Secret Vita
Ovid’s Amores were not yet on our lips
(they were to circulate a little later.) It was Cicero’s kiss of friendship that St. Aelred tasted, found the sweeter. In the Vita Aelredi Daniel tells how Rievaulx’s tall thin abbot strove to sublimate his carnal desire to God’s eternal love — long hours of submersion in the cold-plunge he had built was how the young Cistercian assuaged his body’s guilt. The mortal fight against the flesh was high on his agenda, the strength of will to push away nocturnal hands that wander: swiftest smile, nod or sigh, these were permitted signs of love; yet in his heart he approved each happy lie, and reasoned to forgive his monks of fantasies that were just the same as his. Thus, in cloister or in Chapter House, he deemed holding hands to be virtuous. And he struggled on into middle age, waging war against his vices: the daily plunge to quell the urge brought consumption, arthritis. Yet Daniel says his body shone as it was laid to rest— except for one small cloud which hung above the seat of lust.
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