Although appealing in a sense, arriving in an unknown territory creates discomfort and there is in each one of us the paradoxical desire to get back to what we know. During the silent meditation retreat that we began with Laurence Freeman and Eileen O'Shea the following day, we were reminded that the pilgrimage of contemplative prayer requires a constant letting go of the comfortable place that we have reached to plunge more deeply into the ever expanding divine mystery. How easily we cling to familiar images of the unnameable presence we call "God", how tempting it is to build an idol, without even being aware of it, and cast it in stone. Six times a day, as we sat still together to meditate, we heard this invitation to go deeper in our quest. Morning and evening as we did our walking meditation, being totally involved in the sacredness of the present moment, we continued our pilgrimage towards fullness of life.

Thirteen people from Brazil, Canada, Ireland, Italy, Singapore, UK and USA were gathering to talk about the transmission of the Christian Meditation tradition, to see how to best help committed meditators in the different countries share the gift they have received. Magda remembered vividly John Main saying that "meditation is caught, not taught". What we were to do as a group was to meditate first, to "catch" meditation one more time. So for six days, we meditated together, in silence, not even talking about the hills and villages we could see from our rooms or the beauty of the olive trees on a sunny day. Only after that deepening experience, only after having plunged into the fullness of silence for six days did we share what each one of us had done in our country over the last year to support group leaders and emerging teachers. At that time, someone repeated the comment made by Laurence a few years ago: "The age of the founders is over." Other meditators need to be involved in passing on the tradition received by John Main and then Laurence Freeman. While meditation cannot really be taught, the gift can be shared and more members of the World Community for Christian Meditation are being invited to listen to the Spirit when the time has come for them to take on that role.

This notion was illustrated vividly for me during my walks. Down one kilometre from the Monastery where we were staying there was a network of trails that lead through the forest to views of the hills from different perspectives and to Toffia and San Allessandro, two small villages that dated about the same century as Fara Sabina. The trail to "Area Sosta", which I finally understood after two days means "Rest Place" was marked with a red bar with one ball on each end, somewhat like a dumbbell. Most of the time the signs were relatively clear, reassuring me that I was still on the trail. Sometimes they were painted on rocks that had rolled down from the side of the path and were not very visible. Other times, moss had grown on them, or thick green grass prevented me from seeing them. Occasionally, at a crossroad a word or two painted on wood would clarify the options ahead. The third day, I went on the trail to Toffia and I had become comfortable enough with the signage that I picked up a post that had fallen down and made sure I would stay and be clear; I removed some of the moss that covered a couple of stones where the red marks then became much more visible, I put a couple of branches at the beginning of a side trail to indicate that it was to be avoided. Having enjoyed the walks, I was starting to feel a certain responsibility towards the others that would hike on those trails.

After having discovered the path of meditation, comes a time when we become aware of others who might walk on it. It will certainly take more than three or four days for this to happen and it may take very different shapes, but it is normal to want to share a gift that we find precious. When we talk about meditation to a friend who wants to know what it is about, when we present it to a new comer at the beginning of a meditation group, when we stand in front of a parish or a group of students and explain how to meditate and where this practice comes from, we are taking on a natural responsibility for the maintenance of the path, using spiritual rocks and branches to achieve this.

Fara Sabina was rebuilt in the 15th century on the site of an earlier medieval village. The bakery where the nuns got our bread every day was in operation a hundred years before that. This tasty bread with a thick bumpy crust talked to us of the goodness of life. As did the irregular roofs, the curved arches, the tiles of different colours and lengths, the fields where olive trees lined up in irregular patterns to fit the hillsides: not many straight lines in that part of Italy, an abundance of crooked walls, round windows, curving streets. Nothing is contrived and the beauty emerges from these ever changing views. Unpredictable and irrepressible life!

Somehow, spending several hours a day in the stillness of meditation was connecting us to that same profound source of life, in our centre. The goodness in the hills and the trees, the goodness in the old houses and churches, the goodness in the pasta, the bread and the wine lead us to this ever present goodness we dare call God, knowing that the word could not express fully the depth of the mystery were connecting to.

Started in Florence four years ago, the School for Teachers is an international initiative that has lead to the formation of presenters in more than 10 countries. Several groups spent a structured week-end to deepen the essential teaching and explore ways of presenting this simple and profound message to other spiritual seekers. There is newness here, there is life. The amount of laughter we experienced in Fara Sabina as we shared successes and challenges reflects well the vibrancy that comes from the practice of meditation. Laughter also is caught, not taught!

Michel Legault
November 29, 2001