More in loud world hear call of silence

By Meredith Goldstein, Globe Staff, 10/17/2003

On a sprawling property in West Newbury, Prataap Patrose is preparing to spend several nights sleeping in a small cell, in a silent retreat.

He arrives at the Society of St. John the Evangelist monastery and retreat center with his brain on overload, saturated with data from cellphone calls and hundreds of daily e-mails. He is exhausted from his job as the deputy director of urban design at the Boston Redevelopment Authority, as well as his part-time job as a personal coach and the duties of caring for two aging parents.

Without these few days of peace, there is no silence. Without the silence, he cannot function.

"I'm at a place right now where I need that type of space more often," he says, of the increasing frequency of his trips to the Episcopal retreat center. "You need the space to be silent and to be able to reflect."

Patrose is part of a growing group of workaday professionals who seek respite from the secular world at convents and monasteries, among those who maintain vows of silence and meditation. It is an option that has become more popular at a time when taking a vacation may not provide a break from cellphones, pagers, and e-mail. Only in a monastery can some people truly be left alone.

"It's a mode of being that more people need," says Patrose, who takes a retreat several times a year. "This silence, it's seen as a luxury, but it's actually a necessity."

Monasteries around Massachusetts say they have seen an increase in the number of professionals who choose retreats. The Society of St. Margaret convent on Fort Hill in Roxbury devotes one person full time to booking weekend and weeklong retreats. Most of the rooms at St. John the Evangelist are usually booked at its Cambridge and West Newbury locations. And the Trappist monks in Spencer say they have also noticed a trend of doctors, lawyers, and other professionals flocking to their guesthouse for solace.

All congregations say the guests seek a similar peace and escape from a fast-paced way of life.

"I think it's the greatest gift we offer our guests," said Brother Geoffrey Tristram of St. John's. "They're bombarded by noise, the news, the media. They're completely saturated with external stimuli. You can lose touch with your own inner voice."

Tristram said some professionals visit to achieve a connection with God. Others detach the experience from religion and simply look to reconnect with themselves.

"People are looking for some [place], an oasis," he said. "They can drink in the silence and the peace and discover who they are again."

The retreat experience varies with each congregation. At St. John's, quiet is the main focus for guests. The monks keep their vow of silence only during the nighttime and prayer hours, managing the church business during the rest of the day, but visitors are completely disconnected.

Most of the experienced retreat participants at St. John's do not feel the need to read. In West Newbury, for example, they walk the country grounds, where the Artichoke River pours into the Merrimack, and meditate.

Cameron Mcdonald, a visiting sociology professor at Harvard University who has retreated to St. John's in West Newbury and Cambridge for the past several years, said that for newcomers letting go of communication is the first step and the hardest part of achieving inner peace.

"It made me realize how culturally trained we are to interact," she said. "You can tell who is new. They're looking at you, communicating, waiting for cues."

The sisters at St. Margaret's practice a similar vow and have the same expectations for their guests. The convent has a retreat center in Duxbury, where silence is observed just as it is at the order's Roxbury location.

"People say, how can you have silence in Boston?" said Sister Carolyn Darr, who lives at the Roxbury convent, which overlooks the city. "It is truly silent here. People come and they leave refreshed."

At St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, retreaters are less bound by silence. In a setting that covers more than 100 acres, they meditate and reflect, but participants also have the opportunity to discuss revelations they discover during their stay. Conversation is allowed during the cleanup after meals, and it is not inappropriate to approach another guests.

Julie Swain, a San Diego-based cardiologist, said she visits the monastery when she can and finds peace even in day trips. Swain said that she is Catholic but not religious and that she began visiting the Spencer abbey after she operated on one of the monks.

In her regular life, Swain said, "Anybody can get me at any time," not only for her responsibilities as a cardiologist but also as a consultant to the US Food and Drug Administration. "The retreat is something that's not about religion at all. You don't have to attend the talks. Everybody leaves you alone. And even when there's talking, there's no nuisance talking, like, `Did the Dodgers win today?' There's none of that."

The retreat trend has become a dependable source of income for the orders. The Trappist monks require guests to book their stay six months in advance. Often, the same group will take a retreat at the same time each year. One week of the month is devoted to retreats for women.

The retreats are not the foundation of support for the monasteries. the Trappists still depend on their homemade jellies for income. But the hundreds of annual guests are asked to contribute what they can for their stay, and most pay about $75 per night.

The rising popularity of such retreats has created a paradox for the monks and nuns. The contact with the outsiders on retreat has made their own silence more difficult to maintain. Brothers at St. John's now have laptops in their monastery cells and use e-mail to book retreats. So as the brothers and sisters bring peace to guests, technology and communication are intruding.

But Tristram said that pursuing silence is as worthwhile for monks as it is for professionals.

"It teaches us to listen to each other," he said, of the retreats. "In society, people don't listen to each other anymore."