The thought of posting everything about my retreat is overwhelming...and I don't know I'd be able to communicate it effectively anyway. But in order to take a stab at it, I'll just start with the experience of taking a retreat; and then, as I process it more and more, I'll add some of the content of what I gained from it.

I went on an 8 day directed retreat. What that means it that you are assigned a spiritual director who advises you, listens to you, offers ideas for you to meditate upon, suggests scripture that might be meaningful, offers support for the journey. Many people (at least in Catholic practice, perhaps in other faith groups) utilize a spiritual director or confessor as a necessary component of their walk of faith. I think that since seeing the benefit for myself, I'll probably ask my priest about a local director. I have a feeling it is a bit like choosing a counselor, though.... some are a better fit than others.

My director was a grandfatherly Jesuit priest, whose theological leanings (if I had to put them on a continuum) were likely more liberal than my own. However, I'm so glad that I didn't let this color my opinions....I gained so much from him! He offered me points of view I really hadn't considered; he supported my observations; he kept me focused on the goal of it all; he made helpful suggestions.

I checked into the retreat facility on Sunday afternoon. We had a dinner together, then after the initial dinner, we didn't talk again until lunch 8 days later. Every day followed a predictable schedule:
8 - breakfast
9 - session with my spiritual director
12- lunch
5:15 - mass
6 - dinner

If I didn't want to go to any of these, that was fine...nothing was expected of me. But it gave my day a bit of structure. Beyond those events, how I spent my time was up to me entirely.

The food was homecooked and very good. The retreat facility was 'comfortably spartan'. Everything was clean and comfortable, but not more than I needed. In my room (my 'cell', as my friends and family joked) was a double bed, a desk and chair, a Bible, a crucifix, a luggage stand, a comfy chair, and 8 coat hangers. Thankfully I brought my cell phone, so I had an alarm clock...otherwise, I might have missed a meal!

The retreat house had our rooms, a chapel, a conference room, a very small library/book store, a dining room, and offices for the spiritual directors and staff. The grounds were lovely ... 20 acres of woods bordering the river. There was a picturesque waterfall in the stream, walking trails, and benches and 'personal decks' scattered around the property. There was also an outdoor meditation chapel on the top of the hill. And this in Atlanta...just stuck between residential homes. You'd have thought you were in the middle of nowhere.

I kept a journal each day of what I was learning, my questions, my observations on the experience. I described myself in there as "arriving at the beginning of a rainstorm, with few concrete expectations, and a handful of fears." My first morning I noted: "I awake this morning after a great night's sleep at 7:05. Immediately, thoughts push into my mind. I'm amazed at how -- in a place with no demands, no noise, no real schedule -- I can be so assaulted with planning my day, wondering what will be next, second guessing myself, ...conscious thought."

At the outset, they gave us some information about the value of silence. I quote: "Silence creates the climate of interior stillness in which God's voice can be heard. Abstaining from dialog with others unleashes the easy, spontaneous communication with God, which is prayer. Silence enables us to make contact with our innermost self and thus satisfy our anxious quest for self-identity, inner freedom, and self-determination. Silence enables us to marintain the balance between the outward and inward forces in our lives between action and prayer. Too much community depersonalizes; too much solitude leads to sterile loneliness. The therapeutic value of silence reveals itself in a deep and peaceful tranquility. Silence and speech are correlatives; they complement each other. Without periods of silence we can only babble."

I observed on that first day that I was being confronted with all my words that pile up, even in silence, as I think and write ... and I realize I'm not listening yet. It took awhile to get used to eating with people and not speaking to them....felt a bit like we were all characters out of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" or something...silently shuffling around each other! By the end of the week, I was seeing so much value in the silence! One particular benefit that stood out to me was this: I could figure out myself without reference to the people around me; I didn't have to feel compelled to make small talk, to feign interest in the journey of another if it wasn't genuine. I observed toward the end of my week "One reason retreat is so nice is because there are no images -- no friend's faces, no celebrity magazines, no people in the news -- against which I can measure myself. The people here are strangers on a similar journey, about whom I know nothing, and silence forbids me getting to know. It has been refreshing to begin to learn who I am, NOT in regard to those around me, or what I do (for we all here DO nothing!)."

For more info about the retreat center I went to:
www.ignatiushouse.com

The picture is a painting I did earlier this year of Montserrat in Spain. St. Ignatius Loyola (the Jesuits' patron) gave up his former way of life after spending a night on Montserrat. I thought it was a providential symbol of God in my life. I have a chunk of rock from Montserrat, atop a chunk of rock from Ignatius House, on my desk now.