A travel writer finds inspiration in staying still
Pico Iyer makes time for retreats at a Benedictine hermitage in California. In 鈥淎flame: Learning From Silence,鈥� he writes about finding clarity.
The sun sets over the Pacific Ocean along the coast of Big Sur, California.
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff/File
Pico Iyer鈥檚 readers know him as an inviting paradox, a travel writer who savors standing still. Iyer lives in Japan, where he has a wife and family, and California, where he鈥檚 a frequent guest at New Camaldoli Hermitage, run by Benedictine monks. Iyer鈥檚 books chronicle journeys to many parts of the world, including Cuba, Iran, India, North Korea, and Iceland.
In a counterpoint to his busy career, Iyer has for several decades visited New Camaldoli in Big Sur. He鈥檚 written about the hermitage before, but 鈥淎flame鈥� delves more deeply into his favorite retreat. The book鈥檚 title draws from a 海角大神 proverb about spiritual transformation: 鈥淚f you so wish, you can become aflame.鈥�
It鈥檚 surprising imagery for monastic life, which can seem an exercise in cool contemplation. But as Iyer discovers, the monks aren鈥檛 blithely floating above earthly cares. In quiet hours, life鈥檚 unresolved issues can bubble to the surface. Here鈥檚 how one monk puts it: 鈥淪ome of the guys come here to run away. From something in their past. ... And what they find is that they come right up against that in the silence.鈥�
The life that Iyer brings to the hermitage has troubles, too. As 鈥淎flame鈥� unfolds, the author鈥檚 mother grows old, increasingly dependent on his care. His wife and family in Japan have their own struggles. 鈥淚sn鈥檛 it selfish,鈥� a friend asks Iyer, 鈥渢o leave your loved ones behind to go and sit still?鈥�
鈥淣ot if sitting still is the only way you can learn to be a little less selfish,鈥� he replies. 鈥淚t was only being alone,鈥� Iyer writes at another point, 鈥渢hat gave me the courage to get married.鈥�
Even so, Iyer鈥檚 choice involves difficult bargains. He describes a tender conversation with his wife in which they list each other鈥檚 virtues, which prompts him to also ask about his faults. 鈥淵our need to be alone,鈥� his wife answers.
His embrace of New Camaldoli brings pluses. When Iyer鈥檚 wife accompanies him on a visit to the hermitage, the monks greet her warmly. 鈥淔or thirty years I thought you were an only child,鈥� she tells Iyer. 鈥淣ow I see you have all these brothers!鈥�
Beyond its spiritual significance, the title of 鈥淎flame鈥� reflects another theme, the wildfires that occasionally threaten the hermitage. Iyer first stayed at the hermitage after a fire destroyed his family home, falling in love with its promise of renewal. 鈥淚t鈥檚 so wonderful what you do here,鈥� a visitor tells a monk. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 do anything!鈥� he answers. 鈥淲e make nothing happen.鈥�
For Iyer, the space to put ambition at arm鈥檚 length is a relief. 鈥淭he point of being here is not to get anything done; only to see what might be worth doing,鈥� he writes.
What Iyer sometimes finds worth doing at New Camaldoli, not surprisingly, is writing 鈥� creating, by his estimate, 鈥渓iterally thousands of pages of notes鈥� during his many retreats over more than three decades.
These notes shape a narrative in Iyer鈥檚 book that sometimes appears to range among years in no particular order, which can complicate our understanding of his growth at New Camaldoli. Like a family scrapbook, 鈥淎flame鈥� assembles vivid memories in which time runs together with no clear boundaries. Readers are immersed in the hermitage鈥檚 abiding gift, the chance to embrace days where the clock and the calendar seem to dissolve.
鈥淚t鈥檚 as if a lens cap has come off,鈥� Iyer writes, 鈥渁nd once the self is gone, the world can come flooding in, in all its wild immediacy.鈥� He acknowledges that his life might not be a model for everyone. 鈥淚鈥檓 lucky indeed to have the time and money to go on retreat, I know, a luxury that most might envy,鈥� Iyer concedes. Even so, he nudges his readers to seek out clarity and silence when and where they can. As he suggests, 鈥淪uch treasure[s] are available to us in many settings, not always monastic.鈥�
Iyer claims no particular religion, and though his story is set among Roman Catholic monks, his observations about the value of quiet reflection will appeal to readers regardless of their beliefs. But Iyer doesn鈥檛 distill the lessons of silence into a fashionable set of lifestyle tips. The inner life that those at New Camaldoli cultivate is touched by mysteries that can鈥檛 be fully resolved, which is part of its daunting joy.
鈥淭here鈥檚 no such thing as dead time,鈥� Iyer writes of his time at New Camaldoli, 鈥渨hen everything is alive with possibility.鈥�