"Not to be onto something is to be in despair." – Walker Percy in The Moviegoer
Ever since I came across the above statement in Percy's book, it has haunted me. That's why I've quoted it before. Do we really need to be perpetually "onto something?" If we are not, do we fall into despair?
Busy caregivers may have difficulty connecting with Percy's wisdom. First line staff, preoccupied with seemingly endless demands, may yearn for moments of rest when they are "onto" nothing more than silence. Living out our our calling requires activity, doesn't it? I gradually discovered that responding to my calling asked more of me than constant motion.
During a period in the mid-90s, while working for a publicly-traded company, I did not feel I was onto anything meaningful. Adrift from my calling, I swam hard for the anchorage of a job where I could express my voice.
Until I was "onto something," I truly did feel in despair. During a two-day silent fast, I encountered what Churchill called the black dog of depression.
I had earned enough money. Why was I afraid of a life of peace and reflection? Why was I so anxious to pursue and so reluctant to simply accept whatever came along?
It has to do with my nature and the nature of many. Striving seems endemic to some personalities. At a deeper level, I despaired in silence because I had not evolved in my relationship to God as Love. We must find Love in community before we can experience God in solitude.
There are these searing words from Thomas Merton (below): "As soon as you are really alone you are with God." Is this true for you? Have you ever been alone enough to feel the hem of God's Love?
At retirement age, I have no intention of ever retiring. The difference for me is that I understand my work as something I must do for my own state of wellness. But this does not foreclose times of solitude. And in this solitude, I hope to receive God's Love.
Solitude need not be frightening. According to Merton, it is our chance to join with Love. After such solitude, perhaps we can return to the world as better prisms of Love's light.
If you knew you had only one year to live, would you continue doing your work? I now know that I would. My work is my calling. Traveling the world, playing golf, or retiring in Florida is not. This year, I plan to find some solitude. And this time, I will not be afraid.
How about you? Have you experienced a silent retreat? Are you uneasy in times of extended silence?
-Erie Chapman
Journal of Sacred Work 
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