Fourth Dwelling.
Chapter 1.

To begin speaking of the fourth dwellings, I greatly need to do what I have already done: commend myself to the Holy Spirit and ask him, from this point onwards, to speak for me.

I beg him to help me say something about the remaining dwellings in a way you can understand, because here we begin to deal with supernatural things. These are exceedingly difficult to explain unless His Majesty does it.

I wrote about this on another occasion, as far as I had then come to understand it, some fourteen years ago, more or less. Now it seems to me that I have a little more light on these graces the Lord grants certain souls; but understanding them a little more is one thing, and knowing how to explain them is quite another.

May His Majesty do it, if any benefit is to come of it. And if not, may he leave it undone.

Because these dwellings are nearer to the place where the King is, their beauty is very great.

There are things so subtle to see and understand that the mind cannot find the exact way to explain them. It is very difficult to say anything truly clear and precise, especially for those who have had no experience of them.

But someone who has lived through them will understand very well, especially if they have much experience.

It might seem that, to reach these dwellings, one must first have spent a long time in the earlier ones.

Although it is usual to have been in the dwelling we have just explained, this is not a fixed rule. As you have often heard, the Lord grants his graces when he wishes, as he wishes and to whom he wishes, because they are his own gifts. In doing so, he wrongs no one.

Poisonous things—that is, temptations, deceptions or attacks from the devil—seldom enter these dwellings. If they do enter, they cause no harm; rather, they end by bringing some benefit.

Indeed, I think it is better that they sometimes enter and give battle in this state of prayer. Without temptations, the devil might deceive the soul amid the delights God gives it. That deception could do it much more harm than the temptations themselves.

Moreover, without struggle the soul would not gain so much, because opportunities for merit would be taken away. It might remain as though drowsy or continually absorbed in those spiritual delights.

When that absorption is continuous and always the same, I do not consider it safe. It does not seem possible to me that, in this life, the spirit of the Lord should keep the soul always in one unvarying state.

Returning now to what I said I would explain, I want to show the difference between satisfactions in prayer and spiritual delights.

It seems to me that satisfactions are the consolations we receive when we meditate, pray and ask things of Our Lord. They arise partly from our own effort and our natural way of feeling. God helps as well, of course, for we must always understand that without him we can do nothing.

These satisfactions arise from a good work we do. In a sense, therefore, it seems we have earned them through our effort, and it is natural to feel joy at having occupied ourselves with the things of God.

But if we consider it carefully, we can also feel similar satisfactions over many things in this life. For example, when someone suddenly receives a large inheritance or substantial financial help; when someone we love dearly returns unexpectedly; when something important goes well and everyone acknowledges it; or when someone who has been told that their husband, brother or son has died then sees him arrive alive.

I have seen people weep for joy over a great happiness, and it has even happened to me occasionally.

So it seems to me that, just as those satisfactions are natural, the satisfactions we feel over the things of God are natural too, only of a nobler kind. This does not mean the other satisfactions are bad.

In short: these satisfactions begin in our human nature, but end by turning towards God.

Spiritual delights, on the other hand, begin in God.

Then our human nature feels and enjoys them, as much as it enjoys the satisfactions I have just mentioned, and indeed far more.

O Jesus, how much I wish I could explain this well! For I seem to understand the difference clearly, but do not know how to express it so that it can be understood.

May the Lord help me explain it.

I now remember a verse we recite at morning prayer, at the end of the last psalm, which ends with the words: ‘when you enlarged my heart.’

For someone with much experience of this, that phrase is enough to understand the difference between satisfactions and delights. But someone without that experience needs a fuller explanation.

The satisfactions I have spoken of do not enlarge the heart. Rather, they generally seem to constrict it a little, even with the joy of knowing that one is doing something for God.

Tears may come from this, but they are tears with a certain anguish, as though stirred by strong emotion or an inward passion.

I know little about these passions of the soul, and I also understand little of what comes from our sensitivity and human nature. Perhaps, if I understood it better, I could explain myself better. Although I have experienced it, I cannot explain it completely.

Knowledge and education are a great help in all this.

What I have experienced of this state—that is, of these comforts and satisfactions felt in meditation—is this: if I began to weep while thinking of the Lord’s Passion, I could not stop, to the point of ending with a headache. If I wept over my sins, the same thing happened.

Our Lord was granting me a great favour through this. But I do not want to stop now to examine which is better, one thing or the other. What I want is to explain the difference between these satisfactions and spiritual delights.

In these experiences, tears and desires are sometimes helped by our human nature and our disposition at the time. But in the end, as I have said, they turn towards God.

This must be greatly valued, provided there is humility to understand that a person is not better merely for having these tears or desires. For it is not always possible to know whether all this truly comes from love. Even when it does come from love, we must also recognise that it is a gift received from God.

As a rule, souls in the earlier dwellings have these devotions, because they are almost always working with the understanding. That is, they think, reason, meditate and reflect during prayer.

That is good, because it is what the Lord has given them up to that point.

But it would also help them greatly to pause for a while to make acts of love, praise God, rejoice in his goodness, acknowledge him simply for who he is, and desire his honour and glory.

Each should do this as best she can, because it greatly awakens the will and kindles love more deeply.

Be very attentive: when the Lord gives you something different, deeper or more recollected, do not set it aside merely to finish the meditation you are accustomed to making.

Since I have already spoken much about this elsewhere, I shall not repeat it here.

I want you to keep just one thing in mind: to advance far along this path and reach the dwellings we desire, what matters is not to think much but to love much. So do whatever helps you most to awaken love.

Perhaps we do not even quite know what loving means, and that would not surprise me. For loving does not consist in feeling greater pleasure or consolation, but in being more firmly determined to please God in everything.

To love is to strive, as far as we can, not to offend him. It is to ask him that the honour and glory of his Son, and the good of the Catholic Church, may always increase.

These are the true signs of love.

So do not think everything consists in never becoming distracted, or believe that if the mind wanders a little, all is lost.

I suffered greatly from the disorder of my thoughts. In time I understood that the imagination is not the same as the understanding. That is why the soul can be recollected in God while the imagination remains restless, moving from one thing to another. This used to confuse me greatly, because I thought that agitation meant my prayer was wrong.

I asked a learned person about it, and he confirmed that it was so. This gave me great consolation.

Since the understanding is one of the soul’s faculties, I found it hard to accept that it could sometimes be so restless. In reality, however, it is usually thought or imagination that flies rapidly from one thing to another. Only God can calm it and recollect it completely, when he draws the soul towards himself in a special way, as though we were somehow detached from the body.

I could see, as it seemed to me, that the faculties of the soul were occupied with God and recollected with him. Yet at the same time, the imagination remained restless.

That left me confused.

O Lord, take account of how much we suffer on this path through lack of knowledge!

The problem is that, because we think prayer requires knowing nothing beyond thinking of you, we do not even know how to ask those who do know. Nor do we understand what we ought to ask.

Thus terrible trials are endured because we do not understand ourselves. We come to think that something which is not bad, but good, is a serious fault.

From this arise many of the afflictions of people who practise prayer, and many complaints about inward trials, especially among those without education. It can lead to melancholy, loss of health and even some people giving up prayer altogether.

All this happens because they do not consider that there is an inward world within us.

Just as we cannot stop the movement of the heavens, which continue at great speed, neither can we completely stop our thoughts. Yet we then confuse thought with all the faculties of the soul, and imagine that we are lost and wasting our time before God.

In reality, the soul may be entirely recollected with him, very close to the inward dwellings, while thought remains outside, around the castle, suffering among many fierce and poisonous beasts and gaining merit through that very suffering.

So this must not trouble us or make us give up prayer, which is precisely what the devil intends.

In general, many anxieties and inward trials arise from not understanding ourselves.

As I write this, I am thinking about what happens in my head: that great inward noise I mentioned at the beginning, which almost made it impossible for me to carry out what I had been told to write.

It is as though there were many mighty rivers inside my head, with their waters falling forcefully from a height. There also seem to be many little birds and whistling sounds, not in my ears but in the upper part of my head, where they say the highest part of the soul is.

I remained like that for quite some time, because it seemed to me that the great movement of the spirit was rising upwards very swiftly.

May God grant that, in the following dwellings, I remember to explain the reason for this, because this is not the place to do so. It would not be surprising if the Lord had wished to give me this trouble in my head so that I could understand it better.

For even with all that noise and disorder in my head, it does not hinder my prayer or what I am saying. On the contrary, the soul remains wholly in its quiet, its love, its desires and a clear understanding.

If the highest part of the soul is in the upper part of the head, someone might ask: how can all that noise fail to disturb it?

I cannot explain that. But I do know that what I say is true.

When prayer is not accompanied by suspension, that noise or discomfort can cause suffering. For when there is suspension, no discomfort is felt while it lasts.

But it would have been much worse if I had given everything up because of that obstacle.

So it is not right to be disturbed by our thoughts or give them so much importance. If the devil puts those thoughts there, they will cease to do harm when we pay them no attention. If they come, as they often do, from the misery left to us by Adam’s sin, then let us be patient and endure them for love of God.

After all, we are also subject to such things as eating and sleeping, and cannot avoid them, even though they can sometimes be quite burdensome.

Let us recognise our misery and long to reach that place where ‘no one will despise us.’ Sometimes I remember hearing this phrase spoken by the Bride in the Song of Songs, and truly I can find no situation in all of life where it could be said with greater reason.

For all the scorn and suffering life can hold seem to me incomparable with these inward battles.

Any outward anxiety or struggle can be endured when one finds peace within, as I have already said. But to want rest from the many trials of the world, and for the Lord to wish to prepare that rest for us, while the obstacle lies within ourselves—that cannot fail to be deeply painful and almost unbearable.

That is why we say: take us, Lord, where these miseries no longer despise or humiliate us, for sometimes they seem to mock the soul.

Even in this life, the Lord frees the soul from this when it reaches the final dwelling, as we shall say later, God willing.

Perhaps these miseries do not cause everyone so much suffering, or attack everyone as strongly as they attacked me for many years. This happened to me because I was so weak that it seemed I wanted to punish myself or take revenge on myself.

Because it was so painful for me, I think it may perhaps be painful for you too. That is why I repeat it again and again in different places, hoping to succeed in explaining that it is unavoidable.

So let us not allow these thoughts to disturb or distress us. Let them make their noise without giving them so much importance, and let us continue doing our part: keeping the will and the understanding occupied with God.

This obstacle may be greater or smaller, depending on the person’s health and what they are going through at the time.

The poor soul must endure it, even though it is not to blame for what is happening. There will be other things for which we are to blame, and for those it will be right for us to be patient.

Although we often read or are advised not to pay attention to these thoughts, for those of us who know little, I do not think it is time wasted to pause and explain it better and offer you consolation in this.

Even so, until the Lord wishes to give us light, what is said is of little help. But it is necessary, and His Majesty wishes it, that we use the means we have and learn to understand ourselves.

Then we shall not blame the soul for what really comes from a weak imagination, our human nature or the devil.

Para comenzar a hablar de las cuartas moradas bien he menester lo que he hecho, que es encomendarme al Espíritu Santo y suplicarle de aquí adelante hable por mí, para decir algo de las que quedan de manera que lo entendáis; porque comienzan a ser cosas sobrenaturales, y es dificultosísimo de dar a entender, si Su Majestad no lo hace, como en otra parte que se escribió hasta donde yo había entendido, catorce años ha, poco más o menos. Aunque un poco más luz me parece tengo de estas mercedes que el Señor hace a algunas almas, es diferente el saberlas decir. Hágalo Su Majestad si se ha de seguir algún provecho, y si no, no.

Como ya estas moradas se llegan más adonde está el Rey, es grande su hermosura y hay cosas tan delicadas que ver y que entender, que el entendimiento no es capaz para poder dar traza cómo se diga siquiera algo que venga tan al justo que no quede bien oscuro para los que no tienen experiencia; que quien la tiene muy bien lo entenderá, en especial si es mucha.

Parecerá que para llegar a estas moradas se ha de haber vivido en las otras mucho tiempo; y aunque lo ordinario es que se ha de haber estado en la que acabamos de decir, no es regla cierta, como ya habréis oído muchas veces; porque da el Señor cuando quiere y como quiere y a quien quiere, como bienes suyos, que no hace agravio a nadie.

En estas moradas pocas veces entran las cosas ponzoñosas, y si entran no hacen daño, antes dejan con ganancia. Y tengo por muy mejor cuando entran y dan guerra en este estado de oración; porque podría el demonio engañar, a vueltas de los gustos que da Dios, si no hubiese tentaciones, y hacer mucho más daño que cuando las hay, y no ganar tanto el alma, por lo menos apartando todas las cosas que la han de hacer merecer, y dejarla en un embebecimiento ordinario. Que cuando lo es en un ser, no le tengo por seguro ni me parece posible estar en un ser el espíritu del Señor en este destierro.

Pues, hablando de lo que dije que diría aquí, de la diferencia que hay entre contentos en la oración o gustos, los contentos me parece a mí se pueden llamar los que nosotros adquirimos con nuestra meditación y peticiones a nuestro Señor, que procede de nuestro natural, aunque en fin ayuda para ello Dios, que hase de entender en cuanto dijere que no podemos nada sin él; mas nacen de la misma obra virtuosa que hacemos y parece a nuestro trabajo lo hemos ganado, y con razón nos da contento habernos empleado en cosas semejantes. Mas, si lo consideramos, los mismos contentos tendremos en muchas cosas que nos pueden suceder en la tierra: así en una gran hacienda que de presto se provea a alguno; como de ver una persona que mucho amamos, de presto; como de haber acertado en un negocio importante y cosa grande, de que todos dicen bien; como si a alguna le han dicho que es muerto su marido o hermano o hijo y le ve venir vivo. Yo he visto derramar lágrimas de un gran contento, y aun me ha acaecido alguna vez. Paréceme a mí que así como estos contentos son naturales, así en los que nos dan las cosas de Dios, sino que son de linaje más noble, aunque estotros no eran tampoco malos. En fin, comienzan de nuestro natural mismo y acaban en Dios.

Los gustos comienzan de Dios y siéntelos el natural y goza tanto de ellos como gozan los que tengo dichos y mucho más. ¡Oh Jesús, y qué deseo tengo de saber declararme en esto!; porque entiendo, a mi parecer, muy conocida diferencia y no alcanza mi saber a darme a entender. Hágalo el Señor.

Ahora me acuerdo en un verso que decimos a Prima, al fin del postrer salmo, que al cabo del verso dice: Cum dilatasti cor meum. A quien tuviere mucha experiencia, esto le basta para ver la diferencia que hay de lo uno al otro; a quien no, es menester más. Los contentos que están dichos no ensanchan el corazón, antes lo más ordinariamente parece aprietan un poco, aunque con contento todo de ver que se hace por Dios; más vienen unas lágrimas congojosas, que en alguna manera parece las mueve la pasión. Yo sé poco de estas pasiones del alma -que quizá me diera a entender-, y lo que procede de la sensualidad y de nuestro natural, porque soy muy torpe; que yo me supiera declarar, si como he pasado por ello lo entendiera. Gran cosa es el saber y las letras para todo.

Lo que tengo de experiencia de este estado, digo de estos regalos y contentos en la meditación, es que si comenzaba a llorar por la Pasión, no sabía acabar hasta que se me quebrara la cabeza; si por mis pecados, lo mismo. Harta merced me hacía nuestro Señor, que no quiero yo ahora examinar cuál es mejor lo uno o lo otro, sino la diferencia que hay de lo uno a lo otro querría saber decir. Para estas cosas algunas veces van estas lágrimas y estos deseos ayudados del natural y como está la disposición; más, en fin, como he dicho, vienen a parar en Dios, aunque sea esto. Y es de tener en mucho, si hay humildad para entender que no son mejores por eso; porque no se puede entender si son todos efectos del amor, y cuando sea, es dado de Dios.

Por la mayor parte, tienen estas devociones las almas de las moradas pasadas, porque van casi continuo con obra de entendimientos, empleadas en discurrir con el entendimiento y en meditación; y van bien, porque no se les ha dado más, aunque acertarían en ocuparse un rato en hacer actos, y en alabanzas de Dios, y holgarse de su bondad, y que sea el que es, y en desear su honra y gloria. Esto como pudiere, porque despierta mucho la voluntad. Y estén con gran aviso cuando el Señor les dieren estotro no lo dejar por acabar la meditación que se tiene de costumbre.

Porque me he alargado mucho en decir esto en otras partes no lo diré aquí. Solo quiero que estéis advertidas que, para aprovechar mucho en este camino y subir a las moradas que deseamos, no está la cosa en pensar mucho, sino en amar mucho; y así lo que más os despertare a amar, eso haced. Quizá no sabemos qué es amar, y no me espantaré mucho; porque no está en el mayor gusto, sino en la mayor determinación de desear contentar en todo a Dios y procurar, en cuanto pudiéremos, no le ofender, y rogarle que vaya siempre adelante la honra y gloria de su Hijo y el aumento de la Iglesia Católica. Estas son las señales del amor, y no penséis que está la cosa en no pensar otra cosa, y que si os divertís un poco va todo perdido.

Yo he andado en esto de esta barahúnda del pensamiento bien apretada algunas veces, y habrá poco más de cuatro años que vine a entender por experiencia que el pensamiento (o imaginación, porque mejor se entienda) no es el entendimiento, y preguntelo a un letrado y díjome que era así, que no fue para mí poco contento. Porque, como el entendimiento es una de las potencias del alma, hacíaseme recia cosa estar tan tortolito a veces, y lo ordinario vuela el pensamiento de presto, que solo Dios puede atraerle, cuando nos ata a Sí de manera que parece estamos en alguna manera desatados de este cuerpo. Yo veía, a mi parecer, las potencias del alma empleadas en Dios y estar recogidas con él, y por otra parte el pensamiento alborotado: traíame tonta.

¡Oh Señor, tomad en cuenta lo mucho que pasamos en este camino por falta de saber! Y es el mal que, como no pensamos que hay que saber más de pensar en Vos, aun no sabemos preguntar a los que saben ni entendemos qué hay que preguntar, y pásanse terribles trabajos, porque no nos entendemos, y lo que no es malo, sino bueno, pensamos que es mucha culpa. De aquí proceden las aflicciones de mucha gente que trata de oración y el quejarse de trabajos interiores, a lo menos mucha parte en gente que no tiene letras, y vienen las melancolías y a perder la salud y aun a dejarlo del todo, porque no consideran que hay un mundo interior acá dentro; y así como no podemos tener el movimiento del cielo, sino que anda a prisa con toda velocidad, tampoco podemos tener nuestro pensamiento, y luego metemos todas las potencias del alma con él y nos parece que estamos perdidas y gastando mal el tiempo que estamos delante de Dios; y estase el alma por ventura toda junta con él en las moradas muy cercanas, y el pensamiento en el arrabal del castillo padeciendo con mil bestias fieras y ponzoñosas y mereciendo con este padecer; y así, ni nos ha de turbar ni lo hemos de dejar, que es lo que pretende el demonio. Y por la mayor parte, todas las inquietudes y trabajos vienen de este no nos entender.

Escribiendo esto, estoy considerando lo que pasa en mi cabeza del gran ruido de ella que dije al principio, por donde se me hizo casi imposible poder hacer lo que me mandaban a escribir. No parece sino que están en ella muchos ríos caudalosos, y por otra parte, que estas aguas se despeñan; muchos pajarillos y silbos, y no en los oídos, sino en lo superior de la cabeza, adonde dicen que está lo superior del alma. Y yo estuve en esto harto tiempo, por parecer que el movimiento grande del espíritu hacia arriba subía con velocidad. Plega a Dios que se me acuerde en las moradas de adelante decir la causa de esto, que aquí no viene bien, y no será mucho que haya querido el Señor darme este mal de cabeza para entenderlo mejor; porque con toda esta barahúnda de ella, no me estorba a la oración ni a lo que estoy diciendo, sino que el alma se está muy entera en su quietud y amor y deseos y claro conocimiento.

Pues si en lo superior de la cabeza está lo superior del alma, ¿cómo no la turba? Eso no lo sé yo; mas sé que es verdad lo que digo. Pena da cuando no es la oración con suspensión, que entonces hasta que se pasa no se siente ningún mal; mas harto mal fuera si por este impedimento lo dejara yo todo. Y así no es bien que por los pensamientos nos turbemos ni sé nos dé nada; que si los pone el demonio, cesará con esto; y si es, como lo es, de la miseria que nos quedó del pecado de Adán con otras muchas, tengamos paciencia y sufrámoslo por amor de Dios, pues estamos también sujetas a comer y dormir, sin poder excusar, que es harto trabajo.

Conozcamos nuestra miseria, y deseemos ir adonde <<nadie nos menosprecie>>; que algunas veces me acuerdo haber oído esto que dice la Esposa en los Cantares, y verdaderamente que no hallo en toda la vida cosa adonde con más razón se pueda decir; porque todos los menosprecios y trabajos que puede haber en la vida no me parece que llegan a estas batallas interiores. Cualquier desasosiego y guerra se puede sufrir con hallar paz adonde vivimos -como ya he dicho-; mas que queremos venir a descansar de mil trabajos que hay en el mundo y que quiera el Señor aparejarnos el descanso, y que en nosotras mismas esté el estorbo, no puede dejar de ser muy penoso y casi insufridero. Por eso, llevadnos, Señor, adonde no nos menosprecien estas miserias, que parecen algunas veces que están haciendo burla del alma.

Aun en esta vida la libra el Señor de esto, cuando ha llegado a la postrera morada, como diremos, si Dios fuere servido.

Y no darán a todos tanta pena estas miserias ni las acometerán, como a mí hicieron muchos años por ser ruin, que parece que yo misma me quería vengar de mí. Y como cosa tan penosa para mí, pienso que quizás será para vosotras así, y no hago sino decirlo en un cabo y en otro, para si acertase alguna vez a daros a entender cómo es cosa forzosa, y no os traiga inquietas y afligidas, sino que dejemos andar esta tarabilla de molino y molamos nuestra harina, no dejando de obrar la voluntad y entendimiento.

Hay más y menos en este estorbo, conforme a la salud y a los tiempos. Padezca la pobre alma, aunque no tenga en esto culpa, que otras haremos por donde es razón que tengamos paciencia. Y porque no basta lo que leemos y nos aconsejan, que es que no hagamos caso de estos pensamientos, para las que poco sabemos no me parece tiempo perdido todo lo que gasto en declararlo más y consolaros en este caso; mas hasta que el Señor nos quiera dar luz, poco aprovecha. Mas es menester y quiere Su Majestad que tomemos medios y nos entendamos, y lo que hace la flaca imaginación y el natural y demonio, no pongamos la culpa al alma.