The Fragrance of Stillness

A Dialogue Between St. Isaac the Syrian and a Disciple on Holy Company, Solitude, and the Guarding of the Heart

“Nothing so cools the fire that the Holy Spirit breathes into a monk’s heart for the sanctification of his soul, as familiar intercourse, much speaking, and association, except it be with the initiates of God’s mysteries.”

— St. Isaac the Syrian, Homily 15

The brother said:

“Father, you often praise stillness, yet in this homily you also praise the company of holy men. Which should I seek? Solitude or companionship?”

St. Isaac said:

“Seek both, but not in the same way.

Seek the company of holy men so that you may learn to love solitude.

Seek solitude so that you may learn how precious holy men are.”

The brother said:

“I do not understand.”

The elder replied:

“A man who has never sat beside a fire does not know what warmth is. A man who has never met one who truly prays does not know what prayer is.

Many read books about God.

Few meet a man who has become transparent to God.

One hour in the presence of such a man may teach more than years of study.”

The brother asked:

“How does this happen?”

The elder said:

“Because grace is contagious.

When you meet a man whose heart has become quiet, something within you remembers its homeland.

You begin to feel ashamed of your distractions.

Not because he condemns you.

His peace condemns nothing.

It simply reveals another possibility.”

The brother said:

“Is this why you tell us to avoid the company of the careless?”

The elder answered:

“Yes.

Every companionship plants a seed.

One man awakens prayer.

Another awakens curiosity.

Another awakens judgment.

Another awakens lust.

Another awakens vanity.

The heart is always being formed by what it loves.”

The brother asked:

“Then should I withdraw from everyone?”

The elder smiled.

“No.

Only from those who make you forget God.

The problem is not that men speak.

The problem is that most speech leads the mind away from its center.

After an hour of conversation, ask yourself:

‘Do I desire God more or less?’

Your answer will reveal the quality of the encounter.”

The brother was silent for a while and then said:

“Father, I have noticed something strange.

When I spend time with prayerful people, I desire silence afterward.

When I spend time in crowds, I desire more crowds.

Why is this?”

The elder replied:

“Because every appetite feeds itself.

The man who eats salty food becomes thirsty.

The man who tastes stillness becomes hungry for stillness.

Holy men do not make noise inside your soul after they depart.

They leave behind a longing.

That longing is one of God’s greatest gifts.”

The brother said:

“Then why is it so difficult to preserve?”

The elder sighed.

“Because stillness is fragile at first.

A spark can become a flame.

Or it can be extinguished by a single gust of wind.

The beginner imagines that prayer is lost through great sins.

Often it is lost through trivial conversations.

A little curiosity.

A little distraction.

A little wandering.

A little unnecessary familiarity.

The soul leaks away in drops.”

The brother lowered his head.

“I have experienced this.

After a day alone with God, one conversation can scatter my thoughts.”

St. Isaac said:

“Then you have learned something valuable.

Do not resent this weakness.

Use it as knowledge.

A gardener protects young plants more carefully than old trees.

Protect the beginnings of grace.”

The brother asked:

“How do I protect them?”

The elder answered:

“Guard your eyes.

Guard your ears.

Guard your tongue.

Do not explain yourself unnecessarily.

Do not seek approval.

Do not run after news.

Do not become a collector of other people’s lives.

Return to your cell.

Return to your prayer.

Return to your own heart.”

The brother said:

“Sometimes I fear that such a life will make me indifferent to others.”

The elder laughed softly.

“No.

True stillness does not diminish love.

It purifies it.

Those who cannot be alone usually love others because they need them.

Those who have learned stillness begin to love others because they love God.

The first kind of love consumes.

The second gives life.”

The brother sat quietly.

Then he asked:

“Father, why do some men flee solitude while others cling to it as a treasure?”

The elder answered:

“Because solitude reveals what is hidden.

To the distracted man it appears empty.

To the prayerful man it is crowded with God.

The same desert terrifies one man and delights another.

The difference is not in the desert.

The difference is in the heart.”

The brother said:

“And what is the sign that stillness is becoming fruitful?”

The elder replied:

“When you no longer feel alone.

When silence becomes companionship.

When prayer becomes conversation.

When God ceases to be an idea and becomes a Presence.

Then the soul begins to understand why the saints guarded stillness as misers guard gold.”

The brother bowed and said:

“Pray for me, Father, that I may love stillness.”

The elder answered:

“Do not pray first to love stillness.

Pray to love Christ.

If you love Christ, you will soon love whatever allows you to hear His voice.

And then stillness will no longer feel like deprivation.

It will become your feast.”

And the brother departed in silence, carrying within him not merely the elder’s words, but the fragrance of the life from which they came.