Earlier this month, the lower Midwest communities gathered for the Fraternity Advent retreat in Bloomington, Indiana. For many of us, this meant driving three or more hours one way. When we meet like this as a region it is easy for there to be a tension between wanting to speak with all of our friends and the desire to pay attention to the content of those days. At this particular retreat, I arrived exceptionally distracted. Part of my distraction was my lingering frustration from a drive with our two small children who were on a sleep strike and my anticipation of an equally frustrating drive home, but part of it was the sadness of seeing all these faces and realizing there would never be enough time to truly stay together in this short afternoon.

After the lesson, Fr. Alex proposed silence. I immediately disregarded his proposal and went to peek in on my children, and on the way, I ran into a friend who lives in a different state. We began talking, and then all of a sudden, I experienced a discomfort churning up inside of me. I realized the discomfort was from this tension: wanting to do what I wanted with my time but also wanting to live this opportunity well. I saw in myself a yearning to follow what Fr. Alex had asked of all of us. My desire to follow what was proposed was not simply in order to do the "right" thing, but because I saw that what was asked actually corresponded more to what my true desire was for myself, for my day there at the retreat. It was exactly as he had challenged us in the lesson: "When you follow you breathe and when you don't follow you suffocate. If we're just building our own thing it won't take long until we can no longer breathe." And in that moment, "suffocating" meant my being severely distracted and having a difficult time paying attention to anything other than my idea of how to stay together with our friends. So, a bit awkwardly and abruptly, I told my friend I needed to make use of the silence and went to the chapel where silence without so much distraction was more possible.

In the silence that followed, I recognized that the only truly satisfying way to stay together, to love each other, is to follow. Because when I follow, I'm helped not to live in the realm of my ideas. When I'm freed from the grip of my limited perception of reality, I can stay more attentive to what is happening and better cultivate my desire to return to what is essential: to the origin of this grace that has given us to each other in the first place. We're really free to decide not only what we love, but how well we choose to love it. As Fr. Alex reminded us, "Our companionship is meant to challenge and accompany us in this freedom."

Hannah, Kentucky, USA