mountains

Stop. Breathe. Breathe again.

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Stop. Breathe. Breathe again. In that time, did you miss anything? A multimillion-dollar deal? A major life event? So what is the rush? What is the constant need to be doing something? It is going to be ok, even if you stop to breathe for a few minutes.

Of course, if you want to take that to a really healing level, you should take a few days off for a silence retreat, a technology detox, a news cleanse, a silent retreat, call it what you will. For the last five or so years, I have had the privilege of taking a few days off and heading North, over the Guadarrama mountains to the Monasterio de El Paular.

Although the Benedictine monks ask you to pray with them at least three of their five prayers, I always enjoy going to all five, including the 6:30am Maitines. There is a great beauty in reciting the Psalms and praying together in a slow, contemplative rhythm.

When you are not praying you are free to go hiking in the mountains. This year I went up to the Reventón for the first time to check out El carro del diablo, a huge rock with a legend about the cathedral of Segovia and, you guessed it, the devil. I also went up to the Puente de la Angostura bridge which I had not visited in years.

A particularly healing aspect is when the monks ask you to work with them. This time we had to sweep the farmhouse porch for the upcoming fiesta of St. John’s dinner. Brother Enrique and I spent the morning cleaning and fixing up area for the party.

The rest of the time you are meditating, reading, writing, enjoying the Vicente Carducho paintings in the cloister, praying. It is an amazing experience. You should try it. Here is the link for the monastery or find one near you!

https://www.monasteriodeelpaular.com/

You are welcome.

Lunch at the monastery

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During my last week of break, I was warmly invited to lunch at El Paular monastery by the Father Prior. What a treat!

Summer Thursdays the monks organize a paella lunch at the orchard and invite friends of the monastery. So, my friend Jaime and I drove over the Guadarrama mountains to the Lozoya Valley where the Monastery sits on an idyllic location, cradled by streams. We stopped for a coffee at the village of Rascafria before heading over to the old monastery.

We had a chance to walk around and even visit the gift shop. Then we went to one of the chapels for Sext prayers. After my few retreats and visits, I remembered knew how the Diurnal prayer book worked, something that always baffled me before. Then we headed over to the massive -now sadly abandoned- orchard. The barn has a massive porch that houses the long table where we all sit.

After the bell is rung three times, and the table is blessed, lunch includes some chips while lunch is brought out, a salad, the famous paella, melon and watermelon, sweets, coffee and after lunch liqueurs, including their own home made digestif. We sat next to John, one of the retreatants who happens to be the manager for Spain of the World Community for Christian Meditation, what a character, obviously we had a deep conversation.

After a walk around the orchard and the monastery, we sadly headed back over the mountains to Madrid, glowing with the inner peace that the monks imbue.

My Madrid

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Defensor del pueblo

Defensor del pueblo

La unión y el fenix

La unión y el fenix

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Angel caido

Angel caido

Café en el retiro

Café en el retiro

Castellana

Castellana

20140101_194322 20140101_202347 OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWith all the reading I have to do I only took ten days to visit my family in Madrid this Winter Break. I was happily busy with my parents, sisters, nieces and nephew, but a couple of times I managed to sneak out and walk around my Madrid, absorbing every sight, smell, sound and feeling. I love this city. While every city is unique in its personality and character, Madrid seems even more unique. This might be due to the fact that for centuries Madrid, although the capital of Spain since around 1561 was extremely isolated. It is not only the highest capital in Europe (667 m, 2,188 ft. above sea level), it is also terrifically well protected, surrounded as it is by mountains. It is also in the middle of nowhere. No harbor, no navigable river, sitting in the middle of a massive plateau. Unless you needed to visit the king, you really had no reason to go to Madrid. The name Castille does not come in vain. Of course it has Arab influences, and every type of cultural imprint since the Middle Ages, most notably the French influence of the Bourbon dynasty starting in 1713. So Madrid is a village in La Mancha, never mind the more or less 6 million inhabitants. But it is my home town.

But, what is a city but a collection of people at any given moment? Madrid is where you can find Medieval feudal noblemen (and their wannabes) – “Hello? We are in the 21st Century!” You want to shout as you shake them by their tweed lapels, to tattooed hipsters brewing their own beer and roasting their own coffee. You can find ladies dressed in couture next to punks who think we are still in the 80s. From Ferraris to ancient Seat 600s. From Arab inspired chickpea “cocido” stew to frozen yogurt, from blistering heat to snow and ice, Babies and old relics walking side by side, in the summer months this happens into well entered the night. It is these contrasts that make me love Madrid. In winter you can still find old ladies selling roasted chestnuts next to glossy shop windows, or a Chinese owned convenience store selling “bocadillos de chorizo” late, late at night.

Although most morning were devoted to walks with my dad, one morning I took my niece and nephew to the Retiro park where María roller skated while Jimmy skateboarded. It was chilly and we stopped for Cola-Cao – the Spanish brand of hot cocoa – and coffee in one of the bars around the park, it was a blast!

And the neighborhoods. I chat with my coffee shop owner (Felix) with my newspaper kiosk owner (Yague), with my cigar expert (José), with concierges, with the lottery sales lady, with shopkeepers I have known since I was a boy, with neighbors, with the bank employees, even the local cops.

A heartbreaking aspect of these visits is that I do not have enough time to visit everyone I would like to see. It is a delicate knit of family time, friend time, and some me time. I was lucky to visit with some friends and family, to walk around a bit and to catch a couple of interesting art exhibits near my parents’ home.

Although my visit to Madrid was short this time, I still had time to refresh and renew my love for this city I love so much.