Lessons from Iona
On silence, solitude and following the ebb and the flow
Somewhere along the way in the midst of preparing for my week-long silent retreat on Iona, Scotland, I was reading about Brigid, goddess and matron saint of the Celtic lands. A phrase about her upbringing has stuck with me, although I can’t remember the exact words. It was something like:
Brigid learned silence from the rocks.
Perhaps that idea resonated with me because I struggle to find silence in my world and because I have an affinity for rocks of all sizes, especially giant boulders. I love to scamper up rock formations and collect colorful pebbles from my travels. I see boulders as steadfast witnesses and wonder how much they have seen. But I’ve never considered that rocks can teach us silence.
I want to share with you some of the things I learned from Iona, and a few of the watercolor paintings I was inspired to create.
Rocks teach about silence and steadfastness.
Waves crashing against those silent rocks teach about the ebb and flow of life.
Solitude teaches the value of stepping away from the crazy and the busy so you can hear your soul speak.
The Silence of Rocks
There are lots of rocks on Iona. The island itself is an extremely old rock, millions of years older than Mull, the island just one mile across the Sound of Iona, and indeed is older than most of Europe! The island was considered a sacred place long before the coming of Christianity. And today, visitors to Iona seek connection with the sacred in numbers almost 1000 times more than the number of actual residents on the island.
In the 500’s, St. Columba left Ireland and landed on Iona at what is now called St. Columba’s Bay or Port a’ Churaich, located at the southern end. The beach there is filled with colorful rocks, big enough to climb on and small enough to fit in your pocket.
Rocks and Sheep on Iona
But how would one learn silence from rocks? How can rocks be our teachers? All they do is sit there in eternal silence. That much is obvious. But do they have a deeper lesson to share? Here are three things rocks can teach us if we slow down and listen:
Be still: Rocks sit and observe without reacting. They waste no energy being offended.
Let things go: Rocks let the wind and water flow over them without complaint or expecting anything to be different.
Be grounded: A small pebble held in hand can help reclaim one’s calm and grounding in the stabilizing energy of the earth.
While our culture hawks instant miracle cures, rocks teach the slow, steady pace of transformation.
The Ebb and Flow of Waves
The waves are relentless on Iona. The west coast is buffeted by wild Atlantic waves while the east coast is washed with smaller waves of the Sound.
White Strand Beach
A long time ago, I wrote a poem about waves, their constancy reminding me of God’s invitation to each of us repeated again and again:
Ocean waves call to me,
“come watch me…”
like you do.
You call me to come spend time with you,
to come away from the busyness of my life,
to enjoy a stunning sunset or majestic ocean waves,
to be with you.
Ocean waves are relentless…
just like the outpouring of your love for me,
even when I’m not watching.
You offer your love again and again
always and forever,
just waiting for me to sit still and notice,
And love you back.
Our days are filled with expectations that life will unfold exactly as we planned. But life is not a straight line. Humans are not machines designed to do the same thing day after day. Life ebbs and flows. There are seasons with beginnings and endings. Happiness and grief. It all belongs.
The ebb and flow of waves reminds us that we are not meant to follow a four lane highway getting to our destination with all due haste. Our paths will meander. We will wander and hopefully, enjoy the journey. Our energy and devotion to the path will ebb and flow. We will get lost and return to our true path to transformation.
I love this line from Thomas Merton’s Prayer of Abandonment, where he demonstrates his trust in helpful nudges from the Divine:
“I hope I will never do anything
apart from that desire [to please God].
And I know if I do this you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.”
You can find the whole prayer here. Reading about how religious heavy hitters struggle to stay on their paths always gives me permission to allow my struggles without sinking into despair. Their mistakes offer me grace for my own mistakes.
The Sanctity of Solitude
Finding solitude is not easy when you live with other people. Even on this silent retreat on a sparsely populated island, I wasn’t alone - there were 18 of us here for the retreat. We did maintain silence during meals and mediation but were given an opportunity for Q&A following the morning teachings. I was able to maintain digital silence for most of the time. In attending this retreat, I chose to separate myself from external stimulation in order to create space for inner focus. It really is amazing how much deeper you can sink into teachings when you don’t immediately distract yourself by checking your phone or gabbing with people over lunch.
Fun fact: A 6th century Irish woman would have received the same amount of information from the outside world during her entire life as we receive in one day! Clearly, we are being overwhelmed with the amount of data coming into our psyches. We were not made for this!
Solitude is hard to find and even harder to maintain. Hello FOMO! But finding the time and fighting to protect it is required to create that space to hear your soul speak. There is sanctity in solitude. Sanctity is holy and inviolate, a word defined as “a sacred or unbreachable quality that demands protection.”
Solitude is sacred and needs to be protected in order for you to thrive.
When you feel the longing to come home to yourself, to reunite with the One, may you give yourself permission to carve out a space and time for silence and solitude.
Finding Your Own Private Iona - A State Of Mind
I’ll be honest with you. Just getting to Iona comes with a whole pile of logistical challenges. Fly to Scotland, train to Oban, ferry to Craignure on the Isle of Mull, bus across Mull, and then one more ferry to Iona. I’m glad I went and I am not sure I need to go again. I have not been seduced by the magical draw of Iona, at least I don’t think I have been!
And yet, I long for the feeling of connection to, and alignment with the Divine that I felt there. The question I came home with is how can I recreate the energy of the retreat experience now that I am back in the noisy, bright, asphalt jungle of urban dwelling? Here’s a few suggestions:
Create the intention.
Set aside time and space. Maybe add a few rocks to your home altar.
Allow for the ebb and flow that life brings.
Give yourself the grace to be perfectly imperfect.
Remember that each of us carries the sanctity of Iona within.
We are sacred without more.
We are holy already.
The invitation is to be more fully, more truly you. Notice any thought, emotion, feeling that does not help you be more you, and let it go. Be intentional about creating space for your true self to grow.
If you want help on your spiritual journey, you are most welcome to schedule a time to talk with me here.
You can learn more about what spiritual direction looks like here.