Month: February 2025

The Power of Silence: Reflections on Mindfulness Retreat

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“In the silence of the heart, God speaks.” Mother Teresa

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Silent Retreat? 🧘‍♀️

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but I was enjoying lunch with a friend on a Saturday when she told me she was attending a silent meditation retreat in two weeks, and asked if I would be interested in it. The retreat, she said, was sponsored by The Mindfulness Tree, a meditation community in Charleston, WV, and it would be led by Dr. Christine L. Blice-Baum, MDiv, DMA. Curiosity bloomed, and in a matter of days, I was also registered for the retreat.

In the days leading up to the retreat, I vacillated between feelings of excitement and thoughts of “what-have-I-got-myself-into?” The retreat required spending time in silence with complete strangers, excluding my friend, of course. I kept reminding myself that it wouldn’t be any different than going to an appointment or to the store with numerous others I don’t know. Never once, however, did it cross my mind that this retreat would provide multiple opportunities to come face-to-face with my mind’s resistance and its desire for distractibility.

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Put away those devices 📲

Upon arrival, all participants in the retreat were asked to put up our phones and take off our smartwatches until the time of our departure. We had the choice to leave our devices in our car, in our own purse/bag, or stow them in a zip lock bag that was put away until the end of retreat.  I chose the latter option as a symbolic break-away from technology and, in all honesty, to reduce any temptation to peek in my bag at either device during the day. 

Not having technology was one of the first minor “discomforts” I repeatedly noticed. It began when I tried to check the outside temperature by looking at my wrist, and then did it several more times! What time is it? No smartwatch. Does the radar show my hometown receiving as much rain as here?  No phone. Blice-Baum just shared a great idea; I should type that in my notes. No phone. I should take a picture of the church’s pipe organ. No phone. Did my husband remember to  . . . . 

Participants in seated meditation.

Lessons of Stillness 🤫

This was my first a-ha moment. I was astounded to realize the amount of time my mind spends in a day consumed with thoughts of all the ways I can implement/use my smartphone and its companion watch. What’s crazy is that I am not a big user of social media, so I had this notion that giving up my devices would not be a big deal. While on one hand, it wasn’t, on the other hand, I was humbled to realize, social media consumer or not, my mind has been trained to be distracted by devices. 

The second big lesson had to do with a notion known as “custody of the eyes”–averting the gaze to avoid visual distractions in order to maintain focus. This practice was a challenge throughout the entirety of the session. 

The retreat schedule was well organized, sessions of seated meditation were interspersed with walking, movement, and standing mediations; however, my mind kept wandering and niggling me to look around at my surroundings. During walking and movement meditations, I had to keep redirecting my attention back to the meditation focus at hand because my mind had the tendency to wander off into people-watching mode. 

Participants take part in a silent walking meditation

The third lesson: I also squabbled with my mind’s habit of entering “squirrel-mode”–moments when something in the environment, or on the wall caught my attention, and my mind would launch off into associations with whatever my eyes had noticed. I knew I was distractible, but I never realized my mind was like a puppy visiting a new environment.

Another eye-opener occurred during our silent lunch. Blice-Baum, after sharing a prayer of gratitude and blessing for the food, led the participants through a short exercise of mindful eating. Then, we were directed to continue to enjoy our meal in silence, engaging all of our senses in the eating experience. This was when my mind really rebelled.  

Since I was a young girl reading the backs of cereal boxes at the breakfast table, I have always read while eating–newspapers, magazines, books–which were later replaced with digital versions. Without such distraction, I noticed my tendency to want to eat quickly and my eyes repeatedly searched around for something on which to focus other than my food. It took time for my mind to settle, slow down, and focus on taste and other sensations associated with the simple act of eating. This was a shocker because I love the taste, textures, and fragrance of food. In fact, I love to eat, but I clearly need to practice eating mindfully more often.

Group picture of participants.

Positive takeaways 🙌

In spite of all the mental obstacles and resistance I experienced throughout the retreat, I walked away feeling refreshed and renewed. Remaining fully focused and present on one’s own breath, a mantra, or an image isn’t easy, but there is something to be said about taking time to slow down and focus on one thing at a time. I felt as if I was coming home to my heart, and my own inner knowing, despite the fact I had to repeatedly redirect my mind like a toddler walking around the Tamarack Marketplace.

Would I do another silent meditation retreat? Absolutely! Many of the things that had been worrying me when I arrived at the retreat felt less weighty when I left. I experienced a recommitment to my personal practice of meditation/mindfulness and was inspired by new techniques to incorporate, not only in my own practice, but also to include with the yoga/mindfulness class I teach at school. Furthermore, in the days that have followed, there has been an overall increase in my sense of gratitude, along with a renewed sense of purpose. I have also noticed a calmer mind with a significant decrease in the power of those negative voices that love to chatter about in my head.

 Most of all, I am much more aware of how easily and quickly my mind can be distracted. These mental diversions on the surface seem as shiny and fun as a carousel ride to a young child, but they can lead to avoidance of the moment at hand–knowledge and understanding of what is going on in the here and now. Therefore, focus––especially given all the digital distractions–more than ever requires diligence, dedication, and continued redirection. And, one of the best ways to do this is the practice of meditation, mindfully completing tasks, or by simply connecting with our own breath.

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Interested in Learning more?

If you are interested in learning more about meditation, would like more information about The Mindfulness Tree, or would like to connect with Blice-Baum, please visit www.themindfulnesstree.life. 

Dr. Christine L. Blice-Baum, MDiv, DMA

Navigating Life’s Uncertainties One Moment at a Time

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“Take one moment at a time and do the next right thing.”–Eleanor Amerman Sutphen

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What Did I hear? 👂

My ears perked up when I heard the guest on a podcast share the above phrase based upon  a poem by Sutphen, but made popular by both Elisabeth Elliot and Carl Jung. I had just arrived home with several bags filled with groceries to put away. Setting down the bags, I typed the phrase into my phone’s reminder app in order to remember it. Then, ironically enough, I returned to the next moment: putting away the groceries.

Like a persistent earworm, that phrase kept looping through my brain. Maybe it was Divine Providence, or maybe my subconscious niggled me to recognize the words I needed to hear. Regardless, the universe had offered me a nugget of wisdom to the question I had been asking, but had not yet been able to fully articulate: What can I do in the face of the difficult and uncertain life moment in which I found myself?  

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Snowy Days can lead to Sluggish Ways 😏

The month of January was a slippery, and less than stellar, start to the new year.  All around me, icy roads, alleys, and sidewalks served as a reminder that I was struggling to find my footing. As one who is not naturally organized and often has no sense of time, I function optimally with a routine/schedule.  It’s not that I can’t “go with the flow.”  I can do that quite brilliantly, but I don’t accomplish nearly as much, nor do I make as many–if any–inroads towards goals.

It is as if I have been dropped deep into a dark and menacing forest filled with a multitude of statuesque tree shadows and brambling thorny briers. Meanwhile, a multitude of strands in life’s web are criss-crossing in ways that make it feel less integrous, as if at any moment, the winds will shift and blow a hole in the tenuous gossamer nexus of life. I sense time sliding sideways, and I am trying to find my footing, so I don’t fall into the thin ice at the center of the mostly frozen pond. Arms flapping this way and that way, steps shortening, stumbling, and struggling to remain upright because I need to find my stride once more. 

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The Struggle Can be Real 😞

I am not the first, nor am I alone, I suspect, in feeling “something” akin to a crisis–a time in life when I find myself deeply questioning my purpose, my identity, and my role in all that is occurring. It is a time where I feel helpless to help others who need it but won’t accept it; a time with still unachieved goals and dreams, but I struggle to see, much less find, the path forward; and, a time in which I frequently ask myself: Am I doing the best I can with this one precious life I have been given?

Personally speaking, it feels as if the to-do list grows longer by the day, but few items are getting marked off.  While all around me, events, completely out of my control, dictate more chaos. Pixelated ideas frequent my mind, but my brain resists zooming in and focusing on any one thought as if the identity of each idea has been hidden like a person being interviewed for an investigative, undercover documentary. Overthinking, second-guessing, and a feeling of dormancy have entered my mental home and overstayed their welcome. 

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The Sweet Lesson of Winter Trees ❄️

As I write these words, I pause to gaze out at the trees in my backyard. They too are experiencing dormancy. Deciduous trees have slowed their internal processes and metabolism, halting their own growth in order to conserve energy. Inside the trees, cells have hardened and shrunk. Additionally, the water between the cells has frozen, and the water inside cells is becoming more dense and syrupy. Some trees even grow thicker bark in the winter to create a sheath of preservation until warmer temperatures arrive when growth and leaf production can once more occur.

I take a deep breath and feel the rise of my belly. Dawn’s light has gifted another overcast winter morning. The birds have also risen–chirp, chirp, chirping the gossip of a new day. The rise and fall of their flight, along with their up and down hip-hops along tree branches make me smile. I sigh out the exhale I had been holding, noticing the fall of my belly. With each breath I take, as I continue to ponder the nature beyond my window, I can’t help but notice the rising and falling of my stomach.

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The Rising and the Falling 🌅🌄

The sunrise, the trees, the birds, and even my breath remind me that everything is subject to rising and falling. Our pain and sadness, our joys and happiness, and even current events are all impermanent, rising and falling with the various seasons of life. This season of personal dormancy that has banked to new heights in my mind will eventually thaw like the melting of the once-deep snow. This is the nature of impermanence–the rising and the falling–nothing can last forever. 

Thus, these dark doldrums of winter housed in my mental guest room might be offering me an opportunity to do less, perhaps allowing my creative juices and energy to fully concentrate and thicken, much like the trees in my backyard, into the sweet syrup of forward progress. It will just take the sweet essence of time. And the only way to get there from the dark passages of here is to take one breath, one moment at a time and keep choosing to do the next right thing.