Entering good silence

For months now I’ve been yearning to go on a silent retreat. In the coming days, with my husband’s departure for overseas work, and his inspired encouragement on this strange longing of mine, I’m seizing the opportunity to live in more silence than I ever have before.

Despite my strong hermity tendencies, this feels significant. I’ve never been intentional about entering silence for much longer than a couple of hours. Sharing a life and a bedroom with someone puts natural limits on solitude.

Starting Monday (after a two-day conference and a brunch I’m hosting), I’ll be honoring my deep desire to let my mind wander, breathe more deeply, and go inward.

What will this look like? Not sure because I’m not scheduling anything. I know it will involve long walks in the park, along the river, and hopefully a visit to an indoor labyrinth. I’m intending to get back to my yoga mat on a regular basis.

I’ll be avoiding the internet (Netflix, Twitter) phone calls/texts, and limiting email to an hour a day for work and pressing personal matters.

I will honor existing commitments that are already on my calendar, but I’ve been limiting them deliberately. And barring extraordinary circumstances, I won’t be setting up meetings or attending events. If I need to get groceries I will talk when needed.

The one social exception I’m permitting myself is dinner with my dear friend Steph Cowling, who reached out shortly after I set this intention. I can only explain our connection by saying that my soul reaches very great heights when I’m with her. We always leave each other’s company feeling expanded and enriched. It just feels right to make time for her.

I also live with two cats, and after careful consideration, I decided to continue talking to them in my usual fashion (to tell them I love them, to announce meal times, to shoo them away from places they shouldn’t be getting into).

Having goals seems to go against the spirit of a silent retreat, which in my mind is openness to the process. But I do have intentions, which include:

*unplugging
*dropping ballast (also, letting go of a lot of BS in my life–an ongoing process)
*paying attention to my body
*gaining insight on some BIG questions
*shedding a layer of skin in a safe environment so I can revel in the rawness

I’m intentional with music (I don’t use it to fill silence), so if I feel moved to play something I will. I’ll definitely be journaling my way through this, but I haven’t decided how much to share publicly during or after, though I know some of you are curious to hear about this experience. (If I do journal about it on my personal blog it will probably be published to Twitter.)

I am feeling my muse return after a very long period away. This is a good sign that this is the right move for me.