The Virtual Retreat: A Liturgy of Silence
Preface: I’m beginning a short book of prose on the topic of silence. For more information, and to subscribe to the project, visit my latest Substack Post.
Virtual Retreat Day 1: A Liturgy of Silence
I was raised in a busy spirituality. We had a pipe organ and horn section in our Sunday service. There was a youth night with chubby-bunny contests, a raucous band, lights, cameras, always action. Everything was amped or next-level or peak. Never was I led into silence or solitude. Never was I told that the Divine Love is a quiet presence, or if I was, there was so much noise that I didn’t hear it.
From a teenage sociological perspective, I suppose this is quite understandable. After all, silence and solitude are, as a practical matter, boring. And what amped teen relishes boredom? Isn’t the next-level spiritual experience supposed to be exciting? Isn’t peak spirituality innately busy, perhaps loud?
In my adult years, I’ve come to believe that dedicated times of silence and solitude open spiritual, psychological, and even creative doors. In my book Coming Clean days, I journaled through the first 90 days of sobriety. In that spit of a season, I sat in the silence of my living room night after night and opened myself to the numinous. In stillness and solitude, I found it easier to organize my thoughts. I wrote in the silence each day, and as I did, my creativity imagination opened. What’s more, I experienced the coming of Divine Love, the presence of the Christ I thought I’d never experience again.
In her article “The Call of Solitude,” Ester Buchholz, who authored a book by the same name, mused on the necessity of silence and solitude in the religious experience. She wrote:
For religion to have its greatest appeal, it must allow time for solitude. The book of Genesis lays this foundation. Within the creation story, God established Saturday, the Shabbat, as a day of rest, set aside from all others. The Shabbat was a time to contemplate one's life and the scriptures. We can do the same, whether we take a day of rest for ourselves, or an hour of quiet prayer, or even a few minutes of meditation. Whether in a remote, faraway stillness or in the very center of a community, the hermit or itinerant monk resides in us all.
How to Incorporate Silence and Solitude Into Your Week
At 5:45 on each Monday morning, I make my way to our local Catholic Church and spend time in the adoration chapel. There, I gather with a small group of regulars whose faces I’ve come to know. We do not say a word, but instead, enter into silence and solitude, faces turned toward the sacramental bread placed on the altar. I sit in a personal pew. Occasionally, I kneel. There, I begin my week in perfect stillness, asking the Divine Love to come, to open my heart and mind for the upcoming week. I pray for friends and family as they come to mind, turn to the Scriptures if one comes blazing into my brain. For the most part, though, I carry no agenda into that hour other than to be still and silent before the God of the universe. Often, it’s the richest hour of my week.
Silence doesn’t happen by accident. It takes liturgical, habituated effort. So today, I’m inviting you to create your own weekly liturgy or ritual of stillness and solitude, even if it’s only an hour. How?
Life Examined: Create a Liturgy of Silence
1. Identify one hour a week where you can practice silence and solitude. I say “practice” because it might not be easy at first.
2. Enter into the time with no expectations (and even more importantly, no cell phone). Consider using a simple prayer to focus your attention. I often enter into silence by repeating the Jesus Prayer—Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
3. Bring a journal and a copy of your favorite religious text. Remember, this is not a time for productivity, but when you feel the pull of Divine Love, turn to prayer, journaling, or reading the text. You might be surprised by what comes out.
4. After your hour of silence and solitude, reflect. What did you notice? Was it uncomfortable or peaceful? Were you pulled to distraction, you mind racing? Did it feel like an hour of relief or torture?
5. Commit to practicing this weekly ritual of silence and solitude on the same day for two months. See what happens.
***A Special Invitation***
What to hear more about how you can help bring a book on silence to life? Don’t forget to head to my latest Substack post for more.
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Stories are our Teachers
The church baptistery was locked, but the gate slats were just wide enough for me to slip my hand through and shoot a blind photo of the ceiling with my cellphone.
"Go ahead, she said."
I took the photo, pulled my hand back through, and saw the story of Christ painted on the ceiling in burnt desert colors.
The mural is painted just above the baptistery, the place where the child is held, head heavenward as the priest pours water over her hair.
"The first thing the baby sees during her baptism is the Christ-story, from birth to death," she said. "It’s the first thing she sees as she enters the church. And,” she said, leaning in, “this is how the church used stories for 1,500 years, sharing Christ with even the most illiterate."
We are born into this world craving mother’s milk. It is the first draught of life. The second draught is experienced in the stories we’re told in the silent places, places like the breast, the crib, and baptismal font.
***WAKE UP WITH ME***
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Silence: The Final Word
Silence.
Count to seven. Listen only to your breathing. How do you feel?
I’ve been musing on silence as a practice this week. It hasn’t been the easiest week to practice silence because my own voices of inner-chaos are pretty loud. This happens from time to time, especially in stressful seasons. And yet, when I’ve pushed into silence this week, I’ve found myself cooler, calmer, more collected.
The practice of silence works to bring us a sort of waking rest if only we’ll let it.
So why have I written about silence every day this week? I’ve turned over a new writing leaf, I suppose. I’m dedicating this space to exploring and writing about spiritual practices, practices of waking up. So over the next few months (perhaps years), I’ll pick a weekly topic like Silence and fumble around the edges of it. I’ll play with it, consider it, practice it, and I’ll ask you to consider doing the same. Make sure to follow along by subscribing, by checking your morning (or sometimes noon-hour) messages?
If you’ve enjoyed this series, if it’s made you think, feel free to email me.
I may not see you tomorrow, but I’ll see you around,
Seth
***
Take a chance on waking up.
My next book, The Book of Waking Up: Experiencing the Divine Love that Reorders a Life is available for pre-order NOW. (Amazon, Barnes & Noble) It’s a book that explores true, inner sobriety, and how to attach to and adore Divine Love. Pre-orders are vital to the success of a book, so please do not wait. Order today. And if you do, let me know via email. I’ll send you a sample along with the 3-part video series that gave rise to this book!
*For behind the scenes content join the inner circle.
Silence: A Productivity Tool for Those Who Care About Productivity
Productivity—it’s the buzzword of the day. There are productivity apps, productivity books, and productivity podcasts. The productivity gurus shill productivity tools meant to boost your output, your throughput, your everywhere-a-put-put. Those gurus have the answers, and they’ll tell you all about them for $9.99, for a retweet, for a like on Instagram. But how often do you hear these gurus discuss the power of silence?
We live in a world of constant noise—cell phones dinging, computer popup notifications, 24-hour news cycles, which is to say nothing of the endless chatter of the daily meetings. What does that noise do but distract us and beg for our attention. What does it do but constantly pull us off task? This endless noise keeps us in the constant churn of stress. It ramps up our anxiety, or at least that’s what the experts say. And in those stress cycles, in the endless hum of anxiety, can we be our most balanced, most productive, most whole selves?
I can’t.
Months ago, I read a book by Justin Whitmel Early entitled The Common Rule. In that book, he shares how the noise of life led him headlong into unmanageable anxiety and the panic attacks that come with it. And though he came up with several strategies to deal with that anxiety, among them was carving out brief moments of silent reflection at work. How did he do it? He closed his office door, got on his knees, and paused for a few minutes of prayer. As he instituted daily silence into his routine (among other things), he found relief from the daily panic.
I’m no productivity guru. I couldn’t shill product for $9.99 instructing you how to make the most of your day. But if I’ve learned anything on my own journey through nagging anxiety and into inner sobriety, it’s what Justin learned: You can’t be your most productive, creative, assertive, whole self when the overwhelming anxiety sets in. And you can’t break those cycles of anxiety without a break from the noise of the day, particularly the office noise. But how do you do it?
How to Incorporate Silence Into Your Workday:
Carve out 7 minutes sometime in your workday (losing 7 minutes won’t kill you; I promise).
Close the door to your office, or if you’re in a cubicle, find a quiet place—a stairwell, a bathroom stall, whatever.
For seven minutes, close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Push out any thoughts by listening to the sounds of your own breath. Focus on how your body feels. Is there pent up anxiety? Are your nerves on fire? Is breathing difficult?
At the end of those seven minutes, take a deep breath, whisper a prayer, and go back to your day. See if the practice of silence doesn’t bring some stress relief.
Do this for one week, and at the end ask: Has the practice of silence in the office made me better, less stressed, more creative, and more productive?
***
Take a chance on waking up.
My next book, The Book of Waking Up: Experiencing the Divine Love that Reorders a Life is available for pre-order NOW. (Amazon, Barnes & Noble) It’s a book that explores true, inner sobriety, and how to attach to and adore Divine Love. Pre-orders are vital to the success of a book, so please do not wait. Order today. And if you do, let me know via email. I’ll send you a sample along with the 3-part video series that gave rise to this book!
*For behind the scenes content join the inner circle.
Silence: What it Teaches You About Love
Can you sit in the silence with the ones you love? When you do, what do you hear? What do you know?
***
Take a chance on waking up.
My next book, The Book of Waking Up: Experiencing the Divine Love that Reorders a Life is available for pre-order NOW. (Amazon, Barnes & Noble) It’s a book that explores true, inner sobriety, and how to attach to and adore Divine Love. Pre-orders are vital to the success of a book, so please do not wait. Order today. And if you do, let me know via email. I’ll send you a sample along with the 3-part video series that gave rise to this book!
*For behind the scenes content join the inner circle.
Silence
A man named Society punched the clock, left his factory, and made his way to the field. There, Society found a tree whose fruit was called silence. Society looked up at the silence, remembered the tales his grandfather spun about it. Silence was sweet, his grandfather said, and if you looked at it just right in the evening sun, you could see a reflection of your truest self in its skin. Considering his ancestor's tale, Society wondered: What is my reflection? The tree was tall, though, and as he contemplated how he might take hold of the silence that was just beyond his reach, his smartphone pinged in his pocket. Again. Again. Again. And distracted from the desire to know his truest self, Society pulled out that phone and gazed into it, going about his way after first stepping over the ladder he’d not noticed lying at his feet. As he went, Society decided that silence was less desirable a fruit than the noise his pocket produced.
***
The above is a short adaptation of Aesop’s famous fable, “The fox and the grapes.” It’s a story I shared last week in my monthly newsletter, and as I continue to put myself into the story, I wonder: How much do I value silence?
How much do you?
Contemplate this question this week, then come back tomorrow for more on the topic of silence.
*Photo taken with the Fujifilm X100S. For behind the scenes content join the inner circle.