Gentle readers, I have been on retreat yesterday and today at the local Dominican Retreat House. A few of you may remember my going back and forth about whether to accept the invitation to write an article for the preaching journal. Well, after my characteristic waffling “huh? me?” (which you can read in all its neurotic glory here), I decided to go for it, but I knew there was no way I’d get it done without a quiet, contemplative, internet-free place. So away I went.

Wednesday

10:30 Drive to retreat center. Listen to Diane Rehm’s show on NPR, the topic of which has an immediate bearing on one of the threads for this article. This bodes well.

11:00 Arrive. It’s amazing how similar these retreat centers all look. Low horizontal building. Long corridors. Simple room: cinder block walls, bed, lamp, chair, desk, sink; bathroom and shower down the hall.

Time for a nap before lunch.

12:15 Lunch is waiting on a tray in the kitchen. I brush past the chatty group of retreatants and retire to my silent room. Salad, veggie lasagna, green beans, garlic bread, and a small glass of water which inexplicably slips out of my hands during the meal. I get an idea for a poem based on this experience………… shake it off, decide to do it later. Down to business.

1:00 Read, research, exegete, lament my rusty Greek, feel amazement that I remember any at all.

2:15 Hot chocolate break. Check out a couple of books from the retreat center library which fill in a couple of details I’m lacking.

2:30 More reading, note-taking.

4:00 Another nap. Is it the pregnancy or the quiet of the place? I convince myself that the naps now will allow me to work later tonight. I hope…

5:00 Wake up. Listen to a message on my cell from my best friend who informs me that another friend of ours has just become a mother for the first time. I text-message the news to R, and remember Sister Mary’s skepticism when I arrived earlier today with my laptop in tow. “You won’t be needing that!” she said. When I explained that I was writing an article, she said, “Well, take some time for rest too.” Not A Problem.

Laptops and text messages—that’s 21st century retreating for you.
Later, Microsoft Word crashes twice. I wonder whether it is a portent, or the spirit of St. Jude Thaddeus, for whom my dorm room is named.

I reboot.

5:45 Supper by myself in the dining room. Stir fry and rice, a small cup of applesauce, and frosted sugar cookies for dessert. Water that I manage not to spill this time.

7:00 Back to work.

8:30 Break, then more work.

11:15 Time to quit working and read for a while. I have an extremely detailed outline, including the section titles (and my struggle with titles is well-known). Tomorrow I will begin writing. I know exactly what I want to say; now I just have to say it. (R says that this is why he could never be an academic. Once he’s figured something out, it is no longer fun. Writing it up would be tedious beyond measure.)

12:00 Bedtime.

Thursday

8:10 Whoops! I overslept a little for breakfast, which turns out to be cereal, yogurt and fruit. It says something about the demographic of this place that two out of the three cereal options are bran. Do young people not come to these places? Where are the Lucky Charms?

Quick shower. Back to work.

10:20 This is fun. Writing is fun! Quick break to grab some tea.

11:30 I'm not done by any means, but I am well on my way. Now for a quick lunch before departing early (R has an all-day appointment) to run to church pick up some additional resources retrieve C from preschool load her in the car take her to day care then run home for additional work and tidying up the house and was I really gone on retreat I don’t remember now.

On my way out I run into my Head of Staff who is here with her clergy group. Back to reality!

All in all a fruitful time, despite its rushed ending.