November in Amonines
Nâm Retreat of Silence, snowfall, time/no-time and Weekend of Silence
Nâm Retreat of Silence
In daily life people often feel pressed for time. Time is measured and valued not so much according to how things are done, but according to how much is done. The goals that are to be met are not limited to work, but extend into private life. It might feel as being pushed in a boat on a turbulent river. And sometimes you need to get out of the boat and stand in the mud, letting the water go past you.
To keep with this metaphor, the Nâm Retreat of Silence is a way to get out of this boat, connect to the essence behind the surface and have your habitual programmes of perception reflected in the water. That is how November started.
For some people it takes time to make the shift from their daily state to a state of silence which the Asharum invites. Especially when you are coming as staff and you have a certain task -read goal- it is more of a challenge to stay in the present where the silence resides and time plays no role. Saying this, it was beautiful to see how one of the staff members, our cook Luz, who arrived halfway the Nâm Retreat of Silence, quietly joined in, needing no-time at all to adjust.
Marjolein, who was intrigued by her way of cooking, asked her about it; she wrote the following:
Intuitive Cooking
In Amonines we see many different kinds of people, all with their own reasons and motivations. Sometimes there also happens to be a very good cook among them. Take Luz, she is a cook by profession. During the Nâm Retreat of Silence, she served the most delicious meals to the guests of the Asharum. Dinners that she often comes up with in the course of a day. You won't find recipes, scales or measuring cups in her kitchen. Intuitive cooking, she calls it. First take a look in the fridge, the vegetable basket and the vegetable garden and then just get to work. Cooking from the heart, it may also be called. It connected beautifully with the sometimes almost tangible silence of a special week.
A visit of winter
We live in autumn, in winter, in autumn
Child on mother's lap
Tolmiea menziesii is a small plant that has been given the name ‘Child on mother's lap’ in Dutch (‘Kindje op moeder’s schoot’). The evocative name inspired Marjolein to write about it:
Little ones in the garden
Child on Mother's lap, that's the name of the little plant. A touching name for a sweet and brave little plant. A small new leaf starts on top of an older one and it takes root. This happens when conditions cooperate a little with a fine autumn sun that still carries enough warmth and light and the plant is not disturbed. A loving approach does the rest. This is the way the plant grows, covering more and more ground every season.
A blessing in disguise
It felt like a huge triumph when we finally managed to have an appointment with the electrician for the fire safety control. After at least half a year of phone calls and fruitless appointments we almost concluded there was a cultural miscommunication. But when the fuses blew (literally), the cycle of events took a turn for the positive. The electrician came and the personal contact seemed to break an invisible barrier that we had been unable to breach over the phone. The blowing of the fuses was a blessing in disguise as we seized the moment when it presented itself to finalise an appointment at last.
Estonia
When we got a visitor all the way from Estonia who stayed for four nights, we started wondering about the relation of travel time and the relatively short time of her stay. She had a beautiful answer, showing us at the same time how with our thinking we also fell into the trap of valuing time in terms of quantity instead of quality. She shared with us that the experience of time is different in the Asharum and that what needs to happen happens regardless of the length of one’s stay.
Transformations in daily life
Sometimes changes are already on their way, but still in a dream state. Staying in the Asharum might then be just what we need, as one of our guests told me. With the delicious food waiting for her on the table, the cookies were not missed. When she enjoyed the meals in silence she realised how much chatter normally goes on while nothing is said. These are discoveries she will take with her, while other things that are of no use any longer will be thrown out.
The Weekend of Silence
Sometimes you have a group that hardly asks for guidance. The last weekend of November we had such a group. It was so clear that they were eager to enter the silence that I felt almost uncomfortable with my brief introduction in which I asked for their attention. They were already still before I could finish. Everybody had arrived at different times, not being able to dip their toes in the water to feel the temperature of what they were getting into and with whom, but as soon as they entered the silence, they formed a collective field where the support of the group was immediately palpable.