Just A Thought

I do feel I own you, dear readers, something from my thoughts.

I took a trip to a monastery two weeks ago. It was quite an adventure considering I didn't know a word of French and everyone there spoke French or Latin (only within the services). I wasn't allowed to board within the monastery itself because I was a woman and the monks wish is to have as few women as possible as infrequently as possible. I spent most of the time in services and prayer, walking the beautiful countryside, reading homework, and sleeping. The place where the girls boarded was run by a Benedictine nun and a lay woman who followed the Benedictine life, but without taking the vow. This lady (for lack of confusion, I'll call her "Sister L."), on our arrival, showed us the rooms we would be staying in. They were nicer than cells; the beds had colorful sheets, and the room seemed cheerful. In her broken English, she explained there would be no talking while indoors in any of the buildings and no more than one girl per room. This rule of silence I thought would be difficult, but I found it surprisingly easy. I didn't really have anyone to talk to, so the easier the rule became. Talking outdoors was hard to get use to after the silence of inside. Not talking made me listen more, and outside I heard again the whispering of the wind, the groaning of the trees, the chirping of the birds. I could almost hear the sun rise in the morning, and the stars sing at night. I heard and saw things from my "childhood" (ie, my younger days which weren't that long ago) that I had forgot. I had forgotten what the sun looks like when it rises every morning in splendor or what the sound of chickadee was like. An circumstance that I didn't even realize was the case until the second day when I was sitting at my window and a chickadee stood singing outside and it sounded strange to my ears.