Invitation to Silence and Solitude

As many know, this past semester, my last one at college, was quite a rough one.  On the verge of a mental breakdown, I begged God for the opportunity to "just get away from it all."  It was at that time that an idea came to me - to go on a road trip come May for a week, after school was done.  I began to make plans for this trip, and part of my plans involved purchasing a bookCD from Amazon that was on sale and that had caught my attention: Invitation to Silence and Solitude by Ruth Haley Barton.

Listening to this book probably changed my life, but in ways that are still intangible and unexplainable.  As I listened to the author explain the essence and substance of these two disciplines, I began to identify the overwhelming desires of my own soul to experience these two things.  I realized that there is nothing more that I desire in life right now than silence and solitude.  I am tired of doing, tired of trying and tired of performing - I want the permission to be, and not for anyone else except for myself and God.

The thing that I liked most about this book, I think, is that the author made it all right for a person to seek out silence and solitude, even at the expense of being anti-social.  She made it all right to be selfish for a time, so that we can feel free to be silent and solitude without having to fulfill any external obligations.  She observed that if we give our souls the care they need, they will start caring again on their own.

The only problem with silence and solitude is that they are all but impossible to obtain in this world that we live in.  My week long road-trip/pilgrimage was such a short time, just a quick dip before I had to get out again and into the real world.  I still find myself longing for silence and solitude, but once again the rhythms of everyday life are obstructing its call.  This book remains a reminder to me that solitude will always be there waiting for me, ready to pick up where we left off, if I am willing to take the plunge into the silence.