Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Evening After Retreat

From the Friday afternoon drive to late lunch on Sunday, the retreat weekend lived up to all I could have asked it to be. It was also New England in the midst of its best season. Again and again the colors of sky and water and rocky coast, viewed from the windows of my third-floor room or glimpsed between the golden leaves of trees along the walkways, stopped me. Reverie reigned.



Home later that evening, I paid homage to the mood in which the retreat had left me by watching 400 Blows for the second time in a week. My Netflix rental of the François Truffaut classic had moved me a few days earlier. This time I settled on the sofa and watched while listening to the commentary by Brian Stonehill included with the Criterion DVD. Out of the sunlit colors of the retreat and into the black and white magic of a 1959 Paris, I felt fresh wonder at the minute-and-a-half scene of the faces of children attending the Grand Guignol. Enjoy.

By the way, watch till the end. The little boy resting his head on the shoulder of a friend takes my breath away.

4 comments:

Bear Me Out said...

I rejoice with you in your nurturing retreat.

Oh, for a shoulder on to which to lay my head. . . .

speculator said...

So glad for your words- and I appreciate your understanding of the vitality of going on retreat. "Retreating" is surely not running away, and there is always something both confrontational and backing-away from the chaos, all at the same time.
How wonderful that you are able to listen for the Holy Spirit and write your response!

All the best, and keep in touch-

Donald said...

Among the best conversations this past week have been those that made space at some point for last weekend's retreat, its moods, its messages, its likely legacy. I look forward in this coming weekend of high church festivity for the chance to go aside and mull about the ways the Spirit builds up and re-orders.

Welcome, new and faithful readers.

speculator said...

Yes, that IS the pier opposite Standard Bakery, on Commercial Street.
It's one of my favorite "thinking places." I have a few "thinking roads," too.

Very glad for your comments,

~a