Listening to Sacred Stillness: Driving Into Stillness

Driving Into Stillness

Each year I drive north, up the California coast, into stillness.

The first time I visited New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur, California was nine years ago this week. It was a suggestion from a friend who had encouraged and helped guide my exploration of contemplative spirituality. She thought the New Camaldoli community might be “my kind of guys.”

I had spent time on their website and started reading books they recommended. That was the first time I drove into stillness of a place which has become more like home each year.

That first year I got lost on the way. I was making good time and thought I had found an easy way to get there.  It turned out it was not an easy way, took several extra hours, and required I turn around and go back the way I came.

I was received into the community as a lay Oblate one year later.

Each August I take the trip into stillness. The drive is part of my retreat; getting away, leaving things behind, heading into the solitude and the stillness.

The way to New Camaldoli is clearly marked. The rhythms of driving and being alone help me settle into stillness.

In August, Monterey County looks like a John Steinbeck novel come to life with lots of gold and browns. The road turns back toward the ocean. There is often a shroud of coastal fog. The trip can become more challenging. It may be harder to see, and there are new distractions.

Eventually, I arrive at the driveway and begin the final two miles up the hill. The last thing I leave behind is my phone coverage. Now I am ready to enter into stillness.

Entering Into Stillness

My drive up the coast has helped prepare me to spend some time listening to sacred stillness. For the next few days the only times I will talk are when we are chanting in the chapel or in the bookstore.

New Camaldoli is a peaceful place. Surrounded by trees and overlooking the ocean, it is naturally beautiful. My time there is precious.

The sun slowly burns off the fog each morning and sinks into the ocean each evening. I spend some time each day reading and writing, walking and resting.

New Camaldoli draws me into stillness even at night. Many more stars fill the sky at New Camaldoli than in Los Angeles. The sights and sounds and smells wrap their arms around me and hold me close.

I may have set goals for my time there, but the stillness overcomes them. Even when I expect to make decisions or gain insights, stillness draws me into its peace.

Each year reminds me the most important thing I have to do is listening to sacred stillness. No matter what I expected my priorities to be, they are drawn into stillness. It is stillness which is of ultimate significance.

I sit in my room rocking in my chair. Looking out over the hill to the ocean, I see the beauty and stillness of nature. Spiritual life draws my attention to the world around me without the distractions of everyday life.

New Camaldoli is a special place, but not because it is any more spiritual than anywhere else. It is special because I take the time to listen.

Time slows down for me as I enter into stillness. Each moment carries meaning and purpose as it expands into its potential. Entering into stillness allows me to give each moment the attention it deserves.

Living Into Stillness

The time I spend listening to sacred stillness at New Camaldoli is great, but is not the most significant benefit.

Like any practice, spiritual or otherwise, listening to stillness helps me live into stillness after I have left. I practice listening to stillness in an environment which helps me become a stronger listener. The challenge for me is living into stillness when I leave, driving back, in the days to come.

It may be easier for us to enter into stillness when our days are scheduled around listening. Can we live into stillness when we are surrounded by the distractions of everyday life?

The time I spend at New Camaldoli is not a panacea. It is not an emotional mountain top to protect me from the pressures of real life. Even though it is often emotional and is on a mountain, New Camaldoli is not an escape from troubles.

My time at the monastery is like practicing a sport or a musical instrument. The time I practice listening to sacred stillness helps me become a stronger player. Why practice if it does not help us live into stillness in everyday life?

Listening to sacred stillness, wherever we do it, is not intended to simply make us feel more comfortable.

Listening Our Way Into Stillness

We learn to listen well by listening. Our capacities for reflection are strengthened by spending time reflecting.

Listening to sacred stillness is not something we add to our busy schedules to lower our blood pressure. While it may do that for us, that is not its essential benefit.

As we practice listening to sacred stillness we gain perspective on listening. We open ourselves to spiritual life in the world and begin to realize spiritual life is already within us.

When we begin to listen to sacred stillness we start to hear our own stillness.

I do not drive up to Big Sur to get away from my life, but to immerse myself in it. It is so easy and so tempting to get distracted by all the interests and entertainments of our lives.

New Camaldoli is a beautiful place, but its deepest beauty is in its stillness.

Each moment draws our attention whether we are watching the fog clear or the sun set or the stars in the night sky.

We listen our way into stillness.

Where will you enter into stillness today?

How will we live into stillness this week?

[Image by friedX]

Greg Richardson is a spiritual life mentor and leadership coach in Southern California. He is a recovering attorney and university professor, and a lay Oblate with New Camaldoli Hermitage near Big Sur, California. Greg’s website is StrategicMonk.com, and his email address is StrategicMonk@gmail.com.