One would think that an opportunity to assist the poor would have uplifted Bernard's spirits, given that he would have direct and important impact in lightening the woes of the city's unfortunates. Certainly, he had thought so, and was quite bemused by the opposite sensation. Thus for over a week, he could be found kneeling in prayer before a statue of Helloise in the docktown chapel, for rather lengthy periods of time.
He wasn't stupid enough to miss the fact that political matters were involved, and were likely the culprit, but he prayed and meditated all the same; it was his habit to allow his mind to travel down the back roads of his intent, searching for surprises, shining a light in what could be more easily left in darkness - in more ways than one. He did not often know what he'd find there, and sometimes he could not identify what was revealed; but he had to make the practice, and try to understand. At the very least, his mind would be calmed.
In this case, he turned over a few specific matters and found them to be acceptable; but there was one that he was left hunting, and could not find. The near constant ache of self-denial, that old friend, that source of occasional euphoria, was stronger of late. It was like an empty stomach that growled and tightened but made the fasting man uplifted; and usually he was uplifted, but now he felt to be virtually grasping, clutching after something, unable to fasten onto it with starving hands. There was a new, unfathomable edge.
It was about the time that he became aware of it, that he decided to end his prayer. He usually ended them whenever he felt the time was right, whether or not a question was answered, and so it was that he missed the fact that this time he had simply decided to shut that door and turn away.
Perhaps it would have consequences.
He wasn't stupid enough to miss the fact that political matters were involved, and were likely the culprit, but he prayed and meditated all the same; it was his habit to allow his mind to travel down the back roads of his intent, searching for surprises, shining a light in what could be more easily left in darkness - in more ways than one. He did not often know what he'd find there, and sometimes he could not identify what was revealed; but he had to make the practice, and try to understand. At the very least, his mind would be calmed.
In this case, he turned over a few specific matters and found them to be acceptable; but there was one that he was left hunting, and could not find. The near constant ache of self-denial, that old friend, that source of occasional euphoria, was stronger of late. It was like an empty stomach that growled and tightened but made the fasting man uplifted; and usually he was uplifted, but now he felt to be virtually grasping, clutching after something, unable to fasten onto it with starving hands. There was a new, unfathomable edge.
It was about the time that he became aware of it, that he decided to end his prayer. He usually ended them whenever he felt the time was right, whether or not a question was answered, and so it was that he missed the fact that this time he had simply decided to shut that door and turn away.
Perhaps it would have consequences.
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