apparently trying to occupy more space than it corresponds to. to them.
One day they decided to move to another smaller monastery of the same order in order to live in better conditions than their superior monastery, and soon the Diocese named it after them. They tried to make us believe that the sisters were ignoring a well-cataloged cultural interest, but it isn’t. It is enough to visit him to realize that he was given care, respect and love during these years. They surrounded themselves with volunteers and professionals who kept him in good standing, with no eloquence or equipment. They made us believe they had speculative interests, but it’s enough to listen to them to know they didn’t. They, thoughtful women, argue the use of the monastery and that it remains a spiritual refuge amid the hustle and bustle. I met them years ago. They radiated this power possessed by people who are full of reason and act with good feelings.
It is unfortunate that a section of the Church, the strong, the veiled and those who are so few in the ring, decide to wage a war, encouraging a sad and unnecessary spectacle. Very few happy endings.