What I Learned at the Monastery—and How It Might Help You

A couple of weeks ago I took a much needed personal retreat at a monastery about two hours outside the city.

I’ve taken retreats like this before, but never at a monastery. I loved the communal times of prayer three times a day, to which guests were invited but never obligated. And the simple fact that others prepared my meals gave my mind and heart room to pray without wondering where or when I would eat.

But the thing I appreciated most about my time there was that it happened to fall during the monastery’s contemplative days.

And that meant complete silence on the grounds.

No chatter on cell phones.

No conversation on the veranda.

No chitchat over meals.

Ok, so that last one took some getting used to. But even then I realized just how quickly I race through meals, preparing my fork with the next bite while the current one is still in my mouth.

The silence helped me to slow down, even while I ate.

To slow down and think.

To slow down and give thanks for the bite of food in my mouth.

To slow down and recognize the presence of Jesus there at the table or on the veranda or in my room.

Man, I needed that.

And I’m guessing you do too.

Like you I have not been called to a monastic life. So after a few days I got on a city bus which I took to a train station from where I headed back to Grand Central.

But the memory of the silence lingers. And it compelled me to make a change to my schedule.

I went into Google Calendar and added two recurring events: 30 minutes of silence, followed by 60 minutes for lunch.

Ever since Covid I’ve taken lunch when it comes, when my hunger determines it’s time to stop work.

But I want to be more intentional. I want to be clearer in my work-life-ministry boundaries.

So I’ve blocked out the precise hour I’ll eat lunch, much as if I worked another kind of job.

And before that I’ve blocked out time for silence. No screen, no chatter, no distractions. Perhaps a Bible and a prayer book. But simply space.

Space simply to be, to listen, to breathe, to pray.

Of course life happens and meetings get scheduled and lunch appointments arise. This isn’t a perfect, inflexible solution.

But it is a step in a healthy direction.

Already it’s helping me manage my anxiety about work and weave faith into my day.

Maybe it’s a change you should make, too.

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What changes are you making to manage your anxiety?

I’d love to hear from you. Just drop a comment below to get the conversation started.