Pico Ayer

I took a long walk at daybreak along the monastery road, past benches here and there looking out to sea, and a smile from a stranger went through me as no sentence ever could. Often I just sat in a chair and did what is usually hardest for me, nothing at all. The monks who opened their doors, even to non-Christians like myself, made no demands on any visitor.

They were ready to offer counsel if needed, but otherwise they were just working around the clock to ensure that all of us felt at home. When I stepped into the monastery bookstore on my second day, an elderly brother asked how I was doing. I love it, I said. He looked relieved. Clearly, silence wasn't always a blessing.

They were ready to offer counsel if needed, but otherwise they were just working around the clock to ensure that all of us felt at home. When I stepped into the monastery bookstore on my second day, an elderly brother asked how I was doing. I love it, I said. He looked relieved. Clearly, silence wasn't always a blessing.

They were ready to offer counsel if needed, but otherwise they were just working around the clock to ensure that all of us felt at home. When I stepped into the monastery bookstore on my second day, an elderly brother asked how I was doing. I love it, I said. He looked relieved. Clearly, silence wasn't always a blessing.

Of course, it was liberation to be away from every distraction, but mostly I felt liberated from little Pico and all his chatter. I was freed of my social self and back in a silent self where I had no need of words or ideas. A lens cap had come off and now I could be filled by the world in all its wild immediacy. In the days that followed, I simply read books or wrote letters to friends.

Of course, it was liberation to be away from every distraction, but mostly I felt liberated from little Pico and all his chatter. I was freed of my social self and back in a silent self where I had no need of words or ideas. A lens cap had come off and now I could be filled by the world in all its wild immediacy. In the days that followed, I simply read books or wrote letters to friends.

Of course, it was liberation to be away from every distraction, but mostly I felt liberated from little Pico and all his chatter. I was freed of my social self and back in a silent self where I had no need of words or ideas. A lens cap had come off and now I could be filled by the world in all its wild immediacy. In the days that followed, I simply read books or wrote letters to friends.

I took the same walk again and again. Every morning when I awoke, I had no designs upon the day. I let the moment decide whether I'd pick up a postcard or just look out to sea. Over the next few months and years, I started going back. For two weeks, for three weeks, sometimes when the 15 retreat rooms were full, staying with the monks in their enclosure.

I took the same walk again and again. Every morning when I awoke, I had no designs upon the day. I let the moment decide whether I'd pick up a postcard or just look out to sea. Over the next few months and years, I started going back. For two weeks, for three weeks, sometimes when the 15 retreat rooms were full, staying with the monks in their enclosure.

I took the same walk again and again. Every morning when I awoke, I had no designs upon the day. I let the moment decide whether I'd pick up a postcard or just look out to sea. Over the next few months and years, I started going back. For two weeks, for three weeks, sometimes when the 15 retreat rooms were full, staying with the monks in their enclosure.

Occasionally, I went there when I was jet-lagged, and even the silence couldn't help me then. Sometimes I arrived just as the radiance of the Big Sur coastline was shattered by torrential storms. All night I sat in my little trailer on the hill, unable to see another light or sign of human habitation. The wilderness felt merciless and terrifying.

Occasionally, I went there when I was jet-lagged, and even the silence couldn't help me then. Sometimes I arrived just as the radiance of the Big Sur coastline was shattered by torrential storms. All night I sat in my little trailer on the hill, unable to see another light or sign of human habitation. The wilderness felt merciless and terrifying.

Occasionally, I went there when I was jet-lagged, and even the silence couldn't help me then. Sometimes I arrived just as the radiance of the Big Sur coastline was shattered by torrential storms. All night I sat in my little trailer on the hill, unable to see another light or sign of human habitation. The wilderness felt merciless and terrifying.

But even when doubts or shadows arose, I realized I'd much rather confront them in this quiet sanctuary than when I was caught up in rush hour traffic or the cacophony of cable news.

But even when doubts or shadows arose, I realized I'd much rather confront them in this quiet sanctuary than when I was caught up in rush hour traffic or the cacophony of cable news.

But even when doubts or shadows arose, I realized I'd much rather confront them in this quiet sanctuary than when I was caught up in rush hour traffic or the cacophony of cable news.

When my father was suddenly raced into the hospital, the only thing I could think to do was drive four hours one morning just to sit on a bench along the monastery road for two hours and then drive the four hours back. Isn't it selfish to leave your loved ones behind so you can go and restore yourself, a kind friend asked me.

When my father was suddenly raced into the hospital, the only thing I could think to do was drive four hours one morning just to sit on a bench along the monastery road for two hours and then drive the four hours back. Isn't it selfish to leave your loved ones behind so you can go and restore yourself, a kind friend asked me.

When my father was suddenly raced into the hospital, the only thing I could think to do was drive four hours one morning just to sit on a bench along the monastery road for two hours and then drive the four hours back. Isn't it selfish to leave your loved ones behind so you can go and restore yourself, a kind friend asked me.

Not if it's the only way I can learn to be a little less selfish, was my reply. when my daughter at 13 was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, I knew that sitting in silence above the blue-green waters for three days was the best way I could find the clarity and calm I would need as soon as I stepped back into her hospital ward.