I have returned from a three-day silent retreat at Bon Secours convent in Maryland. I came with zero expectations. I have done enough of these to know that what I want will be quickly pushed to the side in favor of what really needs to be Seen.
It was a very beautiful place. I loved the bare simplicity of the room (before I messed it up.)
Once the rustle of settling in quieted down, I could hear the sound of the little waterfall underneath my window. And that sound made me instantly unhappy.
If you visited my home in Montana, you don't need me to tell you why. But if you didn't, let me tell you that there was a beautiful creek and waterfall underneath our bedroom window that lulled us to sleep every night. It took me a little longer (but actually not that long) to figure it out.
And so it continued. A long weekend that I came to think of as "The Noticing Project." The small stuff. That wasn't always small. You can live in the most beautiful place on the planet and not have the smallest love you need. You can live in a very small place and have so much it can hardly be contained.