7 Days of Silence with the Monks: Why Silence Wasn’t Quiet

19 hours ago
5 min read

There has never been a time in my life where I have truly stopped…until this week.

Not slowed down.

Not taken a break.

Not stepped away for a weekend.

Stopped.

No phone.

No speaking.

No distractions.

No reading.

No journaling.

No music.

No TV.

No technology of any kind.

There was nothing to reach for…except God.

Just me…God…and silence.

For seven days, I lived at a monastery in complete silence. And while I thought I was going there to find clarity, what I found was something very different.

The Noise I Couldn’t Escape

The first thing I realized was this:

Silence doesn’t mean quiet.

Even without the outside world, my mind was loud.

Songs played on repeat in my head.

Thoughts jumped from one thing to the next.

My mind searched for something—anything—to hold onto.

I didn’t realize how much I rely on input…until there was none.

No book to process.

No journal to organize my thoughts.

No music to shift my mood.

No distraction to escape myself.

Just…me.

And everything I had been avoiding, consciously or unconsciously, started to rise.

When Everything Surfaces

Without distraction, everything comes up.

Questions about my life.

My purpose.

My relationships.

My future.

I found myself trying to think my way to peace.

If I could just process enough…connect enough dots…figure things out…then I would feel settled.

But instead, I noticed something deeper:

I wasn’t finding answers.

I was continuing a pattern.

A lifelong habit of believing that clarity comes from thinking harder.

Living Without a Clock

Time at the monastery wasn’t measured by productivity.

It was measured by prayer.

Lauds.

Vespers.

Mass.

Bells would ring, and we would gather.

Everything else in between was simply…living.

Walking.

Sitting.

Breathing.

Being.

There was no pressure to do.

And surprisingly…that was uncomfortable.

The Unexpected Connection

One of the most powerful parts of the week was something I never expected:

The deep connection I felt with people I never spoke to.

The monks.

And the others who were there on their own personal retreats.

We would see each other each day during Lauds, Vespers, and Mass.

People came and went.

No introductions.

No conversations.

No names.

And yet…

It felt like we knew each other.

Like we were friends.

Like we were walking the same path—together.

There was something sacred about that.

We didn’t need words, because we were aligned in something deeper.

We were all there for the same reason:

To be with God.

And in that shared purpose, there was connection.

I began to understand why I felt so close to the monks, even without speaking.

It wasn’t about conversation.

It was about what they carried.

A deep sense of purpose
A knowing…of God, of why they were there
A kindness in their eyes
A humility in their presence
A depth of prayer and love for Christ

I could feel it.

And I believe they could feel mine.

There was a quiet understanding:

We are here for the same reason.

The Prayer That Changed Everything

During one of the services, a monk opened with a prayer that stopped me:

“God, please open my soul to allow You in. Release any blockage that stands between me and You.”

I couldn’t shake it.

Because I started to realize…

Maybe the problem wasn’t that I needed more answers.

Maybe there was something in me that was blocking what God was already trying to do.

And instead of trying to figure everything out…

What if I just allowed Him in?

The Shift

Somewhere in the middle of the week, something changed.

Not dramatically.

Quietly.

The urgency to figure everything out began to fade.

The constant need to process…to solve…to understand…

It softened.

And in its place was a simple realization:

Stop searching for happiness…just be happy.

Not because everything is clear.

Not because life is figured out.

But because peace isn’t something you arrive at through thinking.

It’s something you experience through presence.

Simplicity

As the days went on, I felt a growing desire to simplify everything.

My thoughts.

My time.

My life.

Even things like money, possessions, and plans began to feel…less significant.

Not unimportant.

Just…not the source of peace.

The Tension

If I’m honest, there were hard moments.

Moments of confusion.

Moments of longing.

Moments where I felt lost.

I didn’t leave with clear answers about my life.

But I left with something more unexpected:

Peace…in the unknown.

The Moment I Felt It

The tears didn’t come during the week.

They came when I was leaving.

And then again, during one of the final services, when I was sprinkled with holy water.

In that moment, I felt it.

Deeply.

Like Jesus was with me.

Not something I could explain.

Just something I knew.

Re-Entry

Leaving the monastery was peaceful.

The drive felt quiet.

Beautiful.

Still.

But the moment I stepped back into the world, I felt the pull.

The pull to check messages.

To respond.

To start doing again.

To start processing again.

I found it hard to stay present.

Hard to stay focused.

And yet…I was aware of it.

More aware than I’ve ever been before.

What I Realized After

The monastery wasn’t the destination.

It was the reset.

The real work is here.

In everyday life.

In relationships.

In uncertainty.

In the areas where I don’t have answers.

Especially in the parts of my life that still feel unresolved.

And instead of trying to figure them out…

I come back to that prayer:

God, open my soul.

Remove anything that stands between You and me.

Living It Now

As I sat on my balcony after leaving, looking out at the water, I had a simple realization:

I don’t need to have everything figured out to feel peace.

I don’t need clarity to be present.

I can be excited about the future…

and still be fully here today.

A Different Way to Live

This week didn’t give me all the answers.

But it gave me something better.

A new way to live.

To stop trying to solve everything.

To stop searching endlessly for clarity.

To stop filling every quiet moment.

And instead…

To trust.

To surrender.

To be present.

To just…be.

Closing

I don’t know what’s next in every area of my life.

But I do know this:

I trust God to lead the way.

And for today…

That’s enough.

Side Note:

Since I wasn’t journaling or writing during the week, it was suggested that I try “art” instead—something more of a body experience than a mind one. My therapist has shared that things like coloring, knitting, cross-stitch, and puzzles can actually be a form of meditation, helping quiet the mind through the body.

As a child, I loved drawing bubble letters, so I began writing my feelings that way throughout the day and coloring the pages. I also spent time cross-stitching and working on a beautiful puzzle, which became another way to stay present.

A few glimpses from that part of the week…