I stepped out of the now-dark chapel and into the peaceful stillness of the night. As I headed down the path, I let my eyes wander, listening as I took in the beauty of my surroundings. Leaves crunched, animals scampered through the trees, and crickets sung, harmonious with the silence of the rural night. Headed to the retreat center, I stepped off of the wooded path, following my group. The sound of gravel underfoot soon reached my ears, an unexpected noise in the natural quiet.
I decided to sit on the short wall within the retreat center area. I leaned against the concrete pillar and looked around, noting the surprisingly comfortable silence that surrounded me.
A few hours before, three friends and I had made a plan to meet up after Compline (Night Prayer) to take a walk around the beautiful property where we were staying before headed to bed for a few hours. Before long the other girls joined me, and we shared silent smiles, knowing that the 12-hour span from Compline to morning Mass was the Grand Silence, which our group had agreed to keep. We were heading to the long, tree-draped driveway at the entrance to the Abbey, planning to walk to the end and back.
Within just a few minutes we were away from the lights of the retreat center, and our way was lit only by the glow of the moon. As we walked, my eyes flitted eagerly around in an attempt to take in the immense amount of beauty that surrounded me.
Soon we reached the paved driveway. A few steps ahead of me, one of the girls turned and pointed upward at the sky. Enveloped in a peaceful silence, all four of us stopped for a moment, tilting our heads back to match her gaze.
Now, if I were to ask you, "have you ever seen the sky?" you might look at me weird, and answer with something along the lines of "of course". And if, anytime before this trip, you had asked me the same question, I very likely would have had the same reaction. But now I realize that, had someone actually asked me that, my answer until that night should have been "no". At that moment, when I looked up to see the big and little dipper constellations shining against a smooth dark blue sky, amid what seemed like thousands of clear, bright stars, I felt as if I was seeing the sky for the very first time.
St Thérèse of Lisieux, in her autobiography Story of a Soul, writes about the first time she ever saw the ocean. You might think, at first, that Thérèse is being a bit dramatic. However, if you are ever blessed with an experience like this, where you not only see something breathtaking but take the time to realize that the same loving God who created that majestic image created you, you'll be able to understand...
When I was six or seven years old, I saw the sea for the first time. The sight made a deep impression on me, I could not take my eyes off it. Its majesty, and the roar of the waves, all spoke to my soul of the greatness and power of God. (St Thérèse of Lisieux)
I still distinctly remember and will always cherish that time when I walked into God's planetarium. From that moment on, I saw the sky differently.
I hope that you all have at least one memory that is relatable to this experience. But either way, I encourage you to take a break from the busyness of life and go out into God's creation. Find a place away from the city lights and the low rumble of the highway; a place where you realize that the silence is actually a symphony which nature is playing for you; a place where you can stop and ponder the truly wonderful work of your Father, the Creator of the Universe. While you're on this adventure, allow yourself to slip into a period of silence. When I was on that walk with my friends, our silence made a huge difference. We easily could have been talking and laughing as we walked, but the quiet created a beautifully different atmosphere, which gave me the chance to notice the nearly hidden wonders of the outdoors.
A few years ago, I was listening to a talk by a wonderful religious sister. She pointed out that the most beautiful things happen in silence. How true! And how easy to miss those things - those vibrant sunsets, babies growing in their mothers' wombs, butterflies taking flight - can be if we don't step out of the noise sometimes!
