Tag Archives: eccentricities

Squirrely

I stumbled on a rare silent retreat the other day; so very unusual in this nation of convivial, chatty, sociable sorts of people. It was remarkably pleasant not to have to make small talk with everyone.

New to (silent) retreats? Here are my tips:

In my experience, charity allows for a simple smile and nod as you interact with someone — for instance when passing in a doorway, or if you need to cross in front of them to get to your seat. However, the eye contact and smile can trigger conversation (since to acknowledge someone and then fail to say hello and ask how they are doing would be extremely rude). If that happens a friendly bigger smile and nod while moving on will reassure the person that you are not angry at them, that they are safe and okay, and that you are just moving right along because you aren’t supposed to chat.

Another charity is to just gently ignore the people who can’t stop talking. Shushing them really doesn’t help, because they talk out of nerves, and aggressive gestures or looks will just add to their anxiety, making them more squirrely.

If you can’t hear a particular talk very well because of the chatty couple nearby or the loud fan or the bad microphone, don’t worry. Your Guardian Angel is taking notes, and if you really need to know anything, it will be presented to you in some form in the future. I didn’t believe this when I first heard it, back when I used to frantically take copious notes lest I miss some treasure of wisdom being spouted by an admired speaker, but it really is true. Just ask for whatever you need.

No matter how good or bad you are, take advantage of confession at retreats! You will have plenty of time to ask questions, not be sure what to say, get advice on steps to take to untangle complicated problems, get encouragement from very experienced priests, find out how easy some supposedly complicated problems are to solve, and so on. Confession in your parish is usually fairly restricted – short time available, long line, not much privacy, have to make an appointment, and so on. So sign right up when you have a chance during a retreat!

Take advantage of convent gardens for walking in between other activities. Keeps the blood flowing, good for the head, gets out the nerves, gives your poor mind time to process what’s being taught, and so on.

Sleeping quarters can be like summer camp in the 1980s (uncomfortable mattresses, ill-fitting sheets, mosquitos, loud fans, weird roommates, not enough hot water, and so forth). Keep expectations really low. Remember you’ll enjoy telling the story of the crazy adventure later. It’s only for a few days, you won’t die. Don’t let the devil pull you into a sulk!

Apparently “people with squirrels” is a thing. Check out this page.

Shrek

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We were waiting by the stables for a rental horse ride in rural Brazil. When we arrived a competent looking man was leaving, and said our guide was running just a bit late. “Late like ten more minutes or half an hour?” I asked. “Oh, not half an hour. Maybe ten minutes!” I assumed he had a terrible sense of time and was also being optimistic and tripled the estimate.

About 20 minutes later a man stomped through the gate. He was broad-shouldered and neckless. As he climbed the short driveway he swung his clenched arms in the air and gave a couple of howling roars. I assumed he might be a non-verbal disabled man, perhaps a relative of someone who lived nearby. Once he reached us he stammered some not terribly coherent conversation. It took a few minutes to understand that this was our guide. We frowned at each other in great doubt, but sat patiently near the stables while he stomped around swearing (gently) and howling at the horses, who were not interested in being in a hurry.

By day two we had become accustomed to his alternating grunts, howls, roars and conversation. He appeared to be, after all, someone of fairly normal mental function and good intentions, and the odd noises were simply his enthusiastic expressions of frustration when any minor difficulty was met. He was also, perhaps, socially awkward and shy, and so he seemed much more normal by the end of the second day when we drew him out with friendly conversation about horses, the weather, the route, and so on: “What is this plant good for? Does it have fruit?” I asked. “It’s good for giving thorns,” he grumbled.

In any case, we soon decided he reminded us totally of Shrek. And once that image was in our minds we couldn’t shake it, so Shrek he will remain.