I’m just back from a week of silent retreat. (No, I wasn’t blogging while I was away! The last two posts were on the timer: written before I went and then scheduled to post automatically, just in case any readers were going to get withdrawal symptoms.)
I’m not going to debrief about my spiritual life online, but I can share just one experience that forms part of the ritual of going on retreat each year that gave me pause for thought: emptying the pockets. I arrived in my room at the retreat house, put the suitcase on the bed, and without much reflection started to empty my trouser pockets onto the shelf in the wardrobe, knowing I wouldn’t be needing all this stuff for the next week.
And what was this ‘stuff’? Car keys, house keys, room keys, cupboard keys; mobile phone; wallet (cash, credit card, debit card, driving licence, celebret, Marks and Spencer vouchers, Oyster card); electronic organiser (diary, contacts, to do list, memos – yes, I am dinosaur enough to still have a Palm PDA; much better designed software, by the way, than an iPhone); loose change.
All of this, I realised perhaps for the first time, I have on me all the time, in three trouser pockets - ’on my person’ as the phrase goes. All of this, normally, I’m afraid to leave the house without it. It’s part of who I am, and it’s hugely symbolic: I ‘am’ the possibility of connecting, communicating, calling, remembering, driving, travelling, entering, opening, unlocking, spending, borrowing, organising, meeting, doing. And all of this, for just a few days, I could put in a cupboard. It was so strange and liberating to go for a walk each morning without it all; not just into the garden, but out into the surrounding streets and the ‘real world’.
Of course my pockets weren’t actually empty! I kept on me my room key and a watch. In other words, I was happy to let go of all the stuff for a week, but I wasn’t prepared to renounce it completely and take the risk of it being stolen. I’ll put it down, but I won’t give it up. And above all else, the watch: I didn’t want to lose track of time and miss my lunch…
Welcome back!
I’m sure you prayed for us all!
Welcome back, Father Stephen. I am one of those people who began to have withdrawal symptoms from your blog. I hope you gained some peace from the retreat ready to address the busyness of daily life. I made two retreats about thirty years ago and it is only now that I am coming to realise the value of them.
Thanks Simon
Welcome back!
I can understand the emptying of pockets, and the freedom one can feel without the accoutrements of daily life that somehow we feel we cannot live without.
I have not been on a retreat, but can relate to the “emptying” which I do on an annual basis. One of the things that I enjoy about the cold of winter is all of the extra pockets that my vests and jackets provide. When Spring arrives, I always regret giving up those extra pockets . . . paper, pen, keys, cellphone, the list goes on. Amazingly, I can always get back to the basics, lighten the load and enjoy traveling light. But when Winter comes it is always a joy to again have those things close. . .
Reverend Father Stephen,
I just read your article about Celibacy, your testimony in “Faith Stories” – and found the blog!
Allow me just to THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.
WONDERFUL and truly giving joy and strength!! – I’m a teacher in London – not-married yet, in love with the Church… And celibacy lived FOR Jesus is such a treasure… May people open their eyes for it, especially young people during their “waiting-years” to find their places which Providence will show them, may they discover the deep joy and richness purity gives… YOUR article will help us a lot!!
Kind regards and many thanks again,
Ilona S.
Thanks Ilona – great you are a teacher!