Silence and Belief

A small young nun, pious and kind looking, let us into the cloister. The air was filled with the song of prayer from a door to our left. As we moved into the cloister the singing stopped and the air reverberated with the trickle of the fountain and the crunch of gravel beneath our feet. We each took up post at different ends of the cloister, nestled ourselves into the columned niches and began to write. Sitting in the silence, the leaves rustling through the shrubs and scattering the water droplets from the fountain, I was amazed at my own sense of inner peace and comfort.

In the hubbub of church on a Sunday (people watching, music, rustling of clothing and chairs) the spiritual experience can be lost. Many churches today focus their services on celebration and leave their congregants on their own to find an outside, quiet connection with spirit. Silence is a spiritual experience for me. While sitting quietly alone, with no distractions one is able to take a step back from the business of everyday life. In the constant day in and day out chatter and fast-paced life style reflection can be put to the side to handle more pressing matters. Silence gives one the opportunity to breathe deeply, slow down and reflect.

Silence can also be a terrifying experience. Only when I am silent, when I let my body relax and breathe deeply, do I become aware of my honest feelings. So often business can act as a mask or Band-Aid to cover one’s true emotions. While I sat in the Santi Quattro Coronati cloister I was shocked to realize that I have not taken a moment of silence this trip. I have not stopped to reflect upon my experience here or to breathe deeply and be calm. So much of this trip has been an overwhelming jumble of thoughts and feelings, my emotions on a never-ending roller coaster of awe and amazement.
At this point in my reflection the buzzer pierced the silence. I sat waiting as the nun let a three older women and a man into the cloister. The women’s shoes clicked on the pavement: two of the women speaking loudly until shushed by the nun, the man clicking photos with his wife. I was shocked and affronted at the abrupt intrusion upon my silence. I watched and as they began to walk through the cloister they slowly fell silent, the soothing nature of the place washing over them. Then we all quietly experienced the space, all enjoying the peace within the place. I closed my eyes letting the sounds soothe me and sat silently. The noon bell began to chime, vibrating through the place, shaking up the cloister. We all packed up, everyone migrating towards to door and postcards. The sound of water, the echo of the bell and the whistle of the wind escorting us through the door.

Walking out from the grey and dismal church into the blinding sunshine I was shocked at how wonderful I felt. I felt free, happy and at ease. I felt like smiling and dancing down the street. Silence is a spiritual and healing experience. We walked down the winding hill, speaking very little, all still stunned with the cloister and our experiences in it. As I walked I kicked a small stone and it bounced joyously in front of me. As I watched it bounce I was reminded of the first mediation training I co-facilitated. We were all given rocks with the word breathe written on them because during my first mediation I scrawled “breathe” all over my page because I was so terrified. I spent the rest of the day thinking about my rock and reminding myself to breathe and take the time to reflect.

As a group we visited the S. Carlo alla Quattro Fontane, a church designed by Borromini. The church is a wash of white, with little decoration. The place soothes you when you enter it, invites you to sit quietly and breathe deeply. Attached to this church is a small cloister that mimics the plainness of S. Carlo alla Quattro Fontane. We walked from the church into the cloister and the calm feelings stayed with us. There was no business within the cloister, no noise at all, except for the jarring clop of shoes. We only spent a few minutes enjoying the quiet cloister and left marching out onto a busy street.

The experience at S. Carlo alla Quattro Fontane was unique because I am used to the overwhelming, ornate churches that flood the streets of Rome. I have never entered into a church and seen white or felt as though I was meant to sit quietly and relax. The churches here so often seem to invite awe and not spirituality. The cloister was a continuation of this experience of peace and serenity. I was amazed that I could experience that in both spaces of the church.

The cloister experience in Santi Quattro Coronati was a more profound experience for me because I was able to sit quietly, alone and reflect upon the space. In the cloister attached to S. Carlo alla Quattro Fontane my time was rushed and I was still reeling from my experience within the church. The cloister in Santi Quattro Coronati is an inviting place with places to sit and greenery. The cloister in S. Carlo alla Quattro Fontane is colder. The cloister acts as a continuation of the church, as a place to stand and admire, but not to get lost in for hours.

I do not consider myself religious, but I consider myself spiritual. I feel there is interconnectedness, an ebb, a pulse that links us all. For me I am most aware of this feeling when I sit in silence. My belief is somehow confirmed, it is inexplicable, but my connection with spirit and with my own spirituality is strengthened through silence. Silence reminds me of vastness of the Universe and forces me to remember that I am here to enjoy life and live it to the fullest, not to be weighed down by petty matters. I am reminded to let go, to release and to enjoy life. Silence helps me to redirect and find a new path when I am lost. In the Santi Quattro Coronati cloister I was reminded again that all I need to do is breathe and relax - to not get caught up in the business of life.