The retreat cycle

"When my wife and I were external persons, we liked to go on retreats, because they allowed us to get away for a weekend. We left the kids at home and somebody else cooked for us, so it was different than our ordinary routine. It was quiet. I don't mean the absence of any noise, but the absence of routine. The retreats were tranquil places.

"As we would leave those retreats to head back home, though, the quietness would slowly ebb away. By the time I drove up to the house, I was already reverting to my pre-retreat self. I was going to walk in there and straighten out the kids and reestablish my authority and get my space. I was right back where I was before, because quietness to me was a completely external thing.

"We can manufacture quiet for a little while. We may be able to create an external setting where we can occasionally have quiet. But I'm talking about an internal quiet that filters throughout our lives."— The Rest of the Gospel: When the partial Gospel has worn you out, page 218

<idle musing>
Rest and abide. That's the only way to have inner peace and quiet. The world can go crazy, but you are established on the "rock that doesn't roll" (as Larry Norman put it in one of his songs).
</idle musing>