The Agony of Acedia

Some 1700 years ago a Christian monk in the Middle East, named Evagrius Ponticus, knew very well the mental suffering that a contemplative faces, when trying to simplify their life and devote their attention to prayer and devotion. Such a lifestyle is largely devoid of numerous distractions that fill the daily existence of a layperson. During those solitary quiet hours when a monk is trying to concentrate on the sacred, the mind too often becomes bedeviled with profane thoughts that lead one off into pernicious mental states.

Evagrius called those thoughts evil, because they obstruct one's spiritual progress, and even cause one to sink into depression. It can seem as if there is no escape, and can cause one to question the monastic path they have been following... even regret their choice to become a contemplative.

Evagrius assembled a list of “eight evil thoughts” that can make the existence of a monk agonizing. They are (1) gluttony, (2) impurity (fornication), (3) avarice (greed), (4) sadness (envy), (5) wrath, (6) acedia (indifference), (7) vainglory (boasting), and (8) pride (arrogance). When these thoughts interfere with prayer and contemplation, they can derail one's spiritual advancement—which is the whole purpose of the monastic life.

Of this list of intrusive and wicked thoughts, Evagrius the monk considered the one that posed the greatest threat was number 6, acedia. The dictionary defines it as “spiritual or mental sloth; apathy.” The root of acedia is the Greek word akedia, which translates as “listlessness,” or “without care.” Acedia bedevils a contemplative; it comes unbidden—one cannot stop its intrusiveness. It's like telling a person not to think about a pink elephant and then chuckling, because you know they can't stop that silly vision from invading their mind.

It is interesting that Evagrius' list of eight evil thoughts became widely accepted in the fourth century monastic community, to the point that Pope Gregory in the sixth century adopted the list, but changed them from “eight evil thoughts” into “seven deadly sins.” They morphed from thoughts to acts—from mental states to deeds. Even more fascinating is that the pope dropped Evagrius' most bedeviling thought: acedia—the one he felt was the major mental demon. I guess that says something about the priorities of the Roman Church.

Let's take a closer look at that mental state called acedia. It's a rather nebulous concept that covers a lot of ground, and encompasses other thoughts such as boredom, torpor, despair, melancholy, ennui, sorrow, and even frantic activity. Evagrius called it the “noonday demon,” because it intrudes at the most vulnerable time of day—causing a monk to despise his duties, destroy his concentration, drag him off into daydreams, and to doubt everything that the monastic life stands for. It makes it seem as though “the sun barely moves, if at all, and that the day is 50 hours long.” It can instill “in the heart of a monk a hatred... for his very life.”

Acedia torments the contemplative precisely because they live the quiet life, and are mindful enough to detect its intrusion when it first pops into mind. It is less of a threat to lay people, because they often fill their lives with distractions that prevent their minds from even noticing it. 

So what can a monk do, to get past the doldrums of acedia? They can't escape into a TV comedy or the corner bar, as a layperson might do. Evagrius' recommendation was to bite the bullet and face it. Go into your cell and deal with it. Face the devil down. That is a frightening prescriptioln, because it is in meditation that acedia throws its worst menace at you. It's like advising one who suffers from arachnophobia to pick up a spider and kiss it. It requires great courage. Monks had, however, the confidence that they were not facing the demon on their own—God would be with them. (Or could their agony sometimes be strong enough that they even doubted God?)

Monastics are not the only people who are bedeviled by acedia. It hits secular people as well. Kathleen Norris wrote a book in 2008, titled Acedia and Me: A Marriage, Monks, and a Writer's Life. She understood the dilemma faced by monks, but also described how widespread acedia can be in society.

It hits lay people differently, however, because they generally are not nearly as mindful and paying attention to their mental states. They are more likely to feel bored, or hopeless; or engage in frantic activity, as a way of attempting to escape their acedia feelings. People in society can come to feel just as bedeviled and lost as a monk, not because they are trying to meditate, but because they have a meaningless job and are leading a shallow life. Lay people, however, are in a position wherein they can find many more distractions than are available to a monk.

Norris writes that people in society who experience acedia often think they are depressed, but there's a key difference for them. Depression usually arises from an external source, that can be identified—and in society one can deal with it through medication and counseling. (It should be noted that modern monks also have access to these treatments.) Acedia—in contrast—rises from within. Thus it's a state of mind best dealt with by spiritual practice. Depression causes one to anguish over one’s glum situation. Acedia causes one to become reduced to a state of indifference—which is a greater evil.

So we all may find ourselves at times suffering from the agony of acedia—monastic or worldly. As with most mental afflictions, trying to run from it is only a temporary effort...  acedia will catch up eventually. I think the best action is to follow Evagrius' recommendation: go within and face the demon. Yes, that takes courage. It can help to realize that acedia is a mental state—it's not a material demon coming after you.