There was a time in my life when I wanted to be a nun. A lot of people find this odd.
Having an aunt who was a nun and an uncle who was a monk might have have something to do with that idea. As well as the fact that my family often visited a convent when we traveled into southern Mexico.
But I think the greatest influence came from the Trappists.
My uncle, the monk, spent somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty years in a Trappist monastery in southern Mexico (the convent we visited was in the town near the monastery).
Outside a small town, up in the hills, I spent many a summer there. I was seven the first time I went there and even though we never spent more than two weeks there every visit, I always looked forward to them.
If you’re someone who would hate every second of being away from a big city, then you probably think little of these memories.
It is very hard for me to put into words how much I loved the silent contemplation. It is an experience that should be lived rather than explained.
It’s funny…..most people – specially when I was still a little kid – after hearing that I had spent part of my summer praying and singing in a monastery, would think I was off my rocker (which I am, btw, but still).
To this day, aside from Chopin’s music, which always make me think of my Mom, there’s few melodies that will stir my memories as that of monastic chant. I have actually caught myself humming “Salve Regina” often, specially when I’m stressed out.
In the long run, the calling for me to be a nun wasn’t strong enough for me to walk that path for life. I’m happy with the path I took and still walk. God keeps giving me signs to follow – even if sometimes I am hard of hearing -.
Still, withdrawing into myself for silent contemplation will probably always be my preferred method to pray.
Wherever you are, my four readers, have a good night.
God bless ^_^