Stillness Amidst the Chaos

So I’m still catching up on my travel log. I’m currently up to Canterbury, we’re getting closer, y’all. Slowly albeit but slow and steady wins the race, right? Or at least that’s what they tell me. Anyways... I’ve decided to post my front-of-the-book article that I wrote for my Travel Writing class. This is supposed to be a short article which gives someone who is unfamiliar with your assigned place, a sense of whatever city, building or event you are describing. I wrote on Canterbury Cathedral and so here it is. I’d love to hear your thoughts about what you think! All feedback, criticism and comments are welcome.

The nave

Every good English major knows what a paradox is. It is when you have two things that do not go together, in this case, rest and traveling. I find this to be true for me because I have imbibed my dad’s method of traveling and sightseeing which is to see as much as possible and to get the most out of an experience. This means constantly being on the move at an exhibit, museum or building and hungrily trying to read every plaque and sign available. These practices have been heightened during my time in England since it is the opportunity of a lifetime and I sincerely want to do, see and experience everything that is possible. Unfortunately, this does not include much time for quiet and reflection.

Unexpectedly, I find a place of quiet and stillness in Canterbury Cathedral, the spot to which thousands of pilgrims over the years visit in homage. I descend into the oldest part of the cathedral, the crypt. After being told that photography is not allowed and deciding not to listen to my audio guide, I am free of distractions. The coolness makes me shiver and the darkness causes my pupils to dilate as they take in my surroundings. My eye is immediately drawn to the center where a circle of chairs is placed along with candles to light for prayers in the Catholic tradition. A bookmark explains to this Protestant-raised girl the significance of the candles: “Lighting a candle is a prayer: when we have gone it stays alight, kindling in the hearts and minds of others the prayers we have already offered for the sick, the suffering, for those who have died, for the peace for the world, for ourselves and prayers of thankfulness too.” The sign in the circle invites us to pray for peace. One of my fellow classmates has already entered into this space and I decide to join her. In the midst of a tour, of a busy day, I stop and intentionally pray. I lay down my backpack and unburden my heart to the Lord. The cathedral offers me a moment of stillness and rest that my soul desperately needs. My fellow classmates who are emboldened perhaps by our presence before them join me. We pause and take a moment to think of someone other than ourselves. We physically and spiritually rest if but for a few minutes in this sacred space. The cathedral is not simply a building to be stared at and to be explained by a voice in my ear but it is a space of worship. It is a church at its heart not just a tourist attraction.

Thomas Becket, a martyr and a saint of the cathedral, would have wanted us to be worshippers and pilgrims not just tourists and travelers. However, I believe that he would have desired us to be pilgrims who are not seeking him but searching for the Lord. In looking for God, I believe that we are also seeking peace. I pray for calmness in my own mind and heart as well as for that of those around me knowing that they are also are in turmoil and unrest as often happens during travel. True peace does not mean complete stillness and tranquility but resting in the Lord and His sovereignty. For a few minutes, I found that peace in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral.

Afternoon tea with friends