Saint Teresa of Ávila / Las Moradas
Fourth Dwelling.
Chapter 3.
About this chapter
Teresa describes a recollection in which God gently draws the soul towards Himself. She encourages receiving it without forcing the mind and recognising its fruits in greater inner freedom, trust, and readiness to serve, while also caring for one’s health.
Editorial summary from the website; it is not part of Saint Teresa’s text.Adapted: an editorial English translation of the website’s Spanish adaptation. Original: Saint Teresa’s Spanish text (1577), preserved without translation.
Adapted text
Fourth Dwelling
Chapter 3 | Adapted text
The effects of this prayer are many. I will mention some, and first I will speak of another form of prayer that almost always begins before this one. Since I have spoken of it elsewhere, I will say little.
It is a recollection that also seems supernatural to me, because it does not consist in being in darkness, or closing one's eyes, or anything outward. Although, without intending it, one does close one's eyes and wish to be alone. And without forcing it, it seems that the building is being prepared for the prayer I have already described; for the senses and outward things gradually lose their hold, so that the soul begins to recover the command she had lost.
People say that ‘the soul enters into herself,’ and at other times that ‘she rises above herself.’ I would not know how to explain much in that language, because I have this fault: I think that if I say it as I understand it, you will understand me too, when perhaps I am the only one who understands myself.
Let us imagine that these senses and faculties, which I have already said are like the inhabitants of this castle, have gone outside and have spent days and years among strangers who are enemies of the castle's well-being. But seeing their ruin, they have begun to come back toward it, though they have not quite entered yet, because habit has great power. They are no longer traitors, but they still linger around it.
Then the great King, who is in the dwelling within this castle, sees their goodwill and, in His great mercy, wishes to bring them back to Himself. Like a good shepherd, with a whistle so gentle that they themselves can scarcely make it out, He makes them recognize His voice and cease wandering so far astray, returning instead to their dwelling. And this shepherd's whistle has such power that they leave the outward things that were distracting them and enter the castle.
I think I have never explained it as clearly as I have now. When God grants this grace, it is a great help in seeking Him within, where He is found more readily and with greater benefit than among created things, as Saint Augustine says he found Him after searching in many places.
Do not think this happens through the understanding, by trying to think of God within oneself, or through the imagination, by picturing Him inside oneself. That is good and is an excellent form of meditation, because it rests on a truth: that God is within us. But it is not what I am speaking of, because anyone can pursue that with the Lord's help.
What I mean happens in another way. Sometimes, before one begins to think of God, these inhabitants are already inside the castle, and I do not know where or how they heard their shepherd's whistle. It was not through their ears, for nothing is heard; but one clearly feels a gentle recollection inward, as anyone who experiences it will see, because I cannot explain it any better.
I think I have read that it is like a hedgehog or a tortoise drawing inward, and whoever wrote that must have understood it well. But they draw inward when they wish; here it does not depend on our will, but on when God wishes to grant us this grace.
I believe that when His Majesty grants it, He gives it to people who are already loosening their hold on worldly things. I do not mean that they necessarily do so in their actions, because some people's state of life does not allow it, but in their desire, for God calls them in a particular way to attend to inward things. And so I believe that if we wish to make room for His Majesty, He will give more than this to those He begins to call to something greater.
Anyone who recognizes this experience in herself should praise God greatly, for it is only right that she understand the grace she has received. And thanking Him for that grace will prepare her to receive greater ones.
This also prepares the soul to listen, as some books advise: not to try to reason too much, but to remain attentive to see what the Lord is doing in her. For if His Majesty has not begun to recollect us and draw us into Himself, I do not see how we could force thought to be still without doing more harm than good.
Although this matter has been much debated among some spiritual people, I confess my lack of humility: they have never given me a reason that persuades me to yield to what they say. Someone cited a certain book by the holy Friar Peter of Alcántara, whom I do believe to be a saint, and to him I would have yielded, because I know he understood these things. We read it, and it says the same as I do, though not in these same words. But what he says makes it clear that love must already have been awakened.
I may be mistaken, but I offer these reasons:
The first: in this work of the spirit, the less one thinks and the less one tries to do on one's own, the more one does. What we should do is ask like poor people in need before a great and wealthy emperor; then lower our eyes and wait humbly.
When, through His secret ways, we seem to understand that He hears us, then it is fitting to be silent, for He has allowed us to be near Him. And it will do no harm to try to keep the understanding from working so hard, if we can.
But if we do not yet understand that this King has heard us or is looking at us, we should not remain there like fools. For the soul becomes rather like that when she tries to do this, and the imagination can become much drier, and perhaps more restless, because of the effort made to think of nothing. Instead, the Lord wants us to ask Him and to consider that we are in His presence, because He knows what is good for us.
I cannot persuade myself to use human methods in matters to which His Majesty seems to have set a limit and which He has chosen to reserve for Himself. By contrast, He has left us many other things that we can do with His help, such as penances, works, and prayer, as far as our frailty allows.
The second: all these inward workings are gentle and peaceful, and doing something forced or burdensome does more harm than good.
By burdensome I mean the force we try to exert upon ourselves, just as trying to hold our breath would be burdensome. What is fitting is to leave the soul in God's hands, so that He may do with her as He wishes, forgetting our own advantage as much as possible and surrendering as fully as possible to God's will.
The third: the very effort to think of nothing may stir thought into action and make it think much more.
The fourth: what matters most and is most pleasing to God is that we remember His honor and glory and forget ourselves, our own advantage, our consolation, and our pleasure.
How, then, can someone be forgetful of herself when she is so intent on not moving or becoming distracted that she does not even allow her understanding and desires to turn toward God, to desire His greater glory or rejoice in the glory He already has?
When His Majesty wishes the understanding to stop, He Himself occupies it in another way. He gives it a light and knowledge so far above anything we can attain that the understanding is absorbed. Then, without knowing how, it is taught far better than through all our human efforts, which can sometimes get in the way instead.
For God gave us the faculties of the soul so that we might work with them, and that work has its reward. So we should not force them into sleep or stillness, but let them do their work until God leads them to a higher one.
As I understand it, when the Lord has chosen to bring the soul into this dwelling, what she should chiefly do is what I have already said: try, without force or commotion, to restrain the understanding's excessive reasoning a little; but not try to suspend it altogether or force herself to think of nothing.
Instead, the soul should remember that she is before God, and who this God is. If what she feels within gently recollects her toward Him, that is well; let it happen. But she should not try to understand what is taking place, because this is not given to the understanding to analyze, but to the will to enjoy. Let her allow the will to enjoy it, without seeking methods or making efforts, beyond a few loving words. For although we do not try here to think of nothing, that often happens of itself, even if only for a very short time.
But, as I said elsewhere, something particular happens in this kind of prayer. I mean the prayer with which I began this dwelling, although I have also brought in the prayer of recollection here, which I ought to have explained first. This prayer of recollection is much less than the delights of God I have described, but it is a beginning that leads to them. In the prayer of recollection, one should not abandon meditation or the work of the understanding.
In this spring that flows directly, and not through channels, the understanding stops of itself, or God makes it stop, because it sees that it cannot understand what it wishes to understand. Then it becomes as though bewildered: it moves from one idea to another, unable to settle on any.
Meanwhile, the will is so steadfast and so occupied with her God that the understanding's restlessness causes her great annoyance. For that reason she need not pay attention to it, because if she does, she will lose much of what she is enjoying. It is best to leave the understanding alone and abandon herself to the arms of love. His Majesty will teach her what she should do at that moment, which is almost always to acknowledge herself unworthy of so great a blessing and devote herself to giving Him thanks.
In speaking of the prayer of recollection, I left until later the effects or signs that remain in souls to whom God our Lord gives this prayer.
One of these signs is a clearly noticeable inward expansion of the soul. It is as though the water flowing from a spring did not run outward, but the spring itself were so made that the more water flowed, the larger the structure containing it became.
Something like this seems to happen in this prayer, and in many other wonders God works in the soul: He gradually increases her capacity and prepares her to receive all that He wishes to give her.
This gentleness and inward expansion become apparent afterward in the fact that the soul is no longer so constrained or limited as before in the things of God's service, but has much greater inward freedom.
Thus the soul no longer feels so constrained by the fear of hell. Although she retains a greater fear of offending God, servile fear, the fear that arises only from punishment, is lost here. In its place remains a great confidence that she will come to enjoy God.
Before, when she thought of doing penance, she might fear losing her health. Now she feels that she will be able to do all things in God, and has a greater desire to do penance than before.
The fear she used to have of hardships and suffering also begins to lessen, because her faith is more alive. The soul understands that if she undergoes them for God, His Majesty will give her grace to bear them patiently. And sometimes she even desires them, because there also remains in her a strong wish to do something for God.
As she comes to know God's greatness more, she regards herself as more wretched. And since she has already tasted the delights of God, she sees worldly pleasures as rubbish. So she gradually draws away from them and has greater mastery of herself in doing so.
In the end, she is improved in all the virtues and will continue to grow, provided she does not turn back by offending God. For then everything is lost, however high the soul may have risen.
Nor should it be understood that because God grants this grace to a soul once or twice, all these things are already accomplished in her. It is necessary to persevere in receiving these graces, because all our good lies in that perseverance.
I strongly warn anyone who finds herself in this state of one thing: take great care not to place yourself in situations where you may offend God. For here the soul is not yet strong or fully formed, but like a child who is only beginning to feed. And if that child is taken from its mother's breast, what can be expected but that it will die?
That is why I greatly fear that something similar may happen to a person whom God has granted this grace if she gives up prayer. Unless there is a very serious reason, or she returns to it soon, she will go from bad to worse.
I know there is much to fear in this. I know some people who have caused me great sorrow, and I have seen what I describe happen, because they drew away from Him who so lovingly wished to give Himself to them as a friend, and showed it to them in His deeds.
That is why I warn so strongly against placing oneself in occasions of sin. For the devil makes a much greater effort over one of these souls than over many others to whom the Lord has not given these graces. The reason is that these souls can greatly frustrate the devil's plans by helping others draw near to God, and can also do much good in the Church.
And even if there were no other reason, the mere sight of His Majesty showing them a particular love is enough to make the devil do all he can to bring about their ruin. That is why they are so fiercely attacked; and if they are lost, they often become more lost than others.
You, sisters, are free from these dangers, at least as far as we can understand. May God preserve you from pride and vainglory.
And if the devil should wish to imitate these graces falsely, it will be recognized because he will not produce these effects, but their very opposite.
There is one danger I want to warn you about, although I have already mentioned it elsewhere. I have seen people devoted to prayer fall into it, especially women, because, being more delicate by nature, what I am about to describe can happen more easily.
Some people have a weak constitution because of much penance, prayer, and keeping vigil, or even without these things. Then, when they receive some consolation, their physical nature takes over. Since they feel a certain inward contentment together with outward weariness and weakness, and also a kind of sleep they call spiritual, somewhat stronger than what I have already described, they think one thing is the same as the other and allow themselves to be absorbed.
And the more they let themselves go, the more absorbed they become, because their physical nature grows weaker. In their judgment, this seems to be rapture, that is, a deep spiritual experience in which the soul is absorbed in God; but I call it stupor, because it is nothing but wasting time there and wearing out one's health. One person even spent eight hours like this, without truly being beside herself or feeling anything of God.
This passed for that person through sleeping, eating, and doing less penance, because someone understood her condition well. She had misled her confessor, other people, and herself, although she had no wish to deceive anyone. I also think the devil must have made some effort to profit from this, and was already gaining quite a lot.
It must be understood that when something is truly from God, although there may be a certain inward and outward weariness, the soul is not left weakened. On the contrary, she has a very vivid awareness of being so close to God. Besides, this does not last for so long, but only a very short time, although she may afterward become recollected again.
And in this prayer, if it is not a matter of weakness, as I have already said, it does not normally reach the point of making the body collapse or producing very strong outward signs.
So be attentive: when you feel this in yourselves, tell the superior and try to occupy your attention elsewhere as much as you can. The superior should see that you do not spend so many hours in prayer, but very few, and should make sure that you sleep well and eat well until your natural strength returns, if this is what caused you to lose it.
And if anyone is so weak by nature that she does not improve even with this, believe me: God does not want her for that kind of prayer, but for the active life. There must be all kinds in monasteries. Let her be occupied with duties, and always take care that she does not spend too much time alone, because she could lose her health altogether.
That will be mortification enough for her. This is where the Lord wishes to test her love for Him: in how she bears the absence of that prayer. And perhaps God will choose to restore her strength after some time. If He does not restore it, she will gain through vocal prayer and obedience, and will merit what she would have merited by that other path, and perhaps more.
There may also be some people whose minds and imaginations are so weak, as I have known them to be, that everything they think of seems to them to be something they are actually seeing. This is quite dangerous.
Perhaps this will be discussed later. For now I will say no more, because I have already dwelt at great length on this dwelling. I have done so because I believe it is one of the dwellings that more souls enter. Besides, since the natural and the supernatural are mingled here, the devil can do more harm. In the dwellings still to be explained, the Lord does not give him so much room.
May God be praised forever. Amen.
Original text (1577)
Cuarta Morada
Capítulo 3 | Texto original (1577)
Los efectos de esta oración son muchos: algunos diré, y primero, otra manera de oración que comienza casi siempre primero que esta, y por haberla dicho en otras partes, diré poco. Un recogimiento que también me parece sobrenatural, porque no es estar en oscuro ni cerrar los ojos, ni consiste en cosa exterior, puesto que, sin quererlo, se hace esto de cerrar los ojos y desear soledad; y sin artificio parece que se va labrando el edificio para la oración que queda dicha; porque estos sentidos y cosas exteriores parece que van perdiendo de su derecho porque el alma vaya cobrando el suyo que tenía perdido.
Dicen que <<el alma se entra dentro de sí>> y otras veces que <<sube sobre sí>>. Por este lenguaje no sabré yo aclarar nada, que esto tengo malo que por el que yo lo sé decir pienso que me habéis de entender, y quizás será sola para mí. Hagamos cuenta que estos sentidos y potencias (que ya he dicho que son la gente de este castillo, que es lo que he tomado para saber decir algo), que se han ido fuera y andan con gente extraña, enemiga del bien de este castillo, días y años; y que ya se han ido, viendo su perdición, acercando a él, aunque no acaban de estar dentro -porque esta costumbre es recia cosa-, sino no son ya traidores y andan alrededor. Visto ya el gran Rey, que está en la morada de este castillo, su buena voluntad, por su gran misericordia, quiérelos tornar a él y, como buen pastor, con un silbo tan suave, que aun casi ellos mismos no le entienden, hace que conozcan su voz y que no anden tan perdidos, sino que se tornen a su morada. Y tiene tanta fuerza este silbo del pastor, que desamparan las cosas exteriores en que estaban enajenados y métense en el castillo.
Paréceme que nunca lo he dado a entender como ahora, porque para buscar a Dios en lo interior (que se halla mejor y más a nuestro provecho que en las criaturas, como dice San Agustín que le halló, después de haberle buscado en muchas partes), es gran ayuda cuando Dios hace esta merced. Y no penséis que es por el entendimiento adquirido procurando pensar dentro de sí a Dios, ni por la imaginación, imaginándole en sí. Bueno es esto y excelente manera de meditación, porque se funda sobre verdad, que lo es estar Dios dentro de nosotros mismos; mas no es esto, que esto cada uno lo puede hacer (con el favor del Señor se entiende todo). Mas lo que digo es en diferente manera, y que algunas veces, antes que se comience a pensar en Dios, ya esta gente está en el castillo, que no sé por dónde ni cómo oyó el silbo de su pastor. Que no fue por los oídos, que no se oye nada, más siéntese notablemente un encogimiento suave a lo interior, como verá quien pasa por ello, que yo no lo sé aclarar mejor. Paréceme que he leído que como un erizo o tortuga, cuando se retiran hacia sí, y debíalo de entender bien quien lo escribió. Mas estos, ellos se entran cuando quieren; acá no está en nuestro querer sino cuando Dios nos quiere hacer esta merced. Tengo para mí que cuando Su Majestad la hace es a personas que van ya dando de mano a las cosas del mundo. No digo que sea por obra los que tienen estado que no pueden, sino por el deseo, pues los llama particularmente para que estén atentos a las interiores; y así creo que, si queremos dar lugar a Su Majestad, que no dará solo esto a quien comienza a llamar para más.
Alábale mucho quien esto entendiere en sí, porque es muy mucha razón que conozca la merced, y el hacimiento de gracias por ella hará que se disponga para otras mayores. Y es disposición para poder escuchar, como se aconseja en algunos libros, que procuren no discurrir, sino estarse atentos a ver qué obra el Señor en el alma. Que si Su Majestad no ha comenzado a embebernos, no puedo acabar de entender cómo se pueda detener el pensamiento de manera que no haga más daño que provecho, aunque ha sido contienda bien platicada entre algunas personas espirituales, y de mí confieso mi poca humildad que nunca me han dado razón para que yo me rinda a lo que dicen. Uno me alegó con cierto libro del santo Fray Pedro de Alcántara -que yo creo lo es- a quien yo me rindiera, porque sé que lo sabía; y leímoslo y dice lo mismo que yo, aunque no por estas palabras; mas entiéndase en lo que dice que ha de estar ya despierto el amor. Ya puede ser que yo me engañe, mas voy por estas razones:
La primera, que en esta obra de espíritu quien menos piensa y quiere hacer, hace más; lo que habemos de hacer es pedir como pobres necesitados delante de un grande y rico emperador, y luego bajar los ojos y esperar con humildad. Cuando por sus secretos caminos parece que entendemos que nos oye, entonces es bien callar, pues nos ha dejado estar cerca de él, y no será malo procurar no obrar con el entendimiento, si podemos digo. Mas si este Rey aun no entendemos que nos ha oído ni nos ve, no nos hemos de estar bobos, que lo queda harto el alma cuando ha procurado esto, y queda mucho más seca y por ventura más inquieta la imaginación con la fuerza que se ha hecho a no pensar nada, sino que quiere el Señor que le pidamos y consideremos estar en su presencia, que él sabe lo que nos cumple. Yo no puedo persuadirme a industrias humanas en cosas que parece puso Su Majestad límite y las quiso dejar para Sí; lo que no dejó otras muchas que podemos con su ayuda, así de penitencia, como de obras, como de oración, hasta donde puede nuestra miseria.
La segunda razón es que estas obras interiores son todas suaves y pacíficas, y hacer cosa penosa, antes daña que aprovecha. Llamo penosa fuerza que nos queramos hacer, como sería pena detener el huelgo; sino dejarse el alma en las manos de Dios, haga lo que quisiere de ella, con el mayor descuido de su provecho que pudiere y mayor resignación a la voluntad de Dios.
La tercera es que el mismo cuidado que se pone en no pensar nada quizá despertará el pensamiento a pensar mucho.
La cuarta es que lo más sustancial y agradable a Dios es que nos acordemos de su honra y gloria y nos olvidemos de nosotros mismos y de nuestro provecho y regalo y gusto. Pues, ¿cómo está olvidado de sí el que con mucho cuidado está, que no se osa bullir, ni aun deja a su entendimiento y deseos que se bullan a desear la mayor gloria de Dios, ni que se huelgue de la que tiene? Cuando Su Majestad quiere que el entendimiento cese, ocúpale por otra manera y da una luz en el conocimiento tan sobre la que podemos alcanzar, que le hace quedar absorto, y entonces, sin saber cómo, queda muy mejor enseñado que no con todas nuestras diligencias para echarle más a perder; que pues Dios nos dio las potencias para que con ellas trabajásemos y se tiene todo su premio, no hay para qué las encantar, sino dejarlas hacer su oficio, hasta que Dios las ponga en otro mayor.
Lo que entiendo que más conviene que ha de hacer el alma que ha querido el Señor meter a esta morada es lo dicho, y que sin ninguna fuerza ni ruido procure atajar el discurrir del entendimiento, mas no el suspenderle ni el pensamiento, sino que es bien que se acuerde que está delante de Dios y quién es este Dios. Si lo mismo que siente en sí le embebiere, enhorabuena; mas no procure entender lo que es, porque es dado a la voluntad; déjela gozar sin ninguna industria más de algunas palabras amorosas, que aunque no procuremos aquí estar sin pensar nada, se está muchas veces, aunque muy breve tiempo.
Mas -como dije en otra parte- la causa porque en esta manera de oración (digo en la que comencé esta morada, que he metido la de recogimiento con esta que había de decir primero, y es muy menos que la de los gustos que he dicho de Dios, sino que es principio para venir a ella; que en la del recogimiento no se ha de dejar la meditación, ni la obra del entendimiento)..., en esta fuente manantial que no viene por arcaduces él se comide o le hace comedir ver que no entiende lo que quiere; y así anda de un cabo a otro, como tonto que en nada hace asiento. La voluntad le tiene tan grande en su Dios, que la da gran pesadumbre su bullicio, y así no ha menester hacer caso de él, que la hará perder mucho de lo que goza, sino dejarle y dejarse a sí en los brazos del amor, que Su Majestad la enseñará lo que ha de hacer en aquel punto, que casi todo es hallarse indigna de tanto bien y emplearse en hacimiento de gracias.
Por tratar de la oración de recogimiento, dejé los efectos o señales que tienen las almas a quien Dios nuestro Señor da esta oración. Así como se entiende claro un dilatamiento o ensanchamiento en el alma, a manera de como si el agua que mana de una fuente no tuviese corriente, sino que la misma fuente estuviese labrada de una cosa que mientras más agua manase más grande se hiciese el edificio, así parece en esta oración y otras muchas maravillas que hace Dios en el alma, que la habilita y va disponiendo para que quepa todo en ella. Así esta suavidad y ensanchamiento interior se ve en el que le queda para no estar tan atada como antes en las cosas del servicio de Dios, sino con mucha más anchura:
Así en no se apretar con el temor del infierno, porque aunque le queda mayor de no ofender a Dios, el servil piérdese aquí; queda con gran confianza que le ha de gozar. El que solía tener, para hacer penitencia, de perder la salud, ya le parece que todo lo podrá en Dios; tiene más deseos de hacerla que hasta allí. El temor que solía tener a los trabajos, ya va más templado; porque está más viva la fe y entiende que, si los pasa por Dios, Su Majestad le dará gracia para que los sufra con paciencia, y aun algunas veces los desea, porque queda también una gran voluntad de hacer algo por Dios. Como va más conociendo su grandeza, tiénese ya por más miserable; como ha probado ya los gustos de Dios, ve que es una basura los del mundo, vase poco a poco apartando de ellos y es más señora de sí para hacerlo. En fin, en todas las virtudes queda mejorada y no dejará de ir creciendo, si no torna atrás ya a hacer ofensas de Dios, porque entonces todo se pierde por subida que esté un alma en la cumbre. Tampoco se entiende que de una vez o dos que Dios haga esta merced a un alma, quedan todas estas hechas si no van preservando en recibirlas, que en esta perseverancia está todo nuestro bien.
De una cosa aviso mucho a quien se viere en este estado: que se guarde muy mucho de ponerse en ocasiones de ofender a Dios; porque aquí no está aún el alma criada, sino como un niño que comienza a mamar, que si se aparta de los pechos de su madre, ¿qué se puede esperar de él si no la muerte? Yo he mucho temor que a quien Dios hubiere hecho esta merced y se apartare de la oración, que será así, si no es con grandísima ocasión o si no torna presto a ella, porque irá de mal en peor. Yo sé que hay mucho que temer en este caso, y conozco a algunas personas que me tienen harto lastimada y he visto lo que digo, por haberse apartado de quien con tanto amor se les quería dar por amigo y mostrárselo por obras. Aviso tanto que no se pongan en ocasiones, porque pone mucho el demonio más por un alma de estas que por muy muchas a quien el Señor no haga estas mercedes; porque le pueden hacer gran daño con llevar otras consigo, y hacer gran provecho, podría ser, en la Iglesia de Dios; y aunque no haya otra cosa sino ver el que Su Majestad las muestra amor particular, basta para que él se deshaga porque se pierdan; y así son muy combatidas y aun mucho más perdidas que otras, si se pierden.
Vosotras, hermanas, libres estáis de estos peligros, a lo que podemos entender; de soberbia y vanagloria os libre Dios; y de que el demonio quiera contrahacer estas mercedes, conocerse ha en que no hará estos efectos, sino todo al revés.
De un peligro os quiero avisar (aunque os lo he dicho en otra parte) en que he visto caer a personas de oración, en especial mujeres, que como somos más flacas, ha más lugar para lo que voy a decir. Y es que algunas, de la mucha penitencia y oración y vigilias, y aun sin esto, sonse flacas de complexión; en teniendo algún regalo, sujétales el natural, y como sienten contento alguno interior y caimiento en lo exterior y una flaqueza, cuando hay un sueño que llaman espiritual, que es un poco más de lo que queda dicho, paréceles que es lo uno como lo otro y déjanse embebecer. Y mientras más se dejan, se embebecen más, porque se enflaquece más el natural, y en su seso les parece arrobamiento; y llámole yo abobamiento, que no es otra cosa más de estar perdiendo tiempo allí y gastando su salud (a una persona le acaecía estar ocho horas), que ni están sin sentido, ni sienten cosa de Dios. Con dormir y comer y no hacer tanta penitencia, se le quitó a esta persona, porque hubo quien la entendiese, que a su confesor traía engañado y a otras personas y a sí misma, que ella no quería engañar. Bien creo que haría el demonio alguna diligencia para sacar alguna ganancia, y no comenzaba a sacar poca.
Hase de entender que cuando es cosa verdaderamente de Dios, que aunque hay caimiento interior y exterior, que no le hay en el alma, que tiene grandes sentimientos de verse tan cerca de Dios, ni tampoco dura tanto, sino muy poco espacio, bien que se torna a embebecer; y en esta oración, si no es flaqueza -como he dicho- no llega a tanto que derrueque el cuerpo ni haga ningún sentimiento exterior en él. Por eso tengan aviso que cuando sintieren esto en sí, lo digan a la prelada y diviértanse lo que pudieren y hágalas no tener horas tantas de oración sino muy poco, y procure que duerman bien y coman, hasta que se les vaya tornando la fuerza natural, si se perdió por aquí. Si es de tan flaco natural que no le baste esto, créanme que no la quiere Dios sino para la vida activa, que de todo ha de haber en los monasterios; ocúpenla en oficios, y siempre se tenga cuenta que no tenga mucha soledad, porque vendrá a perder del todo la salud. Harta mortificación será para ella; aquí quiere probar el Señor el amor que le tiene en cómo lleva esta ausencia, y será servido de tornarle la fuerza después de algún tiempo, y si no, con oración vocal ganará y con obedecer, y merecerá lo que había de merecer por aquí y por ventura más.
También podría haber algunas de tan flaca cabeza e imaginación -como yo las he conocido- que todo lo que piensan les parecen que lo ven; es harto peligroso. Porque quizá se tratará de ello adelante, no más aquí, que me he alargado mucho en esta morada, porque es en la que más almas creo entran, y como es también natural junto con lo sobrenatural, puede el demonio hacer más daño; que en las que están por decir, no le da el Señor tanto lugar.
Sea por siempre alabado, amén.
