The Sound of Silence

One of the best days happened today.  In the middle of a stormy season of life, I traveled to the Abbey of New Clairvaux for a "Quiet Day" with the women's group from our church.  I hopped into a car full of women I barely knew to carpool down I-5 to a Trappist monastery.  Our only agenda was to be quiet. 

Turns out that was enough.

I brought a book along in case I wanted to spend some time reading.  Didn't get to it.

I was busy being quiet.  All day.

I also brought a notebook with me and did a little writing.  It wasn't eloquent.  It wasn't really organized or earth-shattering. I just picked up the notebook and wrote down anything I saw, heard or felt sitting under the canopy of my giant tree.  So, if you're wondering what a quiet day looks or feels like, here's a glimpse of my experience.

Ants dropping in.
Bird pooped on my ankle.
Bees busy buzzing.
Weeds not giving up.
Birds soaring.
Dragonflies bobbing on the breeze.
UPS delivery.
Fountain percolating the soundtrack for our day.
Careful tending of juvenile grape vines.
Traffic distant.
Worlds away.
Unplugged.
Sun slowly warming.
Women strolling.  Reading.  Resting.  Writing.  Listening.  Looking.
Snacks.
Gentle breezes.
Open mind.  Agenda-less.
Dust moving in.
Thick redwoods.  Lush.
Tree dropping leaves, twigs, bugs.
Inner-circle focus.
In the moment.  Noticing details.
Breathe.  Pray.
Sun peeking through thick, shady branches.
Thankful heart.
Blessings abound.  Challenges abound.
Support.  Concrete.
Relax.  Soak in silence.
Breezes beating back the heat.
Off the hamster wheel.
Clovers in abundance.
No pictures.  Just feelings, senses and words.
Surrender.  THIS is important, not a luxury.
Ambitious branches reaching for the ground.
Running shoes are neglected.
Trains loud and close.
Monks in blue jeans and coveralls. Old and young.
Sacred stones framing vineyards.
Stark chapel.  No-frills. Basic.  Simple.
Walnuts.  Giant ones.
Voices chatting.
Grapes, vines.
Soothe.  Pause.  Quality time.