Oct. 03--Nancy Morris had me at "Quiet Rooms."
She was telling me about the Tau Center, a spirituality ministry of the Wheaton Franciscans where she is marketing specialist. It welcomes people to spend some time in contemplation, meditation or however they find peace and introspection.
They can walk the campus' labyrinth. They can walk along the milelong Peace Path through waving prairie grasses and past benches and gongs.
And they can spend the day in one of the center's Quiet Rooms.
Which are just that -- rooms in a wing of the Franciscans' motherhouse adjacent to Marianjoy Hospital in Wheaton, that are simply quiet.
What they have:
A few comfortable chairs or a sofa. A cozy throw. A candle. A few books and cards with suggestions, quotations or prayers to guide an inward-looking journey.
What they don't have:
A computer. Noise. Your to-do list. Anyone else.
I was in.
I went there last week. Energized by my own tradition's day of contemplation, the recent Jewish high holiday of Yom Kippur, I thought I would try the Tau Center, which is Catholic-based but welcomes all.
Despite my enthusiasm, however, that morning found me in a mild panic.
Hour after hour with nothing scheduled? What exactly would I do?
Couldn't I knock off just one or two chores? Call the plumber? Zero out my email inbox? Talk about peace and contentment ...
I could do what I wanted.
"We're not going to give you a plan," said Sister Glenna Czachor, director of the Tau Center. "We're not going to say, 'OK, here's how you do a day reflection.' It's more of a self-discovery -- what works for you. Let the day unfold for yourself."
But filling it with ordinary obligations seemed a waste of what Sister Glenna described as a precious opportunity.
"We all have the pace of our life where we're with our family, with our work, with our social organizations and the activities that we do," she said. "But there comes a time when we really need the rhythm of downtime. In spiritual language, we call that contemplative time.
"People might say it's time to recharge their batteries, for rest and relaxation. But in the spiritual sense, it's giving yourself the time to look at the big picture. What about my active life is important to me? Where do I find meaning?"
People long for this, said Sharon Devo, program specialist at the Tau Center, but rarely take time for it.
"To be giving ourselves permission to truly have space to do nothing, to sit and reflect, to put the book down and look out the window or walk a prairie path -- I think there's a real thirst for people to have that," she said.
People can come to the Tau Center for a few hours on an afternoon when the kids are in school. (In Chicago, the Cenacle Retreat and Conference Center in Lincoln Park also welcomes individuals for a day's personal retreat. Both centers ask for a modest donation; neither would turn anyone away who couldn't pay.)
"It's like dipping your toe into the water," Devo said.
So I dipped.
And left my laptop in the trunk of my car.
What did I do?
I meditated, which I suppose could count as winnowing down my to-do list; meditation has been on it for years.
I spent a remarkably peaceful and relaxing hour drawing in an adult coloring book (the Tau Center has a room of art books and supplies).
I strolled the Peace Path. I walked the labyrinth. I napped, which is not just permissible but, as evidence of true relaxation, encouraged.
Mostly, however, I just drank in the silence.
In my Quiet Room, the only sound was the soft hum of the ventilating fan. The entire Tau Center wing was quiet; I barely heard, or saw, another soul.
It seems like such a small thing, the absence of noise. But the silence settled over me like a soft blanket. I slowed down; I calmed down. I listened to the scratch of my pencil against the coloring book's paper; I listened to the sound of my breathing.
"Sometimes a day in silence is awkward," Sister Glenna had told me. "We're so used to noise. Even at home when I'm doing laundry, I have to have music on.
"But in the quiet, you hear something you don't hear in the active life. Turning the radio off, turning the TV off, you hear other things."
Devo finds herself amused when people come to the Tau Center determined to work as hard at their spiritual retreat as they do at work, vowing that they are going to "intensely reflect."
"When you connect with them at the end of the day, it may be that they just daydreamed or walked or napped, and the day wasn't what they expected or planned out," she said.
"I find that the most gratifying -- when they're leaving without being able to say something specific happened, but they feel more at ease."
I left feeling more at ease.
And on my way home, I bought a coloring book.
blbrotman@tribpub.com
