It's that time of year again.
The leaves are still turning, a chill is in the air. And by the time you read this, I will be safely ensconced in the wonder of Holy Cross Monastery for my parish's annual silent retreat.
It's funny how much comfort the silence of this retreat brings me, considering I already pretty much live like a monk. It's pretty silent at home. But I'm not home all that often, except to eat, sleep, and do endless loads of laundry. So it feels luxurious to be surrounded by people who are also keeping silent, allowing ourselves to be drawn in by the rituals of the Daily Office (the daily services kept by the monks).
It's not for everyone. But it's for me and I look forward to it every year.
I'll see ya on the flip side, Sunday night.