This is day six of a six day series expressing my time, day by day, spent in silent retreat at Abbey of Gesthemani, December 10-17.

It was an amazing week and I will probably be writing about it for quite a while, at least in my own journals. As these finish up posting, John and I would’ve been well into our week on a beach, celebrating my birthday and the coming Christmas holiday. Celebrating; did I mention celebrating? Through many channels I’ve been given the nudge to celebrate. To take on a light-heartedness and enjoy, en-joy my days. I’ve decided to give it a real go 🙂

Perhaps you’ll be hearing about this beach-ness week, next week….

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I visited the cows. Again.

I needed to share some news with them.

I’ve had my revelation. I’ve gotten what I came for. That thing I had no idea what was, and didn’t expect to arrive once here; that thing…

Not that I’m ready to leave, and not that I can go off and jump into something straight away. In fact, there is nothing really all that tangible and concrete to take away…. Just the inside stuff doing that stuff that happens when stuff happens~

Not even really any words to give it, so you wont here any more. But I point it out because it did; happen. And you all should know that in case you want to give this silent retreat thing a try for yourself…..

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We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should obey the eternal rhythm.

Zorba the Greek

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One of the monks died in the night. 2am to be exact. Just when I awoke.

I have an inkling this week might have something to do with dying….

I overhead the kitchen staff talking to another brother as I sat in the cafeteria after breakfast. No one else was around; I suspect they didn’t know I was there.

I found it surprising that neither knew his age, or from what he died. Perhaps these details are irrelevant in a cloistered monastery, but then, why do I choose that as logic in this instance…?

It gave me a start regardless. That is one death and three death anniversaries all in the week I have been here, beginning December 10 with Father Louis Merton: Thomas Merton as the world knows him.

Again I remind myself, everyone must die, but all this week these things, have fallen front and center to my consciousness; not slipping around my attention but grabbing it, in each and every case.

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Road markers on a journey I didn’t even know I was taking.

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New faces are here.

The week retreatants have departed and the weekend arrived. Breakfast this morning is the first I’ve crossed any of their paths since I don’t go down to supper (final, light meal of the day) (bread pilfered from lunch, with a can of soup carried in or Skippy creamy take-away packet stolen at breakfast get me by, as I hole away the final evenings hours doing just this; typing my days recollections).

The variety of people traveling here astounds me; I wonder if I will ever understand it. What draws this variety to this remote, very intentional, place? Who seeks after silence and the simplest of accommodations? And what do they come seeking?

When I planned this week, over two months ago, I thought I was coming to write.

Honestly though, imagining being here simply gave me a tremendous sense of peace, and I wanted that.

That’s a surprising statement since when I was here last in August 2016 for a weekend retreat, I left and out loud said ‘I’ll never do that again!’

So what changed? And what did I come to here to do, in the end?

I suppose just what I said above; enjoy the sense of peace I was anticipating. And yet I always hope for more….

So I can’t deny I expected something big. 

I’d just made some pretty huge decisions, decisions without any real evidence of correctness in the tangible world, and while I felt fairly confident I’d chosen well, I still wanted more confirmation.

Ergo, it was all a setup.

Two months ago: go get some of that peace.

A month ago: make a huge decision without tangible evidence of ‘alrightness’.

A week ago: arrive with one set of clothing, pajamas, three journals and an intention to meditate, hike the trails, and sit in the library among heaps of Merton books, until I couldn’t stand myself.

If you couldn’t infer from my weeks posts, and the intro italic here, it worked. 

While no more tangible evidence (and I keep trying to give it form, so I can go home to John and show him SOMETHING!), I know more, that I made a very good, very right, choice.

And I know more that I will persevere, regardless of challenges, to live out what I have set on this path to discover and grow in.

In short, I trust it.

And more even, I trust myself.

A little bit more than before.

And not as much as I will tomorrow.

I get to.

Still.

Whew. Thank you God. I knew you were here all along….

in love.

trish