Sounds of Silence

I spent the last 3 days at a Benedictine Monastary in Mission BC. It's called Westminster Abbey. I've been on this journey into the spiritual disciplines of silence and solitude, ever since re-reading the chapter on solitude in "Celebration of Discipline" by Richard Foster.

It's odd - I am quite extroverted - I get energized mixing it up with people. Yet, I am drawn into this discipline of deliberately pulling away from others.

The idea was to spend as much time as possible alone, and in silence. This was pretty easy to do, as I barely ever saw any of the Monks, except at meal time. But, they eat all their meals in silence.

The first time I walked into the dining hall I was pretty freaked out. 25 men in intimidating black monk habits standing in silence during the prayer. I was wearing jeans and a hoodie - at least I had a hood.

I journalled the whole time I was there. The first thing I noticed when I sat down at my desk in my room is that my ears were ringing -kind of like when you get home after a night at a loud club or concert. I notice this often happens, when I go camping, or go to one of the Gulf Islands. My ears are trying to adjust to the absence of noises. Right now, in my apartment I hear the clicking of the computer keys, Elvis Costello in my speakers and the constant drone of traffic 26 floors below.

I am no stranger to personal retreats - I do about 3-4/yr. But, on those I usually take a pile of books that I try to plow through. This time, after consulting with my spiritual director, I bravely took only a Bible and my journal.

This kind of retreat was tough: no computer, no internet, no tv, no music, no ipod, and NO BOOKS!!! I had a cel phone on which I called home at dinner time to talk with the family, but that was it.

It was quite the experience, and one I would recommend everyone do at some point. Only in solitude, can you encounter the "real you". Most of us live out societally prescribed roles, and are incapable of encountering the real self that lives within us.

You can also encounter God in such a way that is made impossible by the crazy frenetic pace of most of our lives. I find it especially pronounced living where I do. I live in downtown Vancouver. I am constantly buffeted by taxis, buses, the homeless, random pedestrians and just general noise.