Protecting the Stillness

 I have been home from Spain for more than a month and one of the greatest gifts that it is still giving is finding comfort in the stillness.  Quiet is never something that I backed away from but this feels different.  I have not only accepted the stillness when it occurs but made space for it in my daily life.  It is unfortunate that retirement is the only time this is even possible in on modern society.  The phrase "carving out" space or time for quiet is apropos.  It does feel like a physical cutting away of something else that would be in its place. My days are frequently filled with thoughts of "I'm just going to sit here," or "I'll stay a few minutes longer."  Those moments used to be moments for prayer and sometimes they still are but not always.  Sometimes it is just an opportunity to be, to sit, to empty my head and heart.  I sit in that void and nothing takes up the space until I rejoin thoughts of the day. It may be the reason that I am finally able to write.  There has to be a space between life and the telling of it.  The emptiness is a necessary ingredient so that when I'm ready to process thoughts and feelings nothing else is pushing up against them.  They have their own space and then the words can follow.  

In Spain, the stillness was most palpable in Montserrat and Manresa.  In the former I was encased by mountains and in the latter a cave.  I often note the feeling of being enclosed or held in my prayer chair these days.  The chair has not been changed, only my perception of it.  I go to the "cave" and feel myself enveloped by the stillness and know only that I am deeply loved.  I am exactly where I am supposed to be; alone in space and time. 

I am moving through the world now knowing that each day must have time set aside to be still and know.  I turn down offers to get together with people if it feels like it will bring too much weight to the day, I eliminate daily news that takes me into darker spaces, I say no to volunteer activities. I wait in the stillness.  I somehow know that the right time for each thing will reveal itself to me and its place in my life.  The quiet brings with it the opportunity for discernment and clearly knowing the next right thing.