I've never been on retreat before, but there was something so absolutely wonderful about it - that I want to try and explain it.
I hoped that I might sort out a few issues about how I feel about myself, how I feel about my mother, and get on with a lot of writing - I even thought there might be a God element in it (i.e. I might enjoy the religious services).
Some of these things were achieved in a way. As soon as Sister Benedict showed me to the room - with its surprisingly comfortable bed (I want one!) and it's annoyingly small table (not room for a laptop and an open notebook) I settled down and started writing. First I wrote a list of all the things that I'd like to resolve in my diary. Then I opened one of the new A4 notebooks and wrote whatever came into my head. By the end of the afternoon I had mysteriously created 2,500 words on a topic I had not yet thought about in Conscience - but which was going to fit exactly into my scheme for it. It was really exciting. I had expected to plod through the outline of the plot that I sketched out years ago and have been working to - more or less - ever since. I really had not considered having a character who is buried alive in it. Weird.
I went to have supper: the food again was surprising. Not good in a foodie way, very unadorned, no unusual spices or herbs, terribly simple, but very good in itself. Plainly cooked veg like spinach and leeks were just simply good. The table conversations were a bit subdued at first, since none of us knew each other, and on the whole most of the visitors did not seem to be raging conversationalists. Which was restful, however, conversation did flow more freely after a couple of days.
On the first evening I went to compline. It's an enjoyable evening service, which prays for protection against the terrors of the night, but for whatever reason, I wasn't specially moved by it. Some of the settings they sang the prayers to were a bit dull and unfamiliar - however, at the end, the nuns all gathered around a statue of the Virgin - and sang Salve Regina, which was fantastically beautiful. I recognised it as the prayer my grandmother sometimes used to rattle through when she was angry (Catholic answer to counting to 10)* Hail holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, hail our life, our sweetness and our hope.... http://www.ourladyswarriors.org/prayer/hailholy.htm if you want the full thing, you poor banished children of Eve!
*Actually, she didn't always do this - sometimes she just hit us without bothering.
I fully intended to go to other services (although I decided I wouldn't go to Mass because I'm technically an excommunicant and I dislike going to Mass if I can't take communion; yes, it's a bit chippy, sorry) but I decided I would go as and when I had a moment to take a break from writing and reading. Curiously, I didn't. There never was a point when I looked up from writing, or took a break in my research and thought "ooh - Vespers/Tierce/Sext will be starting in a minute - I could go down to the chapel". However, I did some private praying (not enough probably - but more than usual) and I had one or two discussion about faith and issues that arose in living as an "out" Christian... but typically, most of the people there were more active in churches or had a strong Christian community behind them - so a freelance, self-employed Christian like me - most of whose friends were atheists - was something a little odd to them. I always seem to be "the cat that walked by itself" but I'm used to it. In addition I chose myself a "devotional book" to read - Why there almost certainly is a god by Keith Ward. I didn't manage to finish it - but I liked the ideas about how new scientific ideas (my old friend cosmology etc.) have now rather overwhelmed the scientific materialist arguments for atheism. Yay! for quantum mechanics - I will never be rude about Dark Energy again!
Apart from the unusual bit of writing on the first day, nothing spectacular happened to me on retreat - but there was a most enormous flood of insight into things, solutions to problems, new perceptions, intuitions about situations and new literary ideas. The first of these ideas was that I was listening to too much Radio 4 and I should try a bit more silence. (Rises and turns off radio) I realised I lived a ridiculously noisy life - with "interference" coming from all directions. While I was at the Abbey I felt more intensely myself - as though "this is who I really am". So much of my life is involved with utter trivia - in pursuit of what? I'm not suggesting that the "real Me" is intensely high-minded and spent in pursuit of ultimate truth and superb creativity - just that one's attempts to do good work, and spend more time considering how to make things better are endlessly being interrupted and sabotaged by this trivia.
I also didn't worry about anything when I was there - I usually worry a bit about money, or the kids, or having to cook supper again or something, but I just didn't, nor did I miss my normal life, or the internet even (shock!). It was as if by telling myself I would remain within the Abbey grounds for 4 days and not go out (you can of course, there's no restriction) I really did cut myself off from the world quite successfully - and liked it. It is just so calm there. How long would I have liked it for is the question? I would happily still be there - if I could. Sadly the retreat season ends tomorrow and I won't be able to go again until next Easter. I think I will be thinking about going quite early in the season, or perhaps seeing if it would be possible to go and live there (as a paying guest) permanently [since this would mean abandoning husband and children, perhaps they wouldn't allow that]. Or maybe check out a few other likely retreat spots... I now understand why wealthy women who were widowed went to live in convents - choose the right nuns, and it's a great thing (there were men at Minster too I should say, so it wasn't the absence of men that caused the tranquillity... ).
Curiously, I haven't wanted to blog since I came back - is blogging part of my trivial mental clutter? Is it a sign I should give it up - or change direction? I started the blog to have conversations - but it's a monologue - which I can have quite satisfactorily in my head.
I hoped that I might sort out a few issues about how I feel about myself, how I feel about my mother, and get on with a lot of writing - I even thought there might be a God element in it (i.e. I might enjoy the religious services).
Some of these things were achieved in a way. As soon as Sister Benedict showed me to the room - with its surprisingly comfortable bed (I want one!) and it's annoyingly small table (not room for a laptop and an open notebook) I settled down and started writing. First I wrote a list of all the things that I'd like to resolve in my diary. Then I opened one of the new A4 notebooks and wrote whatever came into my head. By the end of the afternoon I had mysteriously created 2,500 words on a topic I had not yet thought about in Conscience - but which was going to fit exactly into my scheme for it. It was really exciting. I had expected to plod through the outline of the plot that I sketched out years ago and have been working to - more or less - ever since. I really had not considered having a character who is buried alive in it. Weird.
I went to have supper: the food again was surprising. Not good in a foodie way, very unadorned, no unusual spices or herbs, terribly simple, but very good in itself. Plainly cooked veg like spinach and leeks were just simply good. The table conversations were a bit subdued at first, since none of us knew each other, and on the whole most of the visitors did not seem to be raging conversationalists. Which was restful, however, conversation did flow more freely after a couple of days.
On the first evening I went to compline. It's an enjoyable evening service, which prays for protection against the terrors of the night, but for whatever reason, I wasn't specially moved by it. Some of the settings they sang the prayers to were a bit dull and unfamiliar - however, at the end, the nuns all gathered around a statue of the Virgin - and sang Salve Regina, which was fantastically beautiful. I recognised it as the prayer my grandmother sometimes used to rattle through when she was angry (Catholic answer to counting to 10)* Hail holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, hail our life, our sweetness and our hope.... http://www.ourladyswarriors.org/prayer/hailholy.htm if you want the full thing, you poor banished children of Eve!
*Actually, she didn't always do this - sometimes she just hit us without bothering.
I fully intended to go to other services (although I decided I wouldn't go to Mass because I'm technically an excommunicant and I dislike going to Mass if I can't take communion; yes, it's a bit chippy, sorry) but I decided I would go as and when I had a moment to take a break from writing and reading. Curiously, I didn't. There never was a point when I looked up from writing, or took a break in my research and thought "ooh - Vespers/Tierce/Sext will be starting in a minute - I could go down to the chapel". However, I did some private praying (not enough probably - but more than usual) and I had one or two discussion about faith and issues that arose in living as an "out" Christian... but typically, most of the people there were more active in churches or had a strong Christian community behind them - so a freelance, self-employed Christian like me - most of whose friends were atheists - was something a little odd to them. I always seem to be "the cat that walked by itself" but I'm used to it. In addition I chose myself a "devotional book" to read - Why there almost certainly is a god by Keith Ward. I didn't manage to finish it - but I liked the ideas about how new scientific ideas (my old friend cosmology etc.) have now rather overwhelmed the scientific materialist arguments for atheism. Yay! for quantum mechanics - I will never be rude about Dark Energy again!
Apart from the unusual bit of writing on the first day, nothing spectacular happened to me on retreat - but there was a most enormous flood of insight into things, solutions to problems, new perceptions, intuitions about situations and new literary ideas. The first of these ideas was that I was listening to too much Radio 4 and I should try a bit more silence. (Rises and turns off radio) I realised I lived a ridiculously noisy life - with "interference" coming from all directions. While I was at the Abbey I felt more intensely myself - as though "this is who I really am". So much of my life is involved with utter trivia - in pursuit of what? I'm not suggesting that the "real Me" is intensely high-minded and spent in pursuit of ultimate truth and superb creativity - just that one's attempts to do good work, and spend more time considering how to make things better are endlessly being interrupted and sabotaged by this trivia.
I also didn't worry about anything when I was there - I usually worry a bit about money, or the kids, or having to cook supper again or something, but I just didn't, nor did I miss my normal life, or the internet even (shock!). It was as if by telling myself I would remain within the Abbey grounds for 4 days and not go out (you can of course, there's no restriction) I really did cut myself off from the world quite successfully - and liked it. It is just so calm there. How long would I have liked it for is the question? I would happily still be there - if I could. Sadly the retreat season ends tomorrow and I won't be able to go again until next Easter. I think I will be thinking about going quite early in the season, or perhaps seeing if it would be possible to go and live there (as a paying guest) permanently [since this would mean abandoning husband and children, perhaps they wouldn't allow that]. Or maybe check out a few other likely retreat spots... I now understand why wealthy women who were widowed went to live in convents - choose the right nuns, and it's a great thing (there were men at Minster too I should say, so it wasn't the absence of men that caused the tranquillity... ).
Curiously, I haven't wanted to blog since I came back - is blogging part of my trivial mental clutter? Is it a sign I should give it up - or change direction? I started the blog to have conversations - but it's a monologue - which I can have quite satisfactorily in my head.
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