Starting off
Today, I initiate my attempt at a week-long, personal, silent retreat. My goal is to spend as much time in silent and prayerful reflection as possible, Monday through Friday. I am not overly optimistic that I can be entirely successful.
Normally, I spend my free time (what I have) filling my surroundings with noise: be it internet games, sports, music, or other meaningless distractions. As I write these first few lines, it is Monday, at 9:15 AM, and already I feel myself tempted to turn on some background music. |
"It won't matter," I hear myself thinking. "I can put on some chant music or Catholic Answers. That way it will be related to my reflections."
I struggle against those urges, however, because no matter what sound or however positive, it would still be noise. So, I will not turn it on, at least for now. The only noise I should hear would be raindrops (if it were raining), the wind rustling through the trees, a dog's bark, etc. But, even that is not possible, as I already hear the loud buzz of the landscaper's edger cutting the grass outside. Before too long, the blower of his partner will pass by the window at my side, distracting me even further by creating another loud noise.
Maybe it isn't possible after all to do a personal, silent retreat here in my own home. Maybe it requires a much more serene local in the mountains or at the beach. But that bird's quiet chirping, the sorrowful tooting of the train's whistle, and the look that I am getting from the picture of the sacred heart of Jesus on the wall in front of me each remind me that it really isn't about the external things. It isn't about what is going on outside of me. It is about what is going on in my heart.
Can I quiet what is going on in my head long enough to hear what is going on in my heart? Can I strive enough to remind myself of what is important? I don't want to take myself out of the world, I want to do what I told the young adults to do recently, "bring the 'real' world of Christ's love for us into the one in which I interact daily." Is it possible? It really all depends on me. Am I strong enough? Is my will flexible enough to bend itself onto God's? Am I wise enough to recognize God's will? Can I quiet myself down enough to hear it? Can I sift through my many distractions? I guess that is what I have to wait and see.
I struggle against those urges, however, because no matter what sound or however positive, it would still be noise. So, I will not turn it on, at least for now. The only noise I should hear would be raindrops (if it were raining), the wind rustling through the trees, a dog's bark, etc. But, even that is not possible, as I already hear the loud buzz of the landscaper's edger cutting the grass outside. Before too long, the blower of his partner will pass by the window at my side, distracting me even further by creating another loud noise.
Maybe it isn't possible after all to do a personal, silent retreat here in my own home. Maybe it requires a much more serene local in the mountains or at the beach. But that bird's quiet chirping, the sorrowful tooting of the train's whistle, and the look that I am getting from the picture of the sacred heart of Jesus on the wall in front of me each remind me that it really isn't about the external things. It isn't about what is going on outside of me. It is about what is going on in my heart.
Can I quiet what is going on in my head long enough to hear what is going on in my heart? Can I strive enough to remind myself of what is important? I don't want to take myself out of the world, I want to do what I told the young adults to do recently, "bring the 'real' world of Christ's love for us into the one in which I interact daily." Is it possible? It really all depends on me. Am I strong enough? Is my will flexible enough to bend itself onto God's? Am I wise enough to recognize God's will? Can I quiet myself down enough to hear it? Can I sift through my many distractions? I guess that is what I have to wait and see.
Evening reflection
That doesn't mean that I was entirely successful in my silent retreat efforts. I had multiple distractions throughout the day that kept me from focusing entirely on what I was doing. Family obligations (taking Nico to MJC and then bringing him home, filling up the truck with gas, listening as Giancarlos turned on the Giants vs. Dodgers game for opening day, having Maria come home to start asking me questions) kept breaking up my routine of trying to read and write throughout the day. I also was inspired to bring joy to the family by making chocolate chip cookies. It worked, as each of them had a positive reaction when they saw or smelt them, but the timer kept going off while I was reading.
I was able to read some good books. I read some secular takes on the life of John Paul, the Great, that were written after his death in 2005. I got frustrated by their continual desire to want to paint him in political terms instead of religious terms, but I couldn't help wanting to continue to read more about him, regardless of the spin. I began a book about how to do a personal retreat, based on the Ignatius Spiritual Exercises. I also finished Jesus-shock a book by Peter Kreeft that was given to all at the Easter masses. It is very inspiring, if you have not seen it yet.
I think that the best thing that I did was decide to walk to mass. Normally, like most people, I hop into my truck and drive the mile and a half to church, but walking was more in line with a retreat, so I decided to walk. The weather was perfect. The wind was blowing, the clouds were billowing, the birds were chirping. It was as if all of God's creation was celebrating. Most of what I saw would have just been a blur as I drove to church. I wouldn't have seen the color of the flowers (even the weeds). I would have missed the leaves of the vast variety of trees moving in the wind. I would have missed the smaller houses and the details in the paint. I would have driven right past the small, beautifully ornate snail shell that had been left by its previous owner. Most of all I would have missed the clouds. My eyes kept being drawn upwards to the clouds for some reason. When I came out of mass, I was reminded again, as a friend texted me that "they were God's way of reminding us who's the boss," and I had not even mentioned it to him.
After mass, my distractions continued with a meeting of the Officers of the Knights of Columbus. Ordinarily, I take an active part in the discussions, but that is difficult when one cannot talk. I tried to keep up by writing, but usually, by the time I wrote my idea, got someone to decipher my writing and share with the others, they had already moved on to another topic.
Keep praying for me, that I can be more successful with my efforts tomorrow!
I was able to read some good books. I read some secular takes on the life of John Paul, the Great, that were written after his death in 2005. I got frustrated by their continual desire to want to paint him in political terms instead of religious terms, but I couldn't help wanting to continue to read more about him, regardless of the spin. I began a book about how to do a personal retreat, based on the Ignatius Spiritual Exercises. I also finished Jesus-shock a book by Peter Kreeft that was given to all at the Easter masses. It is very inspiring, if you have not seen it yet.
I think that the best thing that I did was decide to walk to mass. Normally, like most people, I hop into my truck and drive the mile and a half to church, but walking was more in line with a retreat, so I decided to walk. The weather was perfect. The wind was blowing, the clouds were billowing, the birds were chirping. It was as if all of God's creation was celebrating. Most of what I saw would have just been a blur as I drove to church. I wouldn't have seen the color of the flowers (even the weeds). I would have missed the leaves of the vast variety of trees moving in the wind. I would have missed the smaller houses and the details in the paint. I would have driven right past the small, beautifully ornate snail shell that had been left by its previous owner. Most of all I would have missed the clouds. My eyes kept being drawn upwards to the clouds for some reason. When I came out of mass, I was reminded again, as a friend texted me that "they were God's way of reminding us who's the boss," and I had not even mentioned it to him.
After mass, my distractions continued with a meeting of the Officers of the Knights of Columbus. Ordinarily, I take an active part in the discussions, but that is difficult when one cannot talk. I tried to keep up by writing, but usually, by the time I wrote my idea, got someone to decipher my writing and share with the others, they had already moved on to another topic.
Keep praying for me, that I can be more successful with my efforts tomorrow!