Saturday, February 17, 2018

Silence on Retreat

Last week, I began an 8-day silent retreat at Loyola House in Guelph, part of the Ignatius Jesuit Centre.  I have never done a silent retreat for this long, my longest begin over a weekend.  We all had our own room, we ate communally but silently, and we each met with a spiritual director for about 30-45 minutes every day. 

Many people told me that they could never do a silent retreat for that long.  I knew it would be challenging, but being silent is not difficult for me and I wondered whether I would settle right into it.  What I discovered is that although I can keep from speaking for a long periods of time, the difficult part is silencing my thoughts.  Becoming still is not just about not moving or speaking; it's about opening yourself to the universe without distractions.  And my thoughts are definitely a distraction. 

I did a lot of praying.  I attended daily mass every day before lunch.  I went for long walks.  I journalled.  I read scripture.  I did a lot of sleeping.  The days become very long when they are not filled with tasks. 

By the end of the eight days, I was ready to be home.  I have realized that I have a lot of work to do.  In the time that I spent connecting with God, I realized that if I'm not doing this on a regular basis, in my daily life, it becomes much more difficult during a time of retreat.  I also realized that I have some emotional blocks from childhood that I still need to work through.  Although I felt lonely during this time and frustrated with my inability to connect with the holy, I learned some valuable lessons that I will continue to work through during my time of sabbatical. 

During my time, I memorized a psalm, which I will carry with me into my times of prayer.  It starts like this:

You, God, are my God.
Earnestly I seek you.
I thirst for you.
My whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched and
where there is no water.  (Psalm 63)

When I first read the psalm, I envisioned my surroundings and maybe my culture as that dry and parched land, but as I kept reading and reciting it, I realized that this dry and parched land lies within me.  During this time of Lent (which began on Wednesday), I will continue to find the time each day to connect with the universe around me and with God and maybe find an oasis. 

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