Lessons from a Wireless Weekend
8 Mar
I went wireless last weekend, and I mean that in the old-school way – no TVs, laptops, iPods, Blackberries or even radios.
Instead, I spent a couple days at St. Francis Springs, a beautiful Franciscan retreat center nestled on 140 wooded acres in the North Carolina sticks – a getaway arranged as a 40th birthday gift from my awesome wife. For most of the weekend, there was just me, the Catholic priest who runs the place and about 15 Episcopalians attending their church leadership retreat.
Apart from two irate dogs who charged when I tried to jog past their house (“Never go left out of the driveway,” Fr. Louis Canino told me later), the weekend was defined by delicious home-cooked meals and blessed chunks of silence.
“How are your meetings going?” I asked one of the Episcopalians, an under-achiever who works three days a week as a pediatrician in a nonprofit health clinic and the other two days as an Episcopal priest. “You know,” he said, “I kind of wish I was doing what you’re doing.”
Which was very little.
I mostly just read, walked the trails or prayed, and sometimes all three at once. And then I did those same things over and over again because there really wasn’t much else to do.
You hear a lot these days about the many downsides of our global addiction to technology – constant distraction, shortened attention spans, rising stress, stunted relationships. And those all sound like great reasons to escape now and then to places where our fancy devices don’t exist or don’t work.
The biggest benefit from my retreat: a continuity of thought and feeling that I almost never experience.
I went into the weekend wondering how I might correct my own bias toward constant action and activity, which has gradually crowded contemplation and reflection out of my life. So on Friday night, I started considering some important questions: How can I be a better Catholic? A better husband, father and son? A more focused employee and writer?
As I read, walked through the woods and savored some roasted meat and vegetables, I ruminated on these questions, as I have many times before. The difference this time: the insights that gradually arose had time to build on one another and gather momentum, instead of being fractured almost instantaneously by random e-mails, televised sports or the compulsion to check my book’s Amazon ranking 10 times a day.
I was startled by some of the things that occurred to me as I laid on benches staring up at the late winter sky. By Sunday morning, I needed a good 20 minutes to jot down all of the new and significant thoughts that had popped into my head.
The challenge now will be actually doing something with them. But that’s a good problem to have. And perhaps the perfect excuse to schedule another retreat — after, of course, receiving permission from my awesome wife.
Looking forward to hearing some of the thoughts you had…
Sounds good, Robin. We can discuss over a game of H-O-R-S-E.
Stephen, I loved reading this post. Last year, after a few years of far, far too much activity, I spent a wireless week at a monastery. While many asked, “what did you do?” because they could not imagine an unplugged week, I simply thought, I wish I could come back every few months!
Your time away sounds wonderful and it also seems like a truly perfect gift for a birthday. May you find ways to honor the inner silence, and be a (Jesuit term alert!) “a contemplative in action.”
Hi Fran — great to hear from you! A full week away at a monastery? Now that sounds like a fantastic vacation. Funny you should mention “contemplatives in action” because my reading/lectio list for the retreat weekend was exclusively Jesuit — Tim Muldoon’s “Ignatian Workout” (a superb book on prayer) and Fr. Jim Martin’s “In Good Company” and “The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything” (both outstanding reads, as Martin’s books always are).
Love the underacheiver’s cameo. Great post, keep them coming.
Hey Andrea — yeah, it’s guys like that who always make me wonder what the heck I’m doing with my life. But at least you’re enjoying my posts!
I have an unplugged weekend a couple of times a month when I go up to my cabin. No phone, TV, or Internet up there. It’s wonderful.
Good for you, Galen. I’d like to make a regular habit of it, too — it’s hard to overstate how refreshing it is.
how amazing to have this wonderful gift. so glad you were able to have it! i love doing things like this, and it is harder and harder now to disconnect. i hate that. i think these types of technology free weekend retreats should be mandatory. i have a special place in the mountains, a lodge near asheville, and a place on the remote, quiet part of the outer banks that i escape to when i can, usually once a year. i’ve had company, but i like to go alone. when i lived out west it was driving 6 hours from tucson to san diego by myself to get some ocean air in my veins. when i lived in austin i went on several retreats in various places. it was so necessary for me to do this, and anywhere i am, i try to find special places to retreat to. one of my favorites was a birthday present (maybe for my 30th?) to cape cod in winter for a women’s retreat. i got to pair up with a partner for an activity, and she was this incredible woman from argentina, and we sat knee to knee and did the most powerful 10 minute visualization exercise together- a truly unforgettable experience!
Great comment, Val — and sorry it took me a few days to acknowledge it! You clearly understand exactly what I’m talking about. There’s nothing like getting a chance to clear your head a little bit.