Silence in Greece
In the previous episode we reflected on finding goodness in the mundane. I took you on a journey to visit my grandparents in San Diego and together, you and I, unpacked the souvenir of learning to celebrate. Celebrating small things, big things and celebrating with others.
Today we are unpacking the souvenir of silence and solitude. It’s just a little different vibe than talking about celebrations. There can be so much goodness in the simple moments of silence and solitude.
For some, this sounds like a nightmare! You may be someone that loves your people. You love the joy of being surrounded by your friends and family, or even the joy of absolute strangers. For you, strangers are like a sea of new friends just waiting to be made.
For others, silence and solitude sounds good but impossible. You are forever followed by other people – probably a little human that asks a lot of questions. They may even follow you all the way to the bathroom for no privacy.
Then there’s those of us who have an abundance of solitude and we struggle to enjoy the silence. Maybe you are like me, a podcast addict because it feels better to hear the comforting hum of friendly voices so you do not get trapped in the hamster wheel of your own thoughts. Or maybe you busy yourself with all the projects and say yes to all the events so you can escape the solitude that surrounds you.
Each of us carry a different lifestyle with different choices that shape our relationship with silence and solitude.
Whatever your relationship looks like, will you slow down for a few minutes today to reflect on the potential benefits of creating space for this souvenir? A little more silence. A little more stillness. Today you and I are traveling all the way to Greece.
Just imagine, you look to your right, out the car window. You see the curving rocky coastline and the mediterranean sea. You are driving down the one highway along the coast of the island. Don’t mind the locals speeding past on the shoulder of the highway. Apparently that’s normal.
We are exploring the port city of Rethymno on the island of Crete. It’s a fairly quiet town in the off season of March. The salty sea air is chilly and helps you breathe freer immediately.
Originally, I travelled to Crete with two friends. I was a last minute addition to the trip. I was also coming out of a season of high anxiety and deep situational depression. The sea salt air literally felt like life filling my lungs when we stepped off the plane.
For about a year and a half I had been craving solitude. I did not like being around people. It was exhausting. I also did not like being alone. Go figure. These two conflicting feelings left me exhausted at all times. Traveling with two friends left me uncertain. How would I handle being around these two people constantly?
A few days into the trip we found ourselves wandering around Rethymno. We had just eaten dinner. Travel tip – look for restaurants with a chef in the kitchen. It means it’s authentic Greek food. Not just some busy hipster place with a crowd of young people looking cool.
My friends and I decided to walk back to our Airbnb as the sun was setting. The sea breeze makes me pull my scarf a little tighter and tuck it into my rain jacket. We look up to see a castle from the 16th century. It has a fortress wall wrapping all the way around it. You cannot take your eyes off of it because it’s massive. I just keep asking myself, “But how does one get in?”
We see a small door in the side of the fortress wall and a rocky path that leads up to the door. We have nothing better to do so we climb up.
There’s a warm flicker of light inside the door. We push it open to find a tiny room carved out of the stone wall. In this tiny room there’s a church set up, a prayer room of sorts. Greek Orthodox paintings of saints tucked into stone like shelves. Small candles are lit. There’s old wooden chairs and benches to sit and pray, think, just be.
The inviting glow. The steady silence. It’s memsmerizing.
It’s here in this space I find myself carefully wrapping up this souvenir of silence and solitude to take home with me. Solitude, a thing I had been trying to escape for so long because it felt so lonely.
Here, in this moment I am able to rest in it. For once, sitting with my own thoughts does not feel lonely.
The three of us take our time and trickle out of the stone room one at a time. We sit on the stone wall just outside the door. Our backs to the little sacred space and our gaze overlooking the Mediteranean Sea as the sun sets purple with a hint of orange.
No talking.
We simply listen to the waves hit the coast. The few people out and about. Deep breaths.
Why is this such a gift? Why do I want to wrap this moment up and gift it to you as a souvenir?
Silence and solitude, it may seem impossible or scary. In reality it helps us gain a calm and peace the rest of life does not have room to offer. It gives us space to remember we are indeed delightful to be with just as we are. We do not have to be doing anything. We can sit without journaling a single word, or studying a single idea or truth. We do not have to speak profoundly or finish a project. We are valuable just as we are.
As much as I’d like to whisk us all away to that little coastal city in Crete and sit on that wall together in silence, I know that’s not totally realistic. However, silence and solitude is within reach for each of us. I’ll leave you with this today,
What might it look like for you to steal some silent solitude in your mundane life?
Is it the quiet moment sitting in the car before going inside?
Is it waking up early or taking a walk (sans podcast) on your lunch break?
Is it sitting on the back deck as the sun rises and setting your journal or book to the side?
What might come to mind in those few moments of silence and solitude?
Gratitude for the simple things
Appreciation for the moment
Thankfulness for someone you love or struggle to love
Contentment in remembering you are worth spending time with just as you are
I dare you to find some silence and solitude in your days. See what comes to mind. Do not be afraid to sit with you. You have been designed to be pretty amazing.
