Give It Up or Embrace It?

Mention Lent and most people think deprivation. Fasting. Penitence. I get all that. But the fact is, part of my unique version of humanness is that I don't do well with deprivation or hair shirts. So Lent works better for me if I can reframe it as something I can welcome, embrace, and still go into the wilderness in some way.

For many years now, thanks to a beautiful young woman who is now an Episcopal priest, I have been "giving up" car radio for Lent (among other habits and practices that could use a course correction). But this year, it dawned on me that I could do so much more than give up car radio, which really amounts to whatever happens to be airing on Vermont Public Radio when I am driving.

I could embrace silence in the car. Easy for me to say. No kids in the back seat clamoring for attention. A pretty stale set of playlists on my iPod. Not a lot of other drivers in bad traffic to tempt me to yell. What I did not figure on was my own voice. Talking to myself.  Not exactly embracing silence.

Living in a small town means I usually have very short trips behind the wheel (NEXT Lent I might consider embracing walking more). But fairly frequently I also have hour-long drives on I-89, the postcard-beautiful highway where I regularly thank my lucky stars that I live in Vermont (as in "Oh my God, I am so lucky to live in Vermont!" said out loud with a little squeal and a big sigh). But I-89 is where the embrace-the-silence challenge comes in.

It's hard to shut up. Focus on my breath. Love those views and feel grateful. Listen. Listen. Observe without too much judgment where my mind goes. Bring it back to the breath. It's my wilderness. Imagine an overactive extrovert in the desert. That's me in my quiet car during Lent this year.

Don't get me wrong. There is a great freedom in the silent car. There is a vastness to explore there, lots of ideas and other chatter to note and walk away from.Most of the time, once I break the habit of turning on the radio immediately after turning the key in the ignition, I actually feel relieved. Alone at last, I think. Maybe alone with God. But definitely in a space I seldom inhabit otherwise. I recommend it.


And oh--lest you be be concerned I am driving around in a meditative fog and not paying attention, I can only assure you I think it is no worse than usual.