5 Days of Contemplation at the Cenacle Retreat House

Entrance gate to the Cenacle Retreat House in Varsity Hills, Loyola Heights.

Tomorrow, I end my 5-day retreat and leave the restful sanctuary of the Cenacle retreat house.  It was my first time to try a directed silent retreat and I didn't know what to expect at first. Now, as I leave, I can only count my blessings. Working with my spiritual director Sr. Cecille, was a joy! And being alone with my thoughts, to contemplate on my faith for days, was profoundly satisfying. 

Why have I waited this long to go on silent retreat? All my retreats prior to this have involved being with other people: with my classmates in high school and college; with my family for Holy Week; with my husband in preparation for marriage - but never alone, never in silent contemplation. Until now. And I am overcome with awe and gratitude at how rewarding the last five days of solitude has been. I am in love. With God. With my husband and children. With my work. With all of God's creation. I am just overflowing with energy that springs from within. I am rearing to go! Woohoo! I am an extrovert by nature and a big, healthy dose of introspection makes me feel like a bow, or slingshot, or spring being pulled back, waiting to be released. 

                          

The Cenacle retreat house was structured perfectly to lead me to prayer. The labyrinth, for instance, was a favorite of mine. I'd put one foot in front of the other as I contemplated on an assigned bible reading, or prayed the rosary - with my breath, movement, and words flowing in unison.  Round and round I went, countless times, always moving, while staying in place. What meaningful thoughts came to me while in that labrynth. I cried and smiled, pondered and wondered. Reminisced and hoped. Back and forth I went, in and out of gratitude and grief. I brought with me all I loved, and all I lost - I relived so many journeys - ancient and recent.  Time collapsed, worlds overlapped, I was a child one minute - and with my children, the next. The man walking beside me was God, Jesus, dad, husband, son, friend, mentor, ancestor - taking turns in holding my hand. I turned to Mary, and her face became my mother's, sister's, grandma's, daughter's, friends'. I was crossing the desert, and walking on water, taking the train in Singapore, rollerblading by the beach in Spain, biking in Pasay, walking the dogs in Lipa under the starry sky, husband by my side, with our child in my womb. I was myself, in various stages of my life. I was Jesus performing miracles. I was the adulteress he saved from being stoned; the Pharisee he rebuked; Peter sinking in water. In contemplation I was given license to relish the grace of limitless perspective. Mine. His. Past. Present. Imagined. Lived. 

                                        

I sensed everything. I could feel the birds, and smell the trees, and hear the fruit falling to the ground. I could read the sky and taste the wind and tell exactly when it would pour. I walked barefoot on stones and grass, and read about Jesus' feet being washed with a sinner's tears and wiped with her hair.  I cried on my feet and felt comfort from the earth, in dirt and dust. I picked fallen mangoes from the giving tree that wouldn't stop its prolific display of fertility all day and night. Bang!  Bang! Falling mangoes landing spectacularly on steel roofs kept stirring me from meditation and sleep. As if God wouldn't let me forget his message of abundance.  

                                  

Everywhere I looked, I saw God in all things. In what was in front of me, big and small, in details I saw with my eyes - in thought fragments that crossed my mind's eye. I saw God in all the pain I've endured and all the triumphs I enjoyed. Things fell into place. Everything made sense. Out of the tumult came the calm. I de-cluttered my heart of garbage and ordered my emotions. I put everything I felt, good and bad, in their correct place where they could be in balance: I put my pain in the chamber of healing; my anger in the chamber of forgiveness; my disappointment in the chamber of hope; my doubt in the chamber of faith; my past in the chamber of wisdom; my future in the chamber of peace; my present in the chamber of love.  I expelled envy, vanity, greed, and regret - I just didn't want them in my heart anymore. Having freed up so much space, my heart was open to new possibilities. 

                                 

I am ready to seize each day and face my responsibilities wholeheartedly, indefatigably! This retreat has given me a most precious gift: "Bukal sa loob" (a spring of life-giving water will gush forth from within) promised by Jesus to the Samaritan woman at the well.  In my contemplation, I was that Samaritan woman, shamed and sinful - but saved by my encounter with Jesus! He had opened a spring within my heart and I am overflowing with love - with love He gives me - and with love I am eager to give. 

I went on silent retreat for 5 grace-filled days at the Cenacle retreat house and I leave nourished - mind, body, and soul.  I had my first taste of Ignatian spiritual exercises and I am in awe at how much closer I feel to Jesus. Never before have I felt this deep a connection to Him, never before have I immersed myself in such contemplation. 

In silence, how eloquently my heart sings! 

For 5 days I did not see my children in the flesh. But how much clearer I see now, their process of becoming who they are. I am fully aware what a great privilege it is to be their mother. And as for my husband - being away from him allowed me to grasp with gratitude the daily truth I take for granted: that he is my rock, my foundation and strength; he's always got my back, steadies me when I falter, and leads me when I get lost so that I could find my way.  And I love him more and more.

So energizing, so motivating, so inspiring and empowering is this retreat that I can't wait to get home to live and to love more now, more than ever before :-) 

Those interested in the Cenacle Retreat House may see their schedule here:

http://www.cenaclephilsing.org/welcome-to-the-cenacle/