I'm Gretchen Rubin and this is a little happier. Back in episode 16, Elizabeth and I talked about

to try this at home to choose a spiritual master. And as I said, my spiritual master, even though I'm

not even Catholic, is Saint Thorez of Luzia. And I realized that she was my spiritual master,

as soon as I read her brilliant spiritual memoir called Story of a Soul. And this is one of the

stories that she tells in Story of a Soul that made me realize that she is my spiritual master.

And Saint Thorez is talking about why we should accept a gift in the spirit in which it's offered.

And she also talks about very frankly about why that can be difficult. And that's one of the

reasons I love Saint Thorez as a spiritual master because she's very frank and she's also very

funny. So to set the context for this, this story happens sometime in 1897 when Thorez was in

her early 20s. And she was very weak at this point from tuberculosis, which would soon kill her.

And Thorez was sitting in her wheelchair in the garden of this cloistered convent where she lives.

And she had been ordered by her priors to complete an account of her childhood memories. And so she

was trying to write in her notebook, trying to write those childhood memories. And the other

sisters are doing the haying. So here's what Saint Thorez has to say. When I begin to take up my pen,

behold a sister who passes by a pitchfork on her shoulder. She believes she will distract me

with a little idle chatter. Hey, ducks, hens, visits at the doctor. Everything is discussed.

Another hay worker throws flowers on my lap. Perhaps believing these will inspire me with poetic

thoughts. I'm not looking for them at the moment. And would prefer to see the flowers remain swaying

on their stems. I don't know if I've been able to write ten lines without being disturbed.

However, for the love of God and my sisters, so charitable toward me, I take care to appear happy,

and especially to be so. For example, here is a hay worker who is just leaving me after having said

very compassionately, poor little sister, it must tire you out writing like that all day long.

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