Portiuncula, Illinois
They say, “Come to the woods, for here is rest.” And this is my destination: Portiuncula, the Center of Prayer, Illinois.
The woods hold a hypnotic silence. In this silence, without objects, humans, stimulation, excitement, and attraction, the external quiet begins to meet the internal stillness.
In This Silence, I Discover
I realize that in the absence of happiness, there is also an absence of sadness. Happiness and sadness are two sides of the same coin. One wave rises and falls, and the other follows. Yet the silence, the source from which they arise and return, remains constant.
This paradox of silence is striking; it seems empty yet is full. It still stirs every emotion. I find peace and a roller coaster of feelings within this void of silence.
As I desire happiness, I become attached, not just to joy, but to the suffering that comes with chasing it. The more I seek, the more I cling to both sides of the coin.
But if I allow happiness to come, without pursuit, and let grief pass, without resistance, I rest in the silence that births them both. Emotions move like clouds and waves, never permanent, always passing.
The Nature of the Mind
In extended silence, I watch the mind’s tendencies, which constantly fool me into getting out of it. For the mind, silence is boring and makes no sense. My mind is afraid of that silence; when faced with it, it will start creating all the stories to get me away.
For the mind, Silence is nothing; it is a no thing. The mind will jump, speak, and shout to get me out.
It grows restless and uncomfortable in this “nothingness.” It starts telling stories, creating distractions, inventing worries, begging for action, analysis, or planning.
Silence is threatening. It is where the mind loses its grip, its illusions of control, and its very identity.
The mind fears this silence because it knows that this is the source from which it comes. If I could stay in that source, my mind could not fool me anymore. By not fooling me, it would lose its power and existence, and silence would win.
The mind will fight this silence with all means.
The Inner Battle
Over ten days, I enjoyed this arena and watched this inner battle: the mind and the body resisting silence, wrestling it, trying to win.
But in witnessing this struggle without engagement, I witnessed the astonishing scene I have ever experienced. The dynamic between mind and silence is a relationship: friend and enemy, lover and hater, servant and master, teacher and student.
The Chatter and the Virus
In the heart of silence, I uncovered how much my inner chatter has intoxicated my life. It’s not just a single thought that causes suffering, but the inner talks I spin around and amplify.
This inner storytelling is a virus, a parasite that grows stronger as I indulge it, pulling me away from the magnificence of silence.
A thought can come, either I let it be or let it go. But it starts spreading when I amplify it, give it meaning, repeat it, and attach to it. And suffering grows.
The problem isn’t the thought itself, whether good or bad; it’s the habit of feeding it and the value I place on the inner dialogue.
The Meaning of Purity
In this retreat, I understood purity not as perfection, but as the absence of these viruses, this inner noise. That is where silence lives.
Before this retreat, I believed that replacing negative thoughts with positive ones was a sign of progress. But I now see that true faith doesn’t require inner talk, and my path is best known, with one thought, one action at a time.
Silence doesn’t need commentary.
There is a greater power that knows my way and every way. My inner dialogue is a sign of a lack of trust in the one who knows the way, and a sign that my ego, my limited mind, knows better the way.
Faith knows the way even when I don’t.
The Wolves Within
Letting go of inner chatter is difficult because it gives a false sense of control, security, and approval. But the more I fall in love with silence, the quieter that chatter becomes.
And so, a question arises:
If I have two wolves, one of silence, and one of inner talk. Which shall I feed?
This choice defines everything.
It determines whether I live as a servant to my mind or as the master of it.