A Retreat at the Ends of the Earth (+ bonus computer science party pics)

Gavin spent this week at the International Conference of Machine Learning in Sydney, Australia, so I took the opportunity to do something that I know he would not want to do: a three-day silent meditation retreat at a monastery on the island of Tautra, 90 minutes northeast of Trondheim.

[googlemaps https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m18!1m12!1m3!1d28409.310645271857!2d10.5770669256931!3d63.57485298497467!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!3m3!1m2!1s0x466d480769250f49%3A0x8da9b506e3159ea9!2sTautra!5e0!3m2!1sen!2sno!4v1502219624276&w=600&h=450]

Tautra has been a haven for monastic life for the past millennium, but the monastery in its current form has been here for about 10 years. Tautra Mariakloster is home to eleven nuns who make soap, grow raspberries, and hold seven (!!!) prayer services per day. They also run a guesthouse for those interested in retreat.

New monastery.

Old monastery.

I love retreats! They give me the opportunity to engage in two of my favorite activities: 1) quiet, contemplative reflection, and 2) talking about my feelings. (Since this one was silent, it was about the former.) If you are like Gavin, you may be asking: what does one do on a silent retreat? Does one get bored? Does one want to talk? Is one allowed to pester one’s wife if she wants to take this seriously?

The days are structured by the nun’s schedule, but you can come and go as you want. I had planned to do some writing but was so taken by the beauty of the place that I spent most of the time on walks with my camera. Tautra might be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

I never made it up for vigils.

The drive from Trondheim meanders along the Trondheimsfjord, which is less dramatic than its southern counterparts (e.g., Hardangerfjord), but has a different kind of beauty, as if you know you are approaching the ends of the earth. The island is windswept and highly sensory. The crops are nearing maturity, so the sun gleams off the hay fields in a way that adds rich texture to the visual landscape. The raspberries — just coming to full ripeness — are succulently sweet. The Klostergården homebrew is heavenly.

The island is an important migratory point for scores of bird species, and large portions of the island are protected. In fact, to reach the fugletårget — bird-watching tower — I had to walk a narrow path between two electric fences, which served their purpose of preventing me from communing with the birds or this herd of cows swimming in the fjord.

The prayer services also provided a unique sensory experience. The nuns sing Gregorian chants, which are punctuated by the many bird songs and the wind whipping off the fjord. I did not attend anywhere near seven services a day, and thankfully all of them were fairly short. However, it provided the kind of contemplative structure that I wanted for my retreat.

Klosterkirken.

I didn’t really end up being silent (in fact, I encountered a lot of Americans here — the first either of us have met in Norway actually), but the beauty of the place brought about the serene experience I was hoping to have. I may try to come here quarterly for a retreat, and who knows, maybe by the end of our time here I will have turned Gavin into a chanting-meditating-retreat lover just like me. Unlikely 🙂

Meanwhile in Australia: The Conference has decided that what these computer scientists need is a raucous blacklight dance party. Hope you’re living large husband! Can’t wait to see you soon!