For five days in May, I had the privilege of sinking into silence. As part of my sabbatical, I attended a silent retreat at Mepkin Abbey, a Cistercian monastery near Charleston, SC. As a “busy brain” person, external processor, music lover, and mom to a preschooler, my normal world is filled with speech and sound. Even when the house is quiet, late at night, the dishwasher still whirs and the nearby traffic still races. I was intimidated by the prospect of days of silence, punctuated only by daily worship services with the monks and check-ins with the retreat leader. But who am I going to talk to? Myself?…God?!
Thankfully, this is exactly what happened. As the woodpecker and honeybee-filled hours by the monastery river yawned before me, I felt the steady and wry presence of Jesus walking amiably with me. I recited psalms in the chapel with a dozen contemplative monks. I journaled like crazy. I copied Scripture passages from prayer services or devotionals into my journal and talked out loud to Jesus about what I heard. Music and singing have always been my strongest connections to God’s presence, but the deep quiet helped me listen deeply. It was like being on another planet where the Spirit was audible in ways I thought accessible only to medieval mystics or prophets.
Short of making your own silent monastic retreat (which I enthusiastically recommend; it’s cheaper than you think!), consider building rhythms of silence into your usual life:
- Turn your phone off for several hours in the evening, or set it to call-only for 24 hours.
- Take a tech-free walk in the woods (no phone, no smart watch).
- Keep the radio off in the car and use the driving time to pray for others on the road.
- Experiment with a slow morning routine: walk outside, pet the dog, make a coffee or read a devotional before turning on the tv or checking your phone.
- In the evening, revisit your day in conversation with God or a family member. Who or what helped you see God today? For what should we ask forgiveness? What do we need to ask God for tomorrow?
On the last retreat day, I copied this Scripture into my journal:
You will show me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joys; at your right hand are delights forever. (Psalm 16:11)
I wonder what you will hear in the silence?
Camille Loomis Rehnborg, Minister of Spiritual Formation and Outreach