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I feel dread when my phone rings these days. This presents a bit of a problem, because I make my living by taking peoples’ calls. The same goes for e-mail. I’ve got more than a week’s worth piling up unanswered.

Part of this I can explain: When I made a promise as an oblate on the altar at the Benedictine community of Saint Walburga, I was serious about cultivating a contemplative life of prayer and at least the semblance of a quiet interior. Ordering your day by the Divine Office is supposed to keep distraction at bay.