I don’t know how long it will be before we are overrun by the hesychasts, but it shouldn’t be long.
The hesychasts, who appeared in the 40s of the 14th century, were orthodox hermits who wanted above all not to be disturbed.
They wanted to focus on thoughtful worship of God and did everything they could to avoid distraction. One technique was to repeat a prayer repeatedly while looking at her navel. Here is the prayer in all its simplicity: “Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
Don’t tell me there are occasions when this wouldn’t really be useful.
When we talk about navel-gazers, we must be talking about hesychasts. The navel-gazing technique is just one of many, but it works: boredom empties the head, leaving it in perfect condition for religious contemplation.
The hesychasts have been mocked for more than six centuries — and it started when they first appeared — but you don’t have to visit Mount Athos to understand that they were right. The hesychasts wanted silence. And time. And nothing to do. Being able to devote all their time to doing what they consider to be the most important thing of all.
In their case, it was prayer. But it can be philosophizing, painting, writing or contemplating nature.
Hesychasm, with some minor modifications, is an attractive response to the dispersion of modern life: it is the opposite of multitasking. Solve the balloon of narcissism with the balloon of divinity: God is by definition superior to the contemplator, however fantastic he may be. He is a selfless version of Hikikomori.
Modern navel gazers admire the navel. The classic – the hesychast – uses the navel because it is boring, because it is easy to neglect it in order to see other, better things.
Who doesn’t like a little quiet, a little peace and having a quiet corner where you can enjoy these little moments for as long as you want? Modern, secular hesychasm can save us all.
(Transcript from PUBLICO)
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