Practicing Solitude (Part 3)

I walked into the large but empty dining room, where a tattooed man in a pony tail greeted me by name. “Kelly? I have a place set for you down here. You’re the only one here today.” I felt like an honored guest as he walked me to the head table and began to spout off potential lunch options he would cook for me. I stopped him at “steak.” “That sounds wonderful!” I said.

I feasted. Alone in the mural-painted dining room on a linen-covered table, I thoroughly enjoyed homemade soup, a caesar salad and filet mignon, thinly sliced and sautéed in a garlic and red wine sauce. I washed it all down with a large pitcher of iced tea and fresh lemon, all the while watching the rain pour outside my window. A white lily in a vase sat to the right of my place setting.

It was almost surreal in its irony. Just a week ago, as our toilet flooded and devastatingly damaged much of my second floor and a bit of my first, I shook my fist at God. “I wouldn’t treat one of my children like this!” And now here I was, being treated like royalty, with my own personal chef and lunch of filet mignon. I felt like a princess. God has a sense of humor and impeccable timing. This act of receiving did my soul worlds of good.

I spent the remainder of my day reading, wandering, and thinking. I would love to have explored the beautiful grounds that surrounded the monastery, but the weather was uncooperative. Perhaps next time...

The day flew by. I had been just a little bit hesitant about this Day of Solitude, thinking that I’d get bored. Or lonely. But it was quite the opposite. I felt renewed and refreshed, like I’d dove into a pool on a hot summer’s day. The time spent in silence, away from all the other external voices and distractions, allowed the internal voice of God to come bubbling up to the surface and be heard with greater clarity. It was if the blurry edges of my life were fillled in with bright magic marker. I learned a lot about myself and some next steps that I should take. I would do this again someday soon.

I drove home at the end of the day in a hazy fog. It felt metaphoric, somehow.