Retreating...

Into sacred space

Retreating

After a super-stressful week, I am off to the Abbaye Saint-Jacut de la Mer on the north coast of Brittany for a writing retreat. This is the ideal location for settling back into the self and re-connecting with creative thought-lines. It is a place that opens its arms to new arrivals but doesn’t hug too hard. I find freedom there, but also the gentle holding of ancient rhythms: the sea which is at the end of the gardens, and the echo of past monastic life. Like all religious establishments in the region, the abbey has seen vicissitudes down the centuries from destruction at the hands of the Vikings to abolition with the French Revolution. And still the quiet hum of ordered work and tranquil spirits gently animates a peaceful natural environment.

The little needle of a peninsula ended by the rocky Îles des Ébihens was first settled by Saint Jacut, one of four siblings whose parents had migrated from Wales during the Dark Ages. (His brother, the illustrious Saint Guenolé, was to found the Abbaye de Landévennec on the Rade de Brest.) These early seekers were charged with evangelising a large, relatively empty land, but many preferred the devotion of isolation, a tendency common in the Celtic tradition. Once monasteries were built, however, settlements inevitably followed, both servicing and been sustained by the community. So many villages in western Brittany still bear the names of their saintly origins.

The abbey is doubly appropriate for my writing retreat as the book I am engaged on is about the Tro Breiz, a medieval pilgrimage around the seven cathedrals of the seven founding saints of Brittany, near contemporaries of Saint Jacut (5th-7th centuries). It inevitably concerns the arrival of these incomers from Great Britain, their reception and progression, their role in the formation of proto-Brittany, which was not to emerge as a recognisable state until the 9^th century. The time has come to pin down structure and themes out of a vast mass of material, and to try to find a satisfactory way of enmeshing historical research and personal experience on the very length trail (nearly 700kms).

In its time, Saint-Jacut-de-la-Mer has been forced to adapt to challenging circumstances beyond a purely religious function: a quarry for building stone after the Revolution, an educational facility for young girls under the ownership of the Sisters of Immaculate Conception from the late 19^th century, and a convalescent home for Belgian soldiers in WWII. The idea of providing holiday accommodation to raise revenue has been a long-term practice. Today the centre is used by those like me in need of quiet personal space, walkers on the coast path, groups and individuals attending an extensive cultural and spiritual programme. The atmosphere is more humanist than overtly religious, so even an old pagan like me can open like a flower in the warm hospitality of this unobtrusive, generous community. Beyond issues of faith, I know the spirit of the place will ensure my contentment and productivity.