"Honestly, I don't quite know what I was doing inside for the next week
or so. Simply everything was altered. I never had any sort of doubt that
she meant what she said, and it was as if there wasn't any sun or moon
or sky. It was like being ill. Things happened round me: I ate and drank
and walked, but the only thing I wanted was to get away, and get down
somewhere into myself and hide. Religion, of course, seemed no good at
all. I don't understand quite what people mean by 'consolations' of
religion. Religion doesn't seem to me a thing like Art or Music, in
which you can take refuge. It either covers everything, or it isn't
religion. Religion never has seemed to me (I don't know if I'm wrong)
one thing, like other things, so that you can change about and back
again.... It's either the background and foreground all in one, or it's
a kind of game. It's either true, or it's a pretense.
"Well, all this, in a way, taught me it was absolutely true. Things
wouldn't have held together at all unless it was true. But it was no
sort of satisfaction. It seemed to me for a while that it was horrible
that it was true; that it was frightful to think that God could be like
that--since this Jenny-business had really happened. But I didn't feel
all this exactly consciously at the time. I seemed as if I was ill, and
could only lie still and watch and be in hell. One thing, however,
Father Hildebrand thought very important (he asked me about it
particularly) was that I honestly did not feel any resentment whatever
against either God or Jenny. It was frightful, but it was true, and I
just had to lie still inside and look at it. He tells me that this shows
that the first part of the 'process,' as he called it, was finished (he
called it the 'Purgative Way'). And I must say that what happened next
seems to fit in rather well.
"The new 'process' began quite suddenly when I awoke in the shepherd's
hut one morning at Ripon. The instant I awoke I knew it. It was very
early in the morning, just before sunrise, but there was a little wood
behind me, and the birds were beginning to chirp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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