Sometimes we forget how it is like to rest.
For some people, a rest would usually mean going out of town to comb the beaches, indulging in shopping or bingeing on exotic cuisine.
We become accustomed to the hustles and bustles of everyday as we juggle busy schedules and various activities. We tend to lose ourselves in a sea of faces that we fail to set aside some time for solitude.
My retreat at St. Scholastica’s House of Spirituality in Tagaytay with the other Varsitarian staffers gave me the opportunity to pause and allow silence to resonate within the recesses of my being.
I remember when the bus pulled into the driveway of the retreat house, I already felt a sense of peace. It was that kind of stillness, which often greets you when you are looking at a picturesque view of nature.
Our retreat master was Fr. Raul Go of the UST Ecclesiastical Faculty of Sacred Theology. Our sessions were filled with inspirational talks, group-sharing, songs, and confessions.
One of the highlights of our retreat was when we celebrated the Holy Mass in an artificial cave illuminated by lamps hanging from the ceiling.
Communion
Before the retreat, I was hoping that I could have the chance to unload my negative energies and replace them with something positive. I was wrong because I did not only have the opportunity to rest. More than that, I made my communication lines to God free from congestion. The House of Spirituality created an atmosphere that was conducive to communing with God.
Going on retreat helped me to break free from the clutches of monotonous routines and to dwell in solitude. It gave me a leeway to rekindle my relationship with God and at the same time to be more receptive to His presence.
Knowing thyself
I also took that rare opportunity to reassess myself on how far I had traveled in life so that, in the end, I would acquire a better perspective of things. The retreat gave me renewed vigor to battle life’s storms with a better grasp of reality.
It allowed me to step back from confusion to get a glimpse of the bigger picture. Sometimes, when I take that step forward, I tend to lose my foothold. And it is only through learning when to stop that I can arrive at sound decisions.
Camaraderie
The retreat also provided me the time to openly share my idiosyncrasies with my fellow staffers and to know those of the incoming staffers as well.
Through group-sharing activities, I learned that some of them were attending a retreat for the first time.
I appreciated the sense of security that is felt in the presence of others although there were times that I found my opinions different from theirs.
Detachment
I realized that we tend to cling to material things because we derive a certain sense of satisfaction from them. It reminded me of one of the arguments we once had in class that it is only in learning how to satiate our worldly desires that we could appreciate life more.
A perfect example would be the exemplary lives of St. Benedict and his twin sister, St. Scholastica, after whom the retreat house was named. Although they belonged to an affluent family, they led a life of complete isolation from material possessions all for the love of God.
But sometimes, we become slaves to our own desires that we neglect the things that matter most in life such as contentment, peace of mind, and companionship.
Letting silence be heard
One of the things I’ve learned from the retreat is the value of silence. Once, I withdrew from the crowd and wandered around the place for a while.
I came across a pond situated near the palm fronds. The water on the pond created ripples that traversed down the steep, moss-covered ground. Beads of light cast by the sun’s rays were reflected on the waters.
Once in a while, I shut my eyes to shield them from the blinding heat. It was already high noon and my skin was getting somewhat prickly from the scorching heat of the sun.
Without having any second thoughts, I removed my thong slippers, dipped my foot in the inviting coolness and let my thoughts drift like the waters flowing in midstream. I felt that I could shut my worldly troubles away at that moment. Silence, indeed, is the best conversationalist. Sometimes, words cannot compensate for what silence can tell us. It is also in silence that we could hear our heart speak.
A friend once asked me, “Why the need for retreat? You could lie down in bed for a whole day and then you’ll have your rest.”
I smiled and told her that our soul also needs to rest as much as the body does.
As I retired to bed that evening and, snuggled beneath the warm covers, I stared into the darkness and heard the gentle tapping of the rain against the shutters. I felt a deep sense of peace within me. There was no room for worries and doubts. It was as if a mist of stillness had wrapped my body lulling me to sleep.
And as I closed my eyes, I instinctively knew that I would be coming back home renewed.
