I got on the M3 towards Constantia, as fast as the limit permits, in order to arrive in time for my so-looked-forward-to solitude retreat at a Catholic Retreat Center called Schoenstatt. I made it on time, 12noon precisely, and I knew that It was a sign I was off to a great start.
Approaching the Price Drive, my lost memory began to re-surface as my heart warmed up to the feeling of remembering my first visit, in October 2006. It felt so familiar.
I intuitively knew I needed to go through the second gate, but for the life of me, I could not remember the reception entrance this time. I walked around the block a few times, before I eventually found the entrance.
Everywhere and everything was soaked in silence, a type of quietness that could make one’s breathing sound as loud as a truck. I pressed the door bell, then hesitated…unsure who would answer the door. In less than 30 seconds, a lady-cook from the kitchen came to the door. We greeted. After the welcome, she asked me to go ahead and choose my room, because most were available.
The building has two floors and two wings, with longer corridors on the right wing. Both ground and top floors on the right have fourteen rooms, with fewer rooms on the left wing. Some rooms have two single beds, while some have only single.
I chose room No. 10 on the right wing, because it coincides with 2010.
I unpacked my small, blue suitcase, and pulled out all my retreat materials: Bible, IPOD, John Eldredge’s book (Walking with God), 3 Journals, Year Planner, Laptop (for Podcasts and study documents, not work), Highlighter, and Pens.
Quickly, I made a draft plan of what to cover in day One, considering all that I felt needed to be covered. The idea of putting everything down on paper helped me attain an incredible, clear state of mind, as my head was buzzing with thoughts and noise.
In less than 15 minutes of being in my room, I was ready to dive into my spiritual encounter. I started by reading through the entries from the last time I retreated in this place. After about 5 hours of worship, prayer, listening, journaling and reading, I looked at my watch and it was time to go for the outdoors reflection and meditation. Time simply flew by!
Grabbing my journal, bible and camera, I wasn’t sure how to get out of the building without locking myself out, knowing it would be a miracle to see another soul close by. But just in time, like an angel, I saw a white, flowing dress coming up from underneath the stairs, towards where I was standing. “Should speak, should I not speak?” “Will I make her unclean if I talk to her?” “Is she sworn to Silence?”
Through the cocktail of questions, my impulsive side got the upper hand, so I looked in her direction and asked her about how I could go out and come back in. Sister Heidi, a very soft, pleasant and polite lady, let me out and said she would keep the backdoor open for when I will get back.
The garden outside looked manicured and magical. The enchanting old and rugged trees, some with crosses nailed to their trunks, hidden meditative benches, and old paved paths altogether awakened a dimension of my spirit to pure peace. I walked around for about 20 minutes, then I entered the Shrine (like a chapel) to embrace some silence.
The tiny sanctuary was so beautifully lit, the ambience was surreal, As I sat and looked, the glowing candles were in harmony and seemed to be talking to each other. I felt uncomfortable sitting down, I fell to my knees in obedience to the posture of my spirit. I was rapt in the moment.
The Shrine as described by the Sisters, is a “Holy place of pilgrimage and prayer”. It is the life-giving source of the center, and rightly so, it is positioned in the centre of the compound.
I heard someone come in, but there was not even a twitch of desire within me to look back. Time flew by.
Then I heard a large bell, it rang three times, with a brief interval, three times again… and again. I looked at my watch, it was 6pm. I guessed that was a call for supper. I didn’t need to go and eat, as that was not on my To-Do list. However, I took that as a cue to move to my next location, the graveyard scene.
I carefully studied the row of engraved marble stones, with the names of Sisters who are no more. I counted about 26 on one line, with the last addition marked “2006”. One could see that the marble stone still looked new, hence felt like she could be some where not too far off, I felt nearer to her than the older ones, odd. Ironically, it felt like everything was alive and speaking. Actually, I looked around a few times instinctively to see if someone else was around, there was not a soul within sight.
As I continued, I came across the grave of a Father which said “born in 1931, ordained in 1961, and died in October 2008”. There were fresh flowers growing on top of the heap of dirt, also an engraved marble above where he laid his head. The dark compost made a rectangular outline, I could almost imagine the length of his coffin, which obviously made me wonder how tall he was.
I turned slightly and another symbol drew my attention, it was a huge erect marble cross, with this inscription “Our Way Leads To The Father”. It hit me in a strange but resonant way, as though I needed to catch up with a missed breath. As I stood there in profound meditation, I realized yet again another time lapse, I needed to head back to the house. Time flew by.
Back upstairs, I sat in the old chair placed at angle facing my bed, and thinking to myself “I want so much out of my time here”.
I felt an urge to write a different journal entry. I started writing this, and I was gone again. When I came back to the moment, I realized it was 7:30pm already and I needed to get to the next Discipline. So, here’s where I stop writing. Two more hours and I will put my lights off.
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