I was having dinner with a friend at a restaurant. We hadn’t seen each other for several months so there was plenty to catch up – if only the noise level hadn’t been so high as to make us try to lip-read. We tried to make the best of it, this was a restaurant chosen by us for its very quality of “quiet” comfort. Not anymore.

Rabindranath Tagore, poet, philosopher, author, and so much more and, one of my favourite people on planet earth, says it all in one of his poems: “…The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed….”  Absolute truth!

Even while we complain about information overload we chatter incessantly. The more technology connects us the less connected we seem from each other. Aggression has grown to horrific heights although we refuse to make eye contact. This seems contradictory, but it’s true.

So how can someone find a spot of silence in a world of noise?

This brings me to the subject of retreats. The word retreat as I understand is stepping back, as in a retreating army. In today’s world someone seeking quiet can go on retreat on their own or part of a group.  Tapping into a niche market entrepreneurs have given a new dimension to this concept creating beautiful retreats be it for team building, writing, yoga etc.

I must have been about twelve or thirteen when I participated in a quiet retreat for the first time in my life. It happened at our school, a Roman Catholic convent, back home. Participation was voluntary. Truthfully speaking I had no idea what to expect only that students who wanted to attend were required to report to school early one Saturday morning and sit through a series of lectures by a speaker from abroad.  And, most importantly, we were told it was a strictly quiet retreat and speaking was not allowed until it ended at 3pm.

I was curious, wanted to experience a day of quiet. Would I be able to do it? I decided to challenge myself and showed up on time.

That day will remain forever etched in my mind.

To an impressionable teenager a day full of silence and prayer should have seemed interminably long, but somehow it didn’t to me. The silence was sometimes hard to accept, especially while listening to the speaker a myriad questions spun around in my mind with the velocity of a roller coaster.  I couldn’t just raise my hand to ask but had to wait until the very end, then, and only then were we allowed to ask questions. But not in the conventional manner. Speaking was forbidden. We were instructed to write out our questions on paper which the speaker collected and answered, one at a time.

I doubt if this kind of silence will appeal to everyone. I did it out of curiosity and came away with something akin to wonder. I learned to be still, to listen without interrupting, to gather my thoughts into coherent questions that were clamouring to be asked. I can’t say the answers I received satisfied me completely but I had learned discipline – how to still the mind, shut my mouth and open my ears.

Later in my professional life in Canada, I was exposed to quiet retreats at our workplace. This came with a twist. We would go away for the weekend out of the city to a stunning chalet situated in the northern beauties of this province.

Ah, here were all the qualities to make a retreat – complete silence throbbing within the heart of nature, chance to commune with our inner self, praying or meditating. Here, we were not required to listen to a speaker silently sitting in a room.  Our retreat leader followed a format that included morning and afternoon assembly; we had the freedom to join or not. And, in between we were encouraged to follow the dictates of our own self – to do whatever we liked for the idea was to use this time to rest, rejuvenate our spirits and tired minds and bodies, so we would be fresh and rested to carry on our work, that of caring for the community. We walked in the woods in a group or alone, enjoyed fellowship preparing meals and eating in the communal kitchen, pooled our talents to create objects inspired by our surroundings which were then displayed.

I will be eternally grateful for those quiet times. Somehow, when one is quiet things, even those that are hard to discern like a dewdrop trembling on a leaf, the sudden whisper of wind through a leafy branch, a glint of sunlight on a distant rock, take on a different dimension. They become the centre of consciousness forcing one to slow down to observe and to appreciate what’s around, and within us.

It is generally agreed that bringing silence into our lives from time to time fosters better health and mental well-being. I tend to believe this theory for I have seen its beneficial effects, first hand. And the silent retreat at school – it sure taught me discipline, which is equally important in order to enjoy a balanced life.

Keep Well…..Keep Smiling

Purabi Das

Purabi Das is an emerging writer and poet living in Pickering. Some of Purabi’s short stories have been featured on www.commuterlit.com . Purabi was recently featured at Open Mic organized by Writer’s Community of Durham Region where she read an excerpt from her novel.  Visit Purabi on www.facebook.com/purabisinhadas.