I spent last weekend at St. Joseph’s Monastery in Kentucky on a silent guided retreat: no phones, no books, no words. The nuns sang psalms at the appointed hours. Birds awakened us in the morning.
One became accustomed to the communal silence – at meals, in the halls, in the woods. Smiles passed between us carrying everything.
I thought I might feel like the Little Mermaid and did not. Instead I felt quiet, restful, and open, except for the night I was agitated – but that is not limited to the grounds of a monastery. In the dark, prayer is always an option and sometimes a relief.
Here are some things I saw:
A path named for a girl
where daisy fleabane bloomed,
blackberries began to ripen,
and the leaves on the redbud trees proclaimed that the world was new again.
The ferns stayed hushed, deeper in the woods.
The path held tokens here and there. (Hello, they said.)
Three butterflies haunted the woods: exactly three.
There was a place to sit,
some quiet friends,
and more than one mystery.
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Elsewhere I saw a girl with long hair in a gorgeous coat
and a tree with a frankly unbelievable flower – pansy? orchid? snapdragon?
I saw a place where someone left their heart, or opened it.
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My mother made banana bread and left it in the dining hall (or it may have been a nun who made it; my mother is dead). I took it to my room and ate it by the light of the green shade lamp.
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You too can go on silent retreat with Dovehouse Ministries. I’m happy to tell you more about it – email me @jenniferhpuryear@gmail.com.