the sound of silence.

All of my tendencies are so painfully contradictory.
My love for people and fellowship fight with my longing for solitude and retreat.
Sometimes I am thankful for the chatter within the city because it almost seems satisfied enough without my voice or my contribution. But then, I resent the city for that same reason.
When I finally escape and enjoy the freedom of nature and silence, I always seem to want to taint the calm with my screeching voice, not understanding what to do in the sound of silence.
My heart seems to be happiest while basking in the glory of simplicity and uncomplicated worship of God.
But I am the city with no garden, no escape from the sirens, no break in my to-do list, no real trees to climb, no true, natural escape from the man-made chaos. Surely I was not intended to just be restless and barely satisfied for the next two and half (or more) years.Right?

I have always been so deeply intrigued by the lives of monks and the fruitful disciplines of monasticism. In the last few months, I have devoured information relating to this way of life and I've decided that it's for me. No, I'm not dropping out of school to join a nunnery or even for the Simple Way in Philly (though you should know that I've definitely considered it).

Instead, I think that humbling myself as a servant to all--not to myself and my own ill-conceived plans--and enjoying sanctuary and communion with God every day is something that I should be able to experience all the time. Why should I find myself envious of the abbots at their monasteries, who have all the time in the world to worship Jesus with abandon to the things of this world? I don't need to steal away into nature and escape from the noise in my mind that city only amplifies. That can happen here. I can have a simple life, rich with the glory of heaven right here...I think.