I always thought retreats had to happen in silence. In a monastery. With stillness, books, and maybe the sound of a distant bell.

But this week, soaked to the bone on a rain-slicked mountain trail in Wicklow, I realized something: my real retreat begins when I move.

When I walk through mist and sheep-speckled hills. When a deer appears out of nowhere and follows me like an old friend. When my only distractions are waterfalls, wind, and the sound of my own footsteps.

It’s in those long, quiet hours that my mind finally clears. That’s how I finished outlining the last acts of my novel. That’s how I found the energy to rethink a new “geeky catechism” project. That’s how I remembered who I am.

I share all that—and a few unexpected encounters—in this episode, recorded mid-hike as the rain returned and the deer showed up again.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re not “doing retreats right,” this one’s for you.

You’ll hear about:

• The silent magic of Glendalough’s ruins and forests

• Why movement helps me write and pray better

• The curious deer that walked beside me (twice!)

• A behind-the-scenes look at my book’s final chapters

• And how old geeky sermons might become something new

Sometimes, the most sacred places aren’t behind monastery walls—they’re on muddy trails with wet socks and wild grace.